A wee woodland wander

On Friday, I finally set out to explore my nan's local forest. It's something I've wanted to do for a while now, an unexpected spell of hot weather having made my previous attempt unsuccessful. Not only were the high temperatures on that particular April afternoon far from pleasant, but I was also stressed and overly conscious of losing precious study time, what with my exams fast approaching.

Relieved of this worry, this time round I had the whole of the late afternoon to wander, care-free. I started along a winding path beginning just beyond the entrance gate, travelling deeper and deeper into the surrounding sea of deciduous giants. I delighted at the young ferns, a less common sight back in London, slowly stretching up to reach even the narrowest beam of light which managed slip through the canopy, and I couldn't help but smile when I spotted mushrooms, golden and delicate, emerging from the earth: a subtle sign of the season to come.

Marching onwards through a meadow which I would return to later, I followed a looping trail that carried me out to the edge of the woods and along a belt of firs, the trunks of which squirrels scrambled up. Among their curious grunts and chirps, and the scratching of claws against tough bark, sweet birdsong rang out from the treetops. At the point where my path came to an abrupt end at the bottom of a residential street I turned back, investigating some of the narrower, less-trodden tracks as I went.

Taking advantage of the meadow's potential to provide a picturesque pit-stop, I set off in search of a suitable spot among the wildflowers in which to spend the next half hour or so. It was there that I sat, gazing out across the Swanston Hills before averting my attention to my current read, fished from the bottom of my tattered Kew Gardens tote. I caught the attention of an elderly woman who passed by with her small dog and grandchild. "You look lovely sitting there", she said, "like a fairy". At that moment, her beloved pet rose up onto his hind legs in an attempt to get a better view of me, sending the young girl into fits of laughter.

One chapter of my book later, and I got up to begin making my way home. On route to the gate I happened across a tipi made entirely from fallen branches and leafy twigs, carefully woven together to form its sturdy outer wall. It was the handiwork of some unknown but quite clearly dedicated individual, and I couldn't resist having a peek inside. Of course, my little adventure would have been incomplete without a bit of dirt and so I'll willingly admit that, owing to my wandering mind, my right foot fell victim to an incredibly muddy patch of ground mere minutes before I reached the end of my little ramble.

I soon arrived back at the house. My walking boots remained outside so as not to litter the hall with remnants of the forest floor whilst I retreated indoors to an eagerly anticipated cup of tea, recharging for a Saturday that was to be spent exploring the city.