The last two days the rain came. I never used to like walking in the rain, for obvious reasons. But warming up at home in fluffy pyjamas and drinking hot chocolate made up for being soaked to the bone. I thought that was how I would feel walking on the common today and yesterday; but somehow it made the experience more magical.
Wednesday
On Wednesday, I went out between downpours, and I had the common all to myself. It was like stepping into a fairy-tale. The pale daylight trickled through the leaves, dappling and casting faint shadows across the ground. Birds (and squirrels) chatted above my head announcing my arrival (whether they were heralding it, or it was a warning I have no idea.) There was a gentle breeze which delicately detached leaves from branches high up above my head. They gracefully flitted down to the floor around me, landing in small puddles at my feet. It felt like I was stepping into Hundred Acre Wood. It was difficult to resist playing Pooh sticks on the small footbridge across the stream. Perhaps I will have to play next time.
As I walked along the bank of the stream my eyes were drawn to the peppering of purple flowers amongst green leaves. I believe they are called poor man’s orchids, but they may also be some kind of invading weed as they are everywhere. Whatever they are, their colour is entrancing. Purple has always been a personal favourite colour of mine, perhaps because it is associated with royalty and riches and it’s nice to have dreams of grandeur.
As I cross the bridge deeper into the woodland I again become entranced by the variety of colour. So often we imagine woods as just places of green leaves and brown trunks. But we forget the blackberries in their different stages of ripeness, the different species of fungi, the different bird species that hop along the ground, the different trunk colours of different tree species, and at the beginning of autumn, the breakdown of pigment in leaves. There’s something so magical about the cycle that trees go through every year that I always marvel at. Every year they shed their foliage and then renew. Perhaps there is some poetry there or some lesson we can take. But I am sure some great Romantic poet has already made the comparison, so I won’t dwell.
Further along the path I found some leaves on the ground which were slowly decaying. They had a skeletal quality which was odd. As if they were structures from a stained glass windows missing their colour. As I looked up at the tree I realised that all of it’s leaves were going through the same process. I am unsure whether it was diseased, but there was a strange beauty about the way the light was filtering through it’s leaves. I would say I shared a moment with it or felt some spiritual connection, but that would be a lie. It just reminded me how even flaws and imperfections can be beautiful. That perfection isn’t everything.
Emerging from the woods onto the heathland, I am always struck by the purple heath, and also the smell that rain brings. That powerful heady smell. Dragonflies and butterflies re-emerged after the showers. It was tranquil. Coming here during times of stress and anxiety always make me feel better, and it was no different yesterday. After a difficult nights sleep it made me forget about all my worries, and I slept better last night. Contemplating the wildlife around me always makes me feel better, even in miserable weather.
Today’s attempt
Today was a quite different experience. Accompanying me on my walk was Arthur, the golden retriever. His fondness for sniffing every plant and lying/sitting down when he sees another dog means that my walks are often slower and shorter. He also doesn’t like rain or loud noises because, even though he is a big dog, he is also a scaredy cat! When we reached the common today, we were greeted by an abundance of dogs which over excited him, followed by a massive clap of thunder and lightning, which made him run back the way we came. Sadly, we had to content ourselves with chasing squirrels and a ball around the green nearer home, and we got soaked in the process. Fingers crossed there won’t be any loud noises next time.
Fay Dragon 