The Ancient Woodland

I write a lot on this blog about the Lake District, Peak District and many other places, some far flung, that I’ve visited, but this time I thought I’d write about somewhere that’s right on my doorstep and which, during lockdown, became something of a godsend.

It’s a copse of ancient woodland, just over 20 acres in size, which has been there for at least 500 years. It takes about eight minutes for us to walk to, and marks the boundary between North Berkshire and South Oxfordshire. It’s bordered on three sides by houses, but the fourth side leads on and out into open, arable farmland, huge fields and lovely woodlands. It can lead to a fairly sizeable, rural walk if you wish.

In the 1800s it was part of a large, nearby estate where they grazed their black cattle and some of the original iron fencing from that time still exists. Up until the middle of the 1900s it was farmland. Hazel coppicing is now taking place, something I don’t remember seeing there before, to promote new growth and prolong the life of the trees. A large area has just been cleared because of Ash dieback, but is now full of buttercups.

Consisting of two vast fields, one used by local youth football teams on occasional Saturdays, the other is left wilder so that in spring and summer, the whole area is filled with wildflowers. Ancient oak and beech woods encircle the fields with huge, vast trunked, magnificent oaks a particular feature. Elsewhere, whip like hazel saplings have self seeded into mini woodlands of their own, interspersed with hawthorn, silver birch and blackthorn, making the area varied and interesting to walk in. The land is clay; in fact it’s the only patch of clay north of the River Thames, but this does lead to a great deal of mud in the winter months. It is also a nature reserve with a sculpture trail, and marks the beginning of the Chiltern Hills.

When we were kids, we tended to avoid the woods; they had an atmosphere; a little creepy, not that nice and the area had a bit of a ‘reputation’. Whether it was just parents exercising caution for a group of young teens not to stay out too late in case something happened (who knows, but probably), or us just thinking all woods were creepy, it was a still good place to walk our dogs and meet friends. As adults, we have taken our young dogs there to run in the big fields and socialise with other dogs, have ridden bikes and horses down its leafy lanes and have explored every inch of the woodlands, the edgelands and beyond. It’s fair to say we’ve walked there hundreds, if not thousands, of times.

In spring, the hawthorn hedgerow which lines one side of the main field is thick with beautiful May blossom, birds, insects and butterflies. The field is then carpeted in thousands of white daisies. There is a wild cherry which is a sight to see in full bloom, and on a warm summer evening scores of rabbits sit on the grassy rides, grooming each other and playing. Vast areas of the woodland are carpeted in bluebells and wood anemones, and birdsong is loud and beautiful.

In summer, the wildflowers are out in full force; common orchids, yellow rattle and common knapweed amongst many others, then the area is mown and made into hay bales, leaving a sweet, rich and fragrant smell in the air. A tiny pond near the entrance is surrounded by marsh marigolds and occupied by the occasional mallard.

In autumn, there is an abundance of blackberries, hazelnuts and sloes which we gather in earnest. We’ve also found crabapples and even an apple tree which must have been seeded by birds and which yielded a good sweet crop, collected as windfalls. A variety of mushrooms litter the floor and the colours of the oaks and beeches are beautiful.

In winter, there is an area where old Christmas Trees can be left to be chipped for mulch. Huge tangy smelling piles of chipped bark are free for anyone to take, which we have in the past, and by about February, all of it has disappeared. The woods are a lovely, quiet place to walk at this time of year, with drifts of snowdrops appearing after Christmas, but it does become very muddy with so much footfall.

In November last year, friends of the woodland put a Tree Trail up along a path which runs down the south side of the woodland, next to a Saxon bank and ditch we hadn’t noticed before as it was overgrown, but has now been cleared. Little signs were attached to a variety of trees, pointing out those of particular interest. The area had once been part of the aforementioned estate, so there are some trees I wouldn’t usually associate with woodlands, such as a large solitary Yew, but the signs pointed out, amongst Oak, Beech and Holly; Cedar, Elm, Ash, Wild Service, Hazel, Hornbeam and rarest of all, a Rocky Mountain White Pine, reputedly planted by none other than Thomas Jefferson in the 1700s when he visited the estate!

During lockdown, along one of the main paths, someone had pinned plastic bags containing a little knitted heart and a beautiful uplifting message inside, encouraging people to take one, which I thought was a wonderfully thoughtful idea and so charming. It really did cheer me up, and still does when I look at it.

We walked every day we were allowed to during lockdown, and then beyond as restrictions lifted but we were only allowed to walk close to home. It gave us peace, beauty, encounters with nature, time to think, time to clear heads and minds, daily exercise and a sense of purpose in difficult and changing times. We still walk there regularly when we don’t want to take the car out, and always see and find something new and interesting.

I really don’t know what we would have done without it. We are so grateful for it and and we love it.

On peace and tranquility

I’ve just read a fascinating book, Windswept by Annabel Abbs, in which the author follows routes taken by several well known women, when it really wasn’t common, usual or even safe for women to walk recreationally, never mind alone. They all had different reasons for walking, but the common thread seems to have been a search for either freedom or peace. This got me thinking about my walking and what I’m searching for.

Aside from the more obvious reasons such as health and fitness, exploration in a more intimate way, experiencing the seasons and the weather and all the accompanying sights, smells and sounds, it’s just something I really love doing and have done for decades. More esoterically, I find I’m seeking out peace and solitude as I get older and this thought occurred to me when a recent walk in beautiful bluebell woods filled with birdsong was marred by the whining, continuous shriek of a chainsaw tearing through the silence. I know people have valuable work that must be done, but we are assailed by so much noise every day and most of it I’m not sure we realise is there, so attuned have we become. An hour or two of peace is calming, restorative and grounding. An hour or two of walking in peace clears my head, stills my mind, restores the equilibrium. It’s become an important part of my day when I switch off the phone for an hour and wind down. A quick evening walk in the summer months after work gives me a wonderful sense of freedom after being cooped up inside, as well as siphoning off the stresses and strains of the day. Many an hour stuck in traffic has been borne with the anticipation of a walk in the woods or by the river.

As a youngster, I was very shy and introverted. As a teenager, I was never heavily into partying or drinking and preferred to be outdoors with Bro, friends, dogs or horses for company. During our decades of travelling the world, Bro and I journeyed to slightly off the beaten track, less populated places such as the Galapagos, Namibia, Tanzania, Borneo and Tibet which, twenty or so years ago, weren’t as popular as they have now become. I think our shyness perhaps led us to avoiding places with lots of people, and whether that was a conscious or subconscious choice, I’m not sure, but it certainly had a bearing on where we went, and still does to an extent. We like wild, empty places with big views and dramatic skies, plenty of wildlife and beautiful scenery.

In latter years on the fells and mountains of the Lake District, we loved loved the wide, open fells in less frequented areas, revelling in the views, the peace and the solitude. We also started setting off on our walks earlier and earlier, enjoying the cool, quiet of the dawn and delighting in the most beautiful sunrises from the summits. This was usually a conscious decision, but for practical and logistical reasons, such as finding a parking spot in the height of summer or not wanting to be caught in traffic, rather than a need to get away from everyone; we certainly enjoyed many, many conversations on the hill and in the pub afterwards with interesting, wonderfully friendly people, lots of whom became friends on social media.

All this, I suppose, crystallises my feelings that now peace, quiet and contentment and a certain amount of freedom (I have constraints and responsibilities like everyone else) are hugely important to me and this comes with a simpler life, a slower pace, a greater appreciation of the little things and simple pleasures. Being outdoors, surrounded by green, by birdsong, in fresh, clean air perhaps with a view, with company or alone; I feel I’ve become much more attuned to nature and the natural world around me and that brings me great inner peace.

Pinpricks of light in dark times

Who’d have thought we’d still be in lockdown albeit now it’s gradually beginning to ease? For us, a simple pleasure is that we can now visit local coffee shops as part of a walk which was something we really missed doing. I am still a furloughed worker, but I have been keeping busy and I had a think about those things personal to me that have given me simple pleasure during these dark times.

Exploring our home area

Exploring within 10 miles of home

the secret bluebell wood

I know this has been the topic of lots of posts and tweets, but it’s true. Walking dogs in our area over the past 20 years has meant we’ve done most of the immediate and middle ground around home, so we’ve stretched out a little further as we were allowed to, and walked for ten miles or so. We found some beautiful little places and took paths we’d never tried. A tiny bluebell wood in full bloom tucked away at the back of two fields in a little hollow that we had all to ourselves in May was the highlight.

Walking on the golf course

A privilege to be allowed to walk here

Our county golf course is only a ten minute walk from us, but obviously has been off limits to the general public ever since I’ve known it, except for one tiny stretch that we always hurried across in case we were hit by fast moving balls. They very kindly opened it up in April for about six weeks to local people and it was an absolute delight. Stunningly beautiful, quiet, filled with flowering trees and wild flowers, long valleys and some pretty views, it was a total pleasure especially early in the morning. I was quite happy wandering there alone or with my brother. with a full perimeter walk being about three and a half miles. We could also make the walks longer, knowing we could cut back across the course, instead of negotiating a long stretch on a narrow but busy road. I was genuinely upset when they closed it again for the golfers.

Birds and Butterflies

one of the jays living in our oak tree

stunning peacock butterfly

Aside from the gorgeous birdsong greeting me each morning with my window thrown wide open, we’ve spent more time watching the birds in the garden. We have several feeders and it’s lovely to see all sorts of birds, some of which have become quite tame. We had a lovely little Blue Tit family in our bird box we were lucky enough to see as they fledged and blundered about loudly in the trees for the first time. We had Jays nesting in our oak tree and a family of squirrels, three of which are still in the garden each day. We have a large number of Red Kites that float overhead and do occasionally swoop down into the garden if they think they spot something. Dunnocks, Long Tail Tits, Nuthatches, Goldfinches, a pair of ducks that came at the same time every day for three weeks, a party of really tame white pigeons, a gang of Jackdaws and many more and it’s been lovely. We also have a huge Buddleia bush which has been filled with butterflies and it’s so lovely to watch them feeding.

oOo

I realise many people have had terrible, grief stricken, stressful and worrying times or put themselves at risk to help others over the last months and my sympathies go out to them, their families and friends, but let’s hope there is light and better times at the end of the tunnel for us all. And soon.

Pastures New

So, lockdown continues apace, although after this weekend, there might be announcements of slight easing. Let’s hope and pray this is the beginning of the end of the worst of it.

As part of daily exercise, Bro and I have been getting out from home and it’s been really quite surprisingly good. Within about half a mile we can be in pastoral, rural farmland and not see a soul. It’s been stimulating to explore new paths, revisit areas we haven’t walked to for ages and get a little creative with where to go, so it doesn’t become stale. The weather has been utterly amazing too which has really helped.

Our county golf course also generously opened up to walkers and runners and, luckily for us, the clubhouse is a mere ten minute walk away from home. The golf course is absolutely stunning with beautiful trees, woodland, bluebells and some nifty hills to get the heart rate up and maintain some hill fitness.

I thought I’d share some phone photos of the local walks and new places discovered on the doorstep.

Local rural farmland

Beautiful in the warm sun

Early morning light on the golf course

A bluebell wood hidden away and found by chance. We had it all to ourselves!

Revisiting paths we hadn’t walked for a while

Walking on the golf course

The golf course - just beautiful

Stunning May blossom

Our local pond

I hope you all keep safe and well; thanks and gratitude go as always to front line and key workers, and let’s hope this wretched virus is slowly on the way out, so that we all can be too.

Simple Pleasures

As I get older, I find I like the simpler life.  I spent a huge part of my twenties, thirties and forties rushing around the globe trying to see and do as much as possible. I thought nothing of 12, 15, 24 hour flights on dodgy airlines, staying in all sorts of dubious accommodation and eating heaven knows what from street vendors. All that was exciting, amazing and wonderful and I loved every minute and, while I still like to travel, I don't have the same reckless abandon and itchy feet that I once had.

I like a bit of peace and quiet, things to be calmer and the pace a little slower. I find I get up and go to bed earlier, eat less but well, feel grumpy if I don't have fresh air and exercise every day and have way more fruit, veg and pulses than I ever did. On the flip side, I don't deal with stress so well, I worry more about silly things, obsess a bit over being comfortable and a warm sunny day now means good drying weather.  

Tastes in everything simplify and crystallise as you know and hone what you like; music, reading material, clothing, home decor, art, films, food, interests. Even friends. It's a good feeling.

But it's the simple pleasures that begin to pinpoint a day.

We try to inject a simple pleasure into something not so enjoyable and the biggest simple pleasure we have is stopping for a coffee wherever and whenever we can. Even if we've been to the supermarket, we balance that with a simple, pleasurable coffee afterwards. There are plenty of other things though; a recent trip to the dentist ended with me sitting in the garden to calm jangling nerves watching the birds squabbling on the bird table. A stressful day at work can be countered afterwards by a short walk to a lovely nearby wildflower meadow, a long motorway drive can be soothed by a hot bath, a glass of something fizzy can feel indulgent in a day spent wallowing in housework and many an upset has been quelled by taking the dog out and simply throwing a ball about.

It doesn't have to involve any money, any effort or anyone. Walking through a bluebell wood, seeing new fresh green leaves, smelling wild garlic, listening to birdsong (a skylark on a summer's day in the hills is my absolute favourite), watching the rain wrapped in a rug, reading by the fire in winter, lying in long grass in the summer, walking next to running water.

In a job years ago, we - five of us girls - had to work on Saturdays, so the boss left us money for our lunch as a treat. We always shared a fresh loaf, smoked salmon and cream cheese which we ate together, giggling, in the cramped little kitchen. It broke up the day and we really looked forward to it each week. Years and years ago when I was a pony mad young teen working weekends in the local riding stables - mucking out, grooming and cleaning tack - the simple pleasure was being allowed to ride the horses bareback down the lane to the field to turn them out at the end of the day.

On the way to work now, I cross a small bridge over a tiny river and the flowers lining the banks lift my spirits. I always stop and look for a few minutes. Simple.

after every shopping trip!

lifting the spirits on the way to work

Life throws so much at us; there's so much horror, fear, negativity, worry and cruelty in the world, that simple pleasures might not just be simple after all.