Into the Woods

Over the last couple of weeks we have been out and about locally enjoying the arrival of spring, and there's no better place for this than woodland. I love to be in green places surrounded by trees and growing things. Woodlands are very much three-dimensional places, with interest all around: above in the tree canopy birds sing and squirrels climb; at eye height there is blossom, bark and new leaves; at ground level there is a carpet of plants, rotting wood, fungi and tiny creatures. Woodlands are places where you can lose yourself and still your thoughts.

Recently after work we walked to our local nature reserve. It's only little, but there's so much to see. I looked, listened and use all my senses: warbling birdsong trilled around us; the tiny white and pink stars of wood anenomes dotted the green of the floor; frothy white blackthorn blossom decorated the trees; a soft breeze touched my face and the pungent, appetising smell of wild garlic rose up from the ground and wafted around our noses. 

The wild garlic was yet to flower,

and wood anenomes covered the ground.

Many of them were a soft pink.

New leaves glowed in the light of the setting sun.

And as it set, bats came out and swooped over our heads, some getting very close indeed. Such a lovely evening.

Last weekend we went to a larger ancient woodland which is a short car drive from here. It was a sunny afternoon, and as the bluebells were at their peak there were families there enjoying their beauty on a Sunday afternoon.

There were celandines and wood anenomes too, amidst the green.

Streams and gullies babbled away,

and we climbed the side of a very pretty waterfall which cascades over the rocks below.

Bright green ferns pushed their way up through the leaf litter.

Overhead the sunlight shone through the leaves above, making patterns of light and shade.

Best of all, of course, were the bluebells. Such a heavenly shade of blue, and so many of them.

I stood and drank them all in, inhaling their delicate scent which hung in the air. 

Nothing can match the spectacle of them shimmering under the trees. They epitomise late spring, and I wait for them eagerly every year. It's always hard for me to keep walking when I come across a clearing of bluebells.

Other flowers were there too, like this pretty red campion,

more wood anenomes,

bright dandelions,

and delicate lady's smock, which I also know as milkmaids. I found out it's also called cuckoo-flower in some parts of Britain and is related to wallflowers, which I often suspected.

Thank you for coming with me on my ramble. 

Woodlands are indeed magical places  x

An October Birthday

This weekend it was my birthday, and we celebrated by starting the day with breakfast and presents in bed (thank you P and D). I felt very grateful for my lovely family, and friends too, who made me feel very special all day - I'm very lucky. My friend gave me this lovely heather and I put it with my pansies and some conkers to make an autumn display on the little table outside the kitchen door. I can't resist collecting conkers at this time of year, even though my children are grown up - I think I'll still be doing it when I'm an old lady!

I also received two lovely books. I am a bit of a bookworm, and always have something to read at bedtime, but these are more the kind of books you might pick up and put down. The first is 'A First Book of Nature' by Mark Hearld and Nicola Davies. Now this might seem an odd choice for someone of my age, but I chose it because it ticks so many boxes for me: I adore Mark Hearld's art (remember the harvest hare card I bought last month?), I love the seasons and I love poetry. I can read this book with my two lovely nephews (aged 7 and 5) when they visit, but mostly I can enjoy it myself. Children's books are often works of art in their own right, and I have several which I still enjoy.

The illustrations are gorgeous and the writing is beautiful - look ...

The second book is 'Letters of Note: Correspondence deserving of a Wider Audience' by Shaun Usher. This is a wonderful book full of letters written by the famous and the not-so-famous, and it is absolutely riveting, not to mention very moving and at times funny. I enjoy writing letters, and fear it may be a dying art with the arrival of the internet and mobile devices. Letters are like poems, little snapshots of a moment, and always a fascinating insight into the writer's character. When I was a child my elderly Uncle used to write letters to myself and my brother in which he related funny stories and drew little pictures in the margins. I always looked forward to receiving them.

As the weather was beautiful we went for a walk in Leigh Woods in the Avon Gorge in Bristol. We've often visited that part of Bristol but never the woods themselves and today was the perfect sort of day for an autumnal stroll. The woods are perched at the top of one side of the gorge, and on arrival we spotted this amazing veteran yew tree which seems to have had the parish wall built around it!

Next to it was a bench carved from a tree trunk into the shape of a crocodile.

The sun was out and it filtered gently through the beech, oak and chestnut leaves.

Underfoot the woodland floor was covered in crunchy beech husks and mast.

There were sweet chestnuts too, breaking out of their spiky cases.

And here and there a feather, reminding us that the woods were full of birds.

There were also fabulous bursts of colour in the form of berries ... bryony berries (one of my favourites),

  yew berries,

and orange holly berries.

The woodland is managed carefully to encourage a rich diversity of species, so fallen trees are left to rot down and provide habitats for numerous creatures. 

Soon we found ourselves high above the Avon Gorge and were able to look down over the cliffs. Can you see the tiny car on the road at the bottom, and the car park on top of the downs on the opposite side?

We could also see the river Avon as it flowed towards the sea.

Back into the woodland and I looked up through the still-green oak leaves above our heads.

Bunches of sycamore keys hung above me, tiny helicopters ready to fall.

There were some wonderful fungi as we walked - I will have to try to identify them.

Although it was a sunny afternoon, the woods were dark and sound was muffled by the leaves. We met many families and dog-walkers, but often found ourselves out of sight or sound of anyone. Occasionally we found ourselves in little pools of sunlight which were very welcome.

Soon our walk came to an end, and we were ready for a coffee.

So we headed to our next destination, Ashton Court, an old manor house with parkland nearby which has been bought by Bristol City Council. We sat outside at the cafe and enjoyed our hot drinks, surrounded by well-kept gardens.

There are also herds of deer, the stags looking magnificent with their enormous antlers.

As we left we admired the sweeping views across the city,

and came home via the Clifton Suspension Bridge. Here we are approaching it.

Almost on it ...

And driving across.

Here's the view over the side - it's dizzyingly high.

Once on the other side we stopped to take a photo, and marvelled at the height. What a feat of engineering!

We drove back through Clifton, with its grand Georgian houses.

They are very elegant, and rather continental-looking.

Some have some very quirky period details.

I made an apple and pear cake for tea, not as visually exciting as my usual iced birthday cake, but delicious, nevertheless.

I love having my birthday in October, and this was one to remember :)