Longslade stroll
- Jen Blaxall.
- Aug 7
- 2 min read
A stroll at Longslade yesterday bought utter joy to my heart!
Young families and joyful dogs were playing and having picnics on the grassland, but I wandered past the belly laughs and wagging tails, and beyond the ponies grazing and mutual grooming beneath the fluffy clouds and blue skies. I walked through the purple heather, alive with pollinators and butterflies gently flitting from bell to ling. At the top of the hill, I admired the patchwork of purple and green and watched a red kite's graceful flight. However, my destination was the trees. Hincheslea Wood is enchanting with its ancient trees, whose etchings tell tales of love, magic, and war.
This woodland is teeming with character, from the grand buttress oaks to the ancient, scarred beeches and fairy trees at every turn. I pause for a moment. Not a person is nearby, yet the woodland feels alive with souls. I imagined the tales these trees have witnessed over time, and a roe deer and roaming ponies drew closer, eager to hear the stories too. There's so much to observe in the perfect silence of nature, as memories and experiences leave their marks on certain trees. A buzzard flew through the trees, leaving a feather as a gift. I placed it with the wise, old beech tree that held the stories and scars, and then continued my walk.
Heading out of the ancient woodland, my need to tiptoe was left behind, as I was once again amongst the purple heather and gently waving bracken. Butterflies and dragonflies danced across the flora, and the scent of the nearby bog myrtle added to my joy. I could hear a reed warbler calling from the bog and that roe deer, once again, thinking it was going undetected as it foraged amongst the reeds. Cows chewed the cud and rested under a small grove of trees, and I could hear the laughter from children once more. As I got closer to the car park, I could see the children playing football, which was being tackled by an overexcited terrier. It made me raise a smile, as my joyful wander came to a close, but not before that buzzard gave a cry as it circled the sky. It was just a silhouette against the sun, but I thanked it for the gift and joining me on my walk.
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