false forest footsteps

On the peripherial of the meadow, edging toward the forest, undergrowth eiks out an existence, protected -- given sunlight be virtue of the meadow. Approaching this, with camera in hand, I'm asailed with mosquitos on a misson of blood, successful for many. I'm deafened a bit from the buzzing, the vile critters entering my ear, yet I hear a peculiar sound. The rustling I hear is right in front of me. I stand silent, looking.
I hear it then to me left, then to my right. It sounds 5 - 8 yards away (~ 10 meters). I can't smell the thing. It's a person, right? The person or persons aren't talking and they don't seem to be getting closer. I'm at a loss as to what's happening. I'm so wrapped up in it, I couldn't hear anything else -- not even the incessant mosquitoes. Are the trees moving ... no. Their trunks are righted and the wind isn't moving the branches. What then is the noise?

I see leaves move. There is an imaginary line of bent leaf, then bent leaf, bent leaf... something fell. I look again, another, odder path, but branches, limbs and leaves are struck. Something's dropping. I don't know ... acorns? No. They are buckeyes being picked apart, pieces being chiselled away by the tens of squirrels in the trees. Flakes strike leaves making false footsteps.

I know this, because I stood under a tree with a group of squirrels doing this, where the flakes rained down on me. The ground around the tree, becoming green and yellow from the inedible/untasty parts of the buckeyes, in favor of the nut and the meat of it's center. A forest isn't haunted -- only your mind.