Today a toad

This afternoon I came across a wlatsome looking toad sat on a half-submerged stone, its eyes bulging and throat throbbing as the mephitic vapours from the stagnant pond swirled around it. I sat for a while on the rotting trunk of a fallen oak, surrounded by the ghostly forms of leafless trees sending naked black branches into the dirty sky like captured soldiers holding up charred hands, numb with terror. The sound of stillness held the forest in a cold grip, and after a while I plodded on up the steep side of the valley, away from the river bed and into the sunshine where birds were singing.