Late Summer at Woods Mill

We have a little secret. My youngest has found a quiet, rarely-visited corner of our local nature reserve, and she's been progressively building a den there whenever we visit. Maybe she was inspired by all those Nature Tots sessions we did there, pre-pandemic. Maybe it's a legacy of the Twitch books we read a couple of years ago. Maybe it's just natural.

But she's been hard at it:

While my youngest busied herself with repairing the damage since her last visit and developing the den, my eldest took herself off on a walk around the estate. Left to my own devices, but wanting to keep an eye on my youngest, I slipped into exploring the immediate area around the den. Nearly two decades ago, I did a course on photography as a mindfulness and spirituality practice at Lee Abbey. And that sprang to mind as I explored a few square metres with my camera.

There's some beauty to be found:

I have often slipped into my late Dad's old habit of Going For A Walk in nature. Which is great (although, I recently discovered that my wife was frustrated by the degree to which this was a stroll, rather than a walk…), but often doesn't leave room to really explore a location.

I'd forgotten quite how lovely it can be to just exist in a space for a while, to let your senses extend to take in the sounds, sights and smells of a space. It's August and, as I noted when we went to Pulborough, the birdsong is quieter than it was. But there's still enough to captivate you, if you take the time to listen.

This is the third time I've spend a while in this space, and I'm beginning to note the changes that happen. The rotten branches that have fallen, the decaying logs that have clearly been worked on by animals, the arrival, and departure, of fungi. This is a rhythm I only really get to experience in my garden, so starting to explore it elsewhere is just delightful:

Oh, and then there's touch. I was reminded, just that morning, by a podcast that sometimes getting your hands dirty has a positive biological effect on us. So, like my youngest, I hundred for sticks, and fragments of wood.

The time disappeared more quickly than I expected. Before I knew it, it was time to head back to the car park, where we'd arranged to meet my eldest. There was a little sadness as we left. There's only just over a week of the summer holiday left, and popping here with my youngest will get harder for a while.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll come and spend some time in our little den space as autumn arrives.