What was to be done on this wet and miserable day? Why not head off to the woods? Hero, OH and myself went to visit Rambling Ron. Although we had heard tales of Ron’s few acres of woodland on the edge of the village, none of us had ever visited. Rumours of a newly dug pond heralded a self-invite. As arranged he was waiting in the road to direct us up the rough lane to the entrance of his land. “I didn’t think you were going to come” he said. “We are not fair weathers” we replied. We wandered along the grassy way, fern flanked, cautiously made our way down a slippery slope, stepping over mossy fallen trees to the virgin pond. It is fed by a spring that flows from a rocky outcrop higher in the wood. Native planting has begun around the margins, there is more planned. “Wildlife will come” we said, “It has already” he replied pointing out a deer print at the edge of the pond. If we have a hot summer Ron may well find some other wildlife in this large pond. Myself and Hero have already been planning our wild swimming forays.
Naturally we had packed provisions for our road trip. We stood at the head of the lane supping warm tea and coffee and scoffing stollen, all the while listening to tales of these woods. Promising to come again when the bluebells begin flowering, we headed home to warm up with home-made broccoli and stilton soup, buttered sourdough bread for dunking.
This pathway caught my eye and my imagination. Next time, hopefully a little more sure on my feet, I will find out what lies beyond the fallen tree arch.