Whilst being locked down due to the pandemic, I recovered my passion of discovering the wild places near me. Across a stile and down a cobbled path where you have to look out for the tractor or else, you’re part of the brambles (!) you arrive at an idyllic, faerie, storybook wood. Next to a painted blue bridge is a small cutting that takes you into an enchanted forest of ancient trees, uprooting themselves from the grips of the earth, a bubbling river running below - the road of the forest, carving its way over the rocks and meandering round all the tree trunks and branches that have lost their grip from the bank above. The bank above the river is very steep and continues to erode away slowly, the land giving up to the elements below. On the opposite side of the track is an abundance of flora and fungi painting the forest floor into a 3D oil painting of colours and hues. The white spotted mushrooms vibrant against the mousy browns. The crunch of the leaves as they turn from green to a sunset orange. The cracks of the branches as they lay a new path over what was there before. The smell of nature surrounding with the sunlight peeking through the treetops. The faeries and enchanted entities perching under leaves and inside logs not wanting to be discovered. The birds singing marvellous melodies and ditties becoming a chorus over the trickling river.
Upon leaving the forest you arrive at an open field. A sense of freeness and escapism overcomes. Looking North is a tower that sits on top of a hill. Heather cascades down the sides creating a pastel lavender colour all over. A mist shrouds the uppermost part of the tower creating a sense of mystery around it and the moors behind. Like a thousand stories could be told of ghostly beings and dwelling spirits roaming free around the bricks and wrought-iron door. As the sun sets, a shadow of the hill looms down into the valley below, where I live and darkness slowly envelops over the treetops and chimney pots. This is when the bats come alive. I sit in my garden covered with a blanket and warm mug of tea watching them navigate around, hunting out their prey. The inky black sky cocooning them as the silently swoop through the air in a hauntingly beautiful way. Me watching them swooping and soaring above makes me feel relaxed and at peace.
The North of England has a plentiful number of sleepy towns and villages waiting to be uncovered through woodland walks and mountain climbs and an abundance of life will be unearthed. And when a virus closes most public spaces, it cannot take away the open and green spaces we desire most when we are trapped inside a dystopian style novel.
