I’ve had a rather hectic weekend with visitors and a ‘fuss’ level that I’m not used to these days so, when everyone had gone, I decided a walk in the wood was the calmative I needed. The trouble was the day was already beginning to fade and, on top of that, it had started to drizzle. Undeterred I put my boots on and headed out; I’m glad I did.
At the top of the hill the view over to the Berwyn was impressive and I felt calmer already. Then I dropped into the canopy of the wood and it was much darker; a twilight sort of darkness but still light enough to see some distance. Although a lot of leaves have fallen there are still enough left on the oaks to make quite a contrast between the light level inside and outside the wood. The surprisingly dry leaves on the floor made it very difficult to walk quietly.
A woodcock flushed from its hide near the track and made me jump. In the fading light the large twisted unearthed root stumps of long-fallen trees take on quite eerie shapes and then the noises slowly start to change. I love that transformation period between day and night where the day noises give way to the sounds of the dark. The blackbirds start to scold the approaching darkness and the crows are calling for the kids to come home for tea. All of a sudden, the noise stops with perhaps the odd bird trying to have the last word. And then, just to seal the moment, the first drawn out call of the tawny owl almost daring the day-fauna to stay up – it’s magic!
Climbing back out of the wood I can still just see well enough to make out the unmistakable gait of a badger as it canters away from me across the field.
Hectic weekend, what hectic weekend?
At the top of the hill the view over to the Berwyn was impressive and I felt calmer already. Then I dropped into the canopy of the wood and it was much darker; a twilight sort of darkness but still light enough to see some distance. Although a lot of leaves have fallen there are still enough left on the oaks to make quite a contrast between the light level inside and outside the wood. The surprisingly dry leaves on the floor made it very difficult to walk quietly.
A woodcock flushed from its hide near the track and made me jump. In the fading light the large twisted unearthed root stumps of long-fallen trees take on quite eerie shapes and then the noises slowly start to change. I love that transformation period between day and night where the day noises give way to the sounds of the dark. The blackbirds start to scold the approaching darkness and the crows are calling for the kids to come home for tea. All of a sudden, the noise stops with perhaps the odd bird trying to have the last word. And then, just to seal the moment, the first drawn out call of the tawny owl almost daring the day-fauna to stay up – it’s magic!
Climbing back out of the wood I can still just see well enough to make out the unmistakable gait of a badger as it canters away from me across the field.
Hectic weekend, what hectic weekend?
