The tree that crashed onto the path is now a border for the path.
Trees never die. On the forest floor they become a home for countless creatures, spiders, worms, fungi, and more. Slowly, slowly, slowly, the logs transform into a myriad of life forms.
A fog bank is just out of reach. It feathers the woods on the other side of the pasture. Here, a bright winter sun makes the dew sparkle, and encourages the chickens to stroll under the apple trees.