So, I've decided that this is my favourite walk. Sort of. It's my favourite walk that I can get to without having to drive. But it's one that I probably won't do much in the winter because it's not very well lit. I'll try not to do the same walk all the time because that will get a bit boring for you to read about, but I will do this walk when I can't think of anywhere else to go. It's become a sort of happy place in my mind, even though I'm not particularly trying to escape from anything these days. I can get to it via multiple routes (about three, I think, maybe four) and I like all of those routes equally, probably.
Today's route took me in the direction of the Hundred Acre Wood (that's what I've called the wood we explored the other day). To get there, we usually walk on the other side of the road because it's wider, but I wanted to walk past these flowers.
Here's the dodgy-looking path that leads to the wood. It's quite a squeeze for me to get between that big rock and the fence because I'm not little, at all. I guess this big rock is here to stop people on quad bikes from tearing up the place, but it's a bit sad for people in wheelchairs and people with prams.
This was only the second time I'd explored this little path and the woods beyond, but I knew the way now – I don't think it's possible to get lost in what is probably not even 100 acres. You go onto this estate for a couple of minutes ...
... where I bumped into Anthony from across the road. Anthony is my neighbour, and his wife is Tracy, but we never really speak to each other because that's just the type of street I live on. I certainly didn't take his photo because, well, why would I? Anyway, Anthony and I did chat for a minute today, in a socially distanced way, and we agreed that lockdown suits us because we're both recluses and having empty streets to walk in is very nice. So that was fun.
I left Anthony to carry on his walk with his very old beagle whose name I don't know and have never remembered to ask, and in a few minutes I was in the woods properly, grinning to myself again – you know how I like to grin to myself – because being under a canopy of trees is one of the best things in the world, ever. It really is. On a sunny day, with the sun doing that dappling thing that it does through the leaves, and with the birds having a grand old time, singing their heads off and darting about, catching flies, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
I still haven't learned many trees, but maybe this will help.
Because I didn't really want to be anywhere else today, there wasn't much in the way of exercise going on – this wood is so cute and small that I didn't really want to stride through it because I'd be at the other side in about five minutes and I'd have missed all the loveliness of it. So I took a stroll instead, through the Hundred Acre Wood, saying hello to the trees like a strange person, trying to spot the birds that were making the most incredible racket. Actually, you hardly ever see any birds in the woods, do you? They're very well hidden in there. I didn't see any, but there was no mistaking they were there.
See? It looks devoid of birdlife, does it not? It isn't.
What I noticed today, because Matthew wasn't with me, trying to make me do online quizzes while we walked, was that there are lots of paths going off in all directions in this wood. I'll explore some of those another day. I did want to get to the other side of the wood because this isn't actually my favourite bit. It sort of is, because it's beautiful, but it's not quite because it's not the happy place in my head that I mentioned.
No, the happy place in my head is here, where the sky is big and there are things growing. I don't mean just this particular field (where, if anything, the stuff that's growing here looks shorter than it did the other day, which is weird), but this area that's like a huge crossroads, because I can go several different ways depending on how far I feel like walking and what type of walk I want to do.
I can walk along Jack Sparrow Lane – that's what this is called now because this was where I listened to Pirates of the Caribbean and it will always be in my head when I walk here. (Also, today I saw a lady on a horse. First horse I've seen in nearly three months of walking.) If I want to, I can go up that little hill on the left to get to my bench on the new road, where I get the best view of Morecambe and the Lakes and Lancaster.
If I don't feel like sitting near the road, I can wander off over here, to the field that's now a pond, and beyond this to the rugby club and the cricket club. I don't even think this area that I now love very dearly is very pretty. It's just got some kind of secret charm that I've discovered. I don't know if anyone else has discovered it, but it's never very busy and no one seems to linger here like I do, so maybe I'm the only one. I don't think I'd like anyone else to find it as lovely as I do because then I might have to share it, and I don't want to. I'm absolutely certain that if I brought anyone else here they'd think I was a little bit mad for choosing this as my favourite place in these parts.
I also like to approach my favourite place from this side, but this was where I left it today. But approaching from this side is more than a bit delightful because you can see all of it from the top of this little rise – the two fields, the rows of old trees, the rows upon rows of new trees, the path up to my bench, the other path to the canal. I'd like to live here, but a house would spoil it.
Well, no one was making our tea, so it would have to be me again, and to avoid us eating at midnight I had to get home. Shame. We're being spoiled with some lovely warm evenings right now (sure, not compared to last week, but I'm not a big fan of anything over about twenty degrees) and when I go out for my walk I don't really want to go home again. When I don't want to go home, I walk past the last bit of greenery very slowly because it's the green that's the best bit about going for walks, I've decided. I wonder what I'll think of it all in the winter when the green's gone.
To string it out just a little bit longer, I sat here for a bit. My beautiful friend Catherine Draper used to live on this street. She's the one I used to walk to school with along the ugly blue train bridge and the quay. Hello, Catherine Draper!
Until tomorrow, summer children,
WQ
Comments
Post a Comment