A WALK through the countryside at this time of year has always been a favourite of mine as it blends some of the most beautiful features of autumn with a last chance to get a glimpse of the remnants of summer wildlife.

This was just the case on a recent walk through Habberley Valley.

The weather was at its autumn's best with the sun beating down and feeling warm to the skin, but with the overall feeling of warmth being compromised by a brisk cool breeze.

Some of the trees had started to show the first signs of their autumn colour change with hues of yellowy green dappling throughout the woodland canopy.

When you walk past a clump of trees, particularly a stand of silver birch, the scene becomes much more dramatic.

Looking like showers of rather drab snowflakes you are covered in mini blizzards of twisting triangular leaves and peppered with thousands of tiny fried egg-shaped birch seeds.

Growing between the tree trunks are autumn fungi.

The most spectacular and awe-inspiring are the red and white fly agarics.

Wherever these toadstools appear they seem to transform the landscape into something we are more familiar seeing in children's fairy tale books.

The fly agaric is a large fungi, but not as large as the less spectacularly coloured parasol mushrooms which spread their umbrella-shaped caps out to a radius of a large dinner plate.

Moving in among the trees there are a wealth of other fungi varying from shocking red russula, creepy green death caps, and gruesome meaty looking beef stack fungi.

In clearings sheltered from the breeze you will feel the full effects of the sun's warmth. Taking the time to enjoy this, you soon discover you're not alone. Twisting and turning around your head are what could easily be mistaken as technicolor fairies but are in fact the last of this summer's dragonflies.

In this melee are some spectacular specimens, the most noticeable being the large and beautiful blue and green emperor dragonfly.

I really enjoyed this last chance to watch these magnificent creatures before the cold weather kills off this year's generation.

The dragonflies are solely entrusting their future generations to their offspring which will be spending the winter as ferocious underwater predators in many of our pools and lakes.