A winter walk in the New Forest.

Am I the only one who really enjoys a winter walk?

Turning up my senses the colours, shapes and textures draw me deep into the forest. It's my favourite time to stand under trees and admire them in their stripped back, resting state. The birds have nowhere to hide and the moss covered trunk invites me to touch. The warm browns and coppers from the grasses and bracken softens the landscape and edges my path where ponies forage and fallows snooze.

My walk starts to feel ancient as I turn into the broadleaf woodland. Knotty, gnarly and the energy of a thousand stories in their sprawling limbs and raised roots, they encourage me off my path to bathe under their branches.

Leaving the past behind I step back to my path in the here and now and watch redwings fly over as the sun persistently tries to push through the grey sky and when it finally did the winter sun warmed my face and my heart on my meander back to the car. Metres from the carpark something caught my eye from behind a timber stack when a muntjac wandered out across the path and into the woods the otherside disappearing in an instant and without a trace!



Have a great weekend folks 💜🌳🌲

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