Worrying

 

Worrying

Arthur, trying to make sense of it all.

Our middle daughter lives in South London, not far from Crystal Palace. Early each morning she goes for a run with her dog, Arthur. This morning, she discovered something disturbing in the woods. She took photographs, but did not investigate closely and would not allow Arthur too near, either.

Instead, she called the police, for what she had found looked worryingly like a body. 

 A police car and an ambulance arrived on the scene and after a short while the authorities determined that the polythene wrapped ‘body’ had probably been deposited as a Hallowe’en prank.

The police officer who was the first to investigate agreed that it looked very suspicious. It is a shame that one person’s idea of a joke results in money being wasted on public resources, but such things must be examined.

Not long ago, the various parts of a dismembered body were found near this location, so police are aware and alert at all times. This time, fortunately, it was just a poor joke in bad taste.

Walking in the woods

 

Walking in the woods

 Crow preparing to pick up treat from the water

Many of the pleasures of walking in the forest or the woods are the sounds. There are the birds. The raucous cranking of the crows accompanies many a dog walker, who follow in the expectation of receiving a treat. Wood larks spiral into the air, their song diminishing as they rise higher. Great tits and blue tits tseep at each other from branch to branch. 

Red kite, scavenger more than predator

Maybe a red kite will be spotted, its high eery whistle echoing across the sky. 

Mallards quack in alarm before taking off from the water.

The wind soughs through the tall trees, and rattles the dry grasses at the water’s edge.

The tin whistle man was very private and we never managed to take a photograph of him playing his whistle.

Years ago, we would occasionally come across the tin whistle man. We would hear his music before we saw him. He would stride along the rough paths, playing his tunes. We wondered why he came outdoors to play. Had his wife banished him from the house? Was he summoning up nymphs and sylvans? Did he simply enjoy playing his tin whistle in the open air, the notes free to escape into the wild?

We have not seen him for a few years now and suspect his spirit has moved on. We thought it always a privilege to see and hear him.

A short stagger in the woods

 

A short stagger in the woods

It has taken a very long time for my leg to recover from the wrench it had in 2023. Ligaments, tendons, whatever, need time to heal. Sometimes, it gives a terrific crack, which is a little alarming, mostly to the onlooker – onlistener?

Anyway, I was delighted to get out into the woods last week. The scents from the deep leaf mould and the green canopy to delight the eyes, the air so fresh I could drink it and the wonderful feeling of release all led to a sense of freedom and renewal.

I like trees. I like the way they embrace each other and the roots hold tightly to the earth, spreading to communicate with one another.

I like the old tree stumps, covered in moss, sustaining life as they rot and become one with the soil.

I like the odd excrescences on the tree trunks.

I like the squirrels scampering along the pathways, high overhead, or racing across the ground from one tree to the next, tails flicking.

I like the birds, singing in competition in a wonderful chorus and flying or hopping from one branch to another.

I like being out in the woods, come rain or shine, and I didn’t really stagger 😉