A little calm and normality

Yesterday was the first time at the woods on my own since the passing of my wife recently. I needed to go to try get some calm and healing and there’s nowhere better for me than the woods. At first it felt a little alien but it’s not the woods, it’s me and my feelings which are alien. I decided I need to find some little piece of normality in my life again. The road ahead is a long and fairly bleak one right now but if I can introduce the odd day here and there that feels like things are normal, then eventually that feeling will start to grow. Somebody told me the idea of growing around grief. The grief never goes away but eventually you grow your new life around it which lessens the impact of it on you.

It was a cold morning but sun was filtering through the leafy canopy. I was intending doing a couple of jobs but also giving myself the luxury of just sitting, reflecting and taking in the beauty of it. I took my plastic garden chair from the shelter and looked for nice secluded spots and just sat for a while, then moved on to another. It paid off in unexpected ways. I spotted a coal tit fly down and land at the other side of a rotten birch stump. It was out of sight for a while then flew off into a tree. It came back and did the same again. I went to look at the stump and found a hole that it was using as a nest. It was very dark and I shone my phone torch and there, nestled together, were about five baby ones. They looked almost fully fledged with their black caps. Those tiny black eyes stared out at this alien world that they were about to be plunged into and I felt a certain resonance with them. Huddled together, safe and looked after by parents but soon to venture out and find their own way in life. The photo is blurred because the camera focus would not lock onto the dark inside but you can just make out the little birds inside.

I took my old fashioned scythe and cleared some paths that were overgrown. It is a much gentler and satisfying way than using the noisy, smelly brushcutter and quite therapeutic. It was a good day for bird spotting too. When I filled the feeders I sat for quite a while and watched. The usual blue and great tits came but also a jay and a great spotted woodpecker. I could hear blackcaps singing their beautiful liquid songs and I felt grateful to have such diversity of bird life in my woods, indicating a healthy and bountiful environment.

I spent some time peeling the bark off the larch logs I had cut a few weeks ago using a vintage drawknife I bought in France and imagined some old bodger using the same tool in a forest there many years ago. It felt good and satisfying. My neighbours arrived and we spent a lot of time just chatting about my situation. I think it helped and I can talk about it more easily without getting too emotional now. I guess it’s like learning anything new, practice enough and it gets easier. At the end of the day there, I felt a little of my old normal self thanks to the woods and my friends. I shall aim to go each weekend if possible for more natural healing.

A much needed visit to the woods

The ill person that I spoke about in the last post was my wife. She has since passed away and my life will be changed forever now. After 53 years of being together it leaves a hole so deep and wide. There is no pain like this one, no words to describe the terror I felt for a month and the hollowness and emptiness that follows. I find it almost impossible to think of anything else. Each day is a drudge to get through but I am still here and have to find a way to fill my life with something meaningful. I am so grateful to be the guardian of these woods and will find some healing here and will continue to visit on a regular basis as long as I am able.

Yesterday was the first time I felt anything other than grief. I came to the woods with my youngest daughter to get some nature therapy. How it has grown in just a month! Paths are becoming hard to negotiate and I will need to do some clearing soon. The woods are so lush and fresh now and it felt good to be back there. We fed the birds, lit a fire, made coffee and later cooked sausage and eggs to make sandwiches. My daughter is shaping up with her fire lighting skills. Without instruction, she set about gathering kindling. I showed her how to use a firesteel and flint and she soon had a flame going in the bird-nest bundle.

There were no jobs done, we simply enjoyed the beauty and peace to be found there and for a while I felt good, just being in the moment. I have a huge emotional mountain to climb over the coming months before I will start to feel anything like good on a day by day basis but the woods will help.

What does the future hold?

The sun was out and the woods are looking their very best right now. It’s my favourite time in the woods right now. Everything fresh and bursting with life. The leaves on the trees are still sparse enough to let lots of light in but just cloak the woods with bright, delicate green. The birds are plentiful and singing away. Yet it was a day that evoked a lot of sadness and questions about my future in the woods and other areas of my life. A sudden and devastating illness in the family hangs over me. My future visits to the woods will be less frequent, at least for the foreseeable future. Then of course we have the evil Russian president threatening WW3 and possible nuclear attacks. We can never know what the future will bring of course but we often feel that we do. We make plans and in our minds imagine us doing this and that nice thing. There are no guarantees in life and I have said many times that we have to make the most of it while life is good. In an instant our lives and future can turn bad and everything changes. Enough said let’s come back to the here and now and my day in the woods.

I needed to sort a few things out, logs to chop and stack, some pieces to bring home and hazel rods for possible craft projects. I wrote in my last blog about the larch trees my neighbour had kindly allowed me to take for a number of building ideas I had. I was keen to have a go at cleaving (splitting) some of them to use as smaller posts and timbers for a log shed and other structures. I’ve been told that larch can’t be split because there are too many side branches (knots) running through that tend to prevent splitting but I had to try it for myself. The technique is to drive a couple of steel wedges into one end across the centre line. It will start to open up, then you drive another wedge into the crack in each side which opens it further and you keep moving along the slowly lengthening crack with the wedges. It tears the fibres apart and eventually you get to the other end and the log will be split in two. You can then do the same thing with the two halves to make quarters. It was tough going but they did split and in relatively straight lines making some useful pieces. I tried it again on a couple more longer pieces and was pleased with the results. They are very ragged compared to some types of trees but I now know you can cleave larch.

I completed my list of jobs and took plenty of time out to walk around and absorb the incredible peace and beauty of this lovely place, helping to calm the storm that is raging in my life right now. As I walked, I spotted a shape high up in a tree that was clearly an owl. I have only seen one in the woods on a couple of occasions and never in daylight. Excitedly I crept as quietly as I could through the undergrowth to get as close as possible, taking photos with every few steps in case I disturbed it and it flew off. I wasn’t close enough to tell what it was. It looked smaller than a Tawny but bigger than a Little Owl. It appeared to be sleeping in the dappled sun and no sign of it taking off. When I zoomed in, it appeared fluffy and very light coloured. It’s a baby and I reckon only just fledged. I think a Tawny. What a thrill it it was and a very memorable visit. I hope with all my heart that the future will be better than it seems right now and I can continue to enjoy and share the woods with you for years to come. Take care and make the most of what you’ve got.