Comment Roger Smith
With loftier aims off the cards, Roger Smith’s walks from his doorstep have led him to discover a magical place that he had overlooked for 20 years
IT TAKES US about five minutes to get to the wood from our house. A short walk along a quiet cul-de-sac, a flight of steps leading down and we are there. It’s almost another world.
The wood is actually a deep river valley with a lively stream at its heart, tumbling over rocks and small falls as it flashes along. From end to end the valley is about six kilometres. It is within a country park, but all the visitor facilities are at the end that is furthest away from our house.
So we tend to go in the other direction. Despite living in the same house for over 20 years, we are only now discovering the wonderful network of paths in the wood. Our focus has generally been on places much further away; this truly delightful place, which we have come to treasure in the present lockdown situation, was criminally ignored.
We are putting that to rights now. Granted the privilege of an hour’s exercise each day, we take it gladly. A short discussion (left or right?) decides our direction and off we go. The paths are generally excellent and the wood is surprisingly little used given the number of houses close by. In an hour’s walk our average, I would say, is half a dozen other folk, so maintaining social distance is not a problem.
Going to the same place on a regular basis like this brings a myriad of rewards. As I write this in late April, the amount of leaf cover is growing at an exponential rate. When we started about a month ago you could see the river quite easily from the top path (which is where we prefer to walk). Now the leaf cover is closing the view off, and within a couple of weeks the river will be something heard but rarely seen.
We have taken great pleasure in watching the beautiful woodland plants grow and bloom before our eyes. The gorgeous little white wood anemone is a star of the show; but there are many others including speedwell and primroses. In a short while the bluebells will be out, giving us something to look forward to.
We have harvested wild garlic, which grows in great profusion on the steep sides of the valley. Taken home, it has enhanced soups and stews and there is plenty more to be gathered when we feel like it. My wife is threatening to investigate the mushrooms but I am a little wary of this; I don’t trust myself to make the sort of judgements that would have come instinctively to earlier generations.
It is noticeable how quiet it is in the wood. With virtually no traffic noise, the birds have the arena to themselves and they are making the most of it! A family of buzzards have moved in, and a regular commotion means the resident rooks are objecting noisily.
We have been blessed with a run of incredibly gorgeous days with hardly a cloud in the sky. On such days it would be gruelling to be totally confined to barracks, and the wood is both a joy in itself and a much-appreciated safety valve. We both realise how very lucky we are to have this place so near, and we need little encouragement to pull on our boots, pick up the walking poles and set off down the steps into what has become both familiar
and yet magical at the same time.
I hope many TGO readers will be doing the same, perhaps discovering places nearby, as we have, which have been ignored in the past for what seemed more rewarding and perhaps loftier aims. Those do not concern us now. We are both classed as ‘vulnerable’, which makes our daily communion with nature all the more special. I can honestly say that it feels like a true benefit to my health, both physical and mental.
At some point the weather will turn and we shall see what the wood holds for us then. For now, it’s time to make our small daily pilgrimage again, from which we will return refreshed and ready to cope with the rest of the day. Wish me luck as
I, a total technodummy, am going to be grappling with Zoom to try to set up video calls with my daughters and grandchildren. That would be another blessing.