There’s a forest near my house, and whilst it isn’t particularly unique, special or outstanding, it’s still one of my favourite places in the world.
Those that are willing to go far enough down the swallowing long stretch of terrain escape the crowds of dawdling Sunday strollers and relaxed dog walkers. Eventually, you’ll find yourself surrounded by space, silence and peace – and that’s why I like it, because it becomes so tranquil you can almost think out loud.
I love it best first thing in the morning – there’s no-one around, just you and the trees. Rows and rows of towering wooden limbs – they’ve been pushed back by the wind slightly so they almost look like they’re dancing, swaying to and fro. On particularly imaginative mornings, I like to think that I’m walking between giant guests at a forest ball frozen in time.
Maybe it’s the long stretch of path or the eternal horizon, but it’s great because it’s a walk for thinking. Not for just walking – it is a place to conjure dreams and plans for the day ahead.
I always find inspiration within it – which is odd because nothing changes. It’s the same scenery, the same footprints that I’m treading, the same paths that I could find blindfolded – but there’s always new ideas emerging from behind the timber.
I have always been a daydreamer – if I’m not focused on something I tend to drift. I start thinking and don’t stop. My dad told me that I go to “Sophie Land” once – which is quite true, but lately such head-bound scenarios have been coming to life – reality has been biting the creative fishing line that’s been thrown. I’d like to put it down to a weekly forest trek, but I know that magic comes from hard work more than a rabbit in a hat (or a Sussex patch of trees).
Have a lovely weekend,