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Writer's pictureJen Blaxall.

Nature opened her door

There is one time of year that nature opens a special door to me, and that day was today.

The wild and ancient woodland on my doorstep is somewhere very special, but certain paths are not passable during the wetter months (and we have had a lot of those!) But that is kind of special in itself, knowing that these months of stillness and hunkering down that the wildlife is safe away from forest users, but once this part of the forest has recharged and allowed the wildlife to brood and fledge, it dries out and opens its doors once more. But just to the few who know this woodland and it's far from obvious paths.

Today was the day I trod the woodlands green paths between mires and streams, winding through oak and beech, once more after months of waiting for the forest to offer me it's beauty again.

This woodland tells a thousand stories of millions of lives who have waited in anticipation for the drier warmer days over the centuries, with its tree etchings of Marion marks and kings marks.

The stoic oak trees and the wise beech embrace my path as I say hello to all my old friends who are still thriving in this woodland, with their bilberry carpets and cotton flower heaths. The chicken of the woods embellish the oak, and foxgloves shimmer their bells beneath the trees.

Mares keep their foals safe in the wilds of these paths, and they have left their etchings too with fresh teeth marks on trees, suggesting they were supported by these quiet paths and ancient trees during the winter months.

Chatter from fledglings were all around, and as I was looking up, to try and spot the juvenile excitement, a roe deer bounced out of the bracken and darted into the woods.

It's good to be back in this woodland frozen in time, to enjoy its beauty in the short time Mother Nature allows.

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