The soothing silence of nature

DANIEL HALL takes a trip around a favourite Northumberland beauty spot

THERE aren’t a lot of places that are truly quiet. I don’t mean quiet in the sense that there’s no noise, but where you can notice and pay attention to your thoughts.

Most of the sounds at Bolam Lake are natural: birds tweeting, trees rustling - OK, occasionally you hear an engine go past, but at least you can’t see the cars. Even the swans here are mute.

The lake, near Belsay, is around half an hour by car from Newcastle. I grew up coming to Bolam and have brought friends and dates here, and found solace when needing time alone too – it helps that it’s one of the easiest and most accessible places to embrace nature in Northumberland, so long as you have a car.

Though the lake is undeniably pretty, if you want a challenging hike and spectacular views, it’s not the place for you. You can walk around the lake in 15 minutes without any stops. However, the beauty of coming here is there are so many spots to take a moment and appreciate what’s around you. Here’s what I noticed from five different places in Bolam Lake Country Park.

The bench by the swans

The quiet is shattered by the swans. Four of them take off from the water and it’s almost violent.

The beating of their wings whirs long after they’re out of sight. These swans aren’t like the ones in city parks. They’re either showing off for the few people who are here or they don’t realise anyone’s watching them – they’re really playful. One threatens to take off, beating its wings majestically, before deciding it’s too much effort. Another thrashes around as though it’s trying to throw something off from under the water. The sun is trying to force its way through the clouds but rather than being warming, it’s just blinding.

The bench by the pier

I have some housekeeping to do before I enjoy the second bench. Someone has left a poo bag and while there’s no bin in sight, that’s not on.

There aren’t any swans here. A quick check of the board tells me I could see otters and kingfishers. But all I can see at that moment is a

goose and a couple of ducks much further back on the lake.

The ripple of the water is stopped by an invisible barrier before it reaches the pier, the lake is as still as a photograph. I’m glad there’s noone around to question why I have a bag of dog poo but no dog...

Next to the bird hide

The bird hide is always locked. Last time, I tried to shelter from the wind in here. I’m not sure it’ll ever open as the window on the side is both smashed and boarded up. I sit down beside it instead. The plants shooting up from the mud could be tiny asparagus or even tinier skyscrapers.

Two swans have made their nests. One is working on its feathers while the other noisily carries out home improvements. A moorhen paddles into the reeds but it’s leaving the swans well alone. I look back and see one has tucked its head under its wing to sleep and I take that as my cue to move on.

The living room

It seems odd to have a living room in a country park, but this spot near the Low House Wood Car Park is set out exactly like a sofa and two armchairs. It has one of the best views of the lake, and the island which sits in the middle is the most vibrant green I’ve noticed.

The reflections in the water seem brighter too. A bird rustles the dead leaves to my left.

I’m almost back at the car park and I can see the first bench, though the swans have moved on. It’s the coldest spot so far and I can feel the chill of the wind on my face; I can hear it too.

As it’s close to the car park, I hear people for the first time. Their chatter sounds happy and there’s laughter as they meet each other (and presumably their dogs, because there’s barking too).

In the forest

In Japan, there’s a practice called Shinrin-Yoku, which translates as forest bathing and involves immersing yourself in nature and making the most of its therapeutic benefits. So the final spot is away from the lake and in the woodland, which you can get to on one of the paths that leads out of the Boathouse Wood Car Park.

Benches are harder to come by in this part. There are plenty of bird boxes and cairns of logs. On reaching a bench, I turn away from the lake. A pile of branches at my feet are turning brown and I can’t tell if they’ve been cut down or felled by one of the storms in the last few months.

There’s not so much to see here so I close my eyes and listen to what’s around, and again it’s mostly birds. Though much further from the lake, a swan is somehow the loudest.