The first tap on the shoulder reminder came from Kim who’d been inviting me for may be 2 years, until I finally made one of her full moon walks this spring summer. Why did it take so long and why does it continue to avoid? I re-traced our walk in day light with Sara a few days later, and then I vowed, this glorious wood is on my door step – why not investigate and explore?
The sandlings walk with John last year walked some way though it. But this year he and I had not walked at all, and I feel sad for this.
Unexpectedly I came to Dunwich, this glorious time of year, leaves still held, golden on silver birch, and some just left, carpeting copper gold coins on still green grass. It was to walk the dogs I came, and they and I both breathed out. Unbelievable, as both barry and Wally would say.
The Forestry Commission (now Forestry England) purchased the land from the Dunwich and Westleton estates during the 1920’s. Aforestation programme began in earnest after WW2 to develop a conifer plantation, which became Dunwich Forest. In 2006 Forestry England began work on re-wilding with a plan to replace conifers with broad-leafed trees and the forest is now a mix of broadleaved and coniferous woodland with some areas of more open heath.
Walk 1 Sunday
The first walk, I surrendered to the arrows, seeing that they guided me around a circle, some parts I recognised from the full moon walk – unsurprisingly as I’d parked in the same car park on left.
Walk 2
The second day, however was a complete novelty to me. A standing army of pines, gave way to re-wilding silver birch among bracken. Old boundary oaks along ditches.
Walk 3 Monday
I said to one I passed, I cannot believe I’ve never walked here before, it is so glorious. You’ll come again, they said. Parked to the right of the road for the first time, in large car park (no camping overnight) and walked to a stream, the Dunwich river, passing unexpectedly rhodedendrum.
Walk 3 Covid walk Tuesday
Walked from 5 ways but turned immediately right and walking parallel to the usual walk through marshes to the sea. Dusk fell and we got back just in time before dark. The walk of silver birches, and thinking and wondering about Covid. Michael has let for station road, to make him safe to see his family. I’d taken a paracetamol to lower the fever to talk the dogs. I felt free.
Walk 4 Wenhaston Wednesday
Once no doubt part of Dunwhich, also health, a short morning walk mixing known and unknown. I remember that low pollarded oak.
Walk Wednesday
Kept to right again parking up at first right park, now into unknown again. Came upon large area which had been felled now rewinding with birch. Obeying paulo chello maxim, I am now engaging a stranger willingly. After he commented on the dogs, I exclaimed the rewilding. Yes, he said, so quickly too, as they only harvested the large pines perhaps 5 years ago. I feel so happy, expressive and creative in my explorative thinking here, a release after so long in dead end streets. A gravel pit, deer proof fence, glorious line of beech.
Short while later I found one such stump now pocketed with holes, and food for fungi. A while further on I rocked up at the (no stay overnight) park, turned and found a circling back along deer fence and passed the quarry.
Walk Thursday – the Jigs saw pieces from 5 finguers
I wanted to find again the photograph I took of the silver birches and Brow, so in wet rain, waterproofs on early morning we set off from 5 fingers. Oh the glory of silver birches, a tree i’d never noted before. The pioneers, slim dancers with their delicate leaves now part falling part decorating. Those Biriosa in Russia, one of the first words I learnt. Symbol of purity. They lifted my spirit again this wet morning. (A flurry of text messages from Kally re shall we be in wet and windy wood or go to safe pear tree? I am a bit hard core, I said it is mild, let us try for resilience!) I found something near the photograph, black and white straight birch out of a ground of semi green bronze ferns, and a path of golden birch leaves. I looked closely at an old birch trunk, pink silver smooth skin with horizontal tag lines, erupting into fissures of vertical rough bark.
We came to a hide, which i recalled on Kim’s walk (silhouette in distance), well made in honor of Bernard Hicks, leader of Lowestoft members group. Who ever Bernard Hicks was, thank you Bernard.
This is a walk of jig saw pieces for after that I came to the bench I passed with Sara, then up a hill, to the open space, which I recall Sara feeling so sad about – the day after it had been clear felled. Such violence, she said. May be 2 or is it 3 years later, here it is, bursting with biriosa birch. I pulled 2-3 close to one another to plant on my land. A fallen pine, it’s limb digging into the earth, may be it will survive. I am following the trail, which i’m pretty sure is St Helena’s trail, well marked, and we come out to a well heeled track, lined with beach trees, on the left side within a soft mossy bank – may be 100 or so years old. A tree with leave I do not know. Before reaching the habitation of St Helena, we turned, and turned again by the 2 Nissan huts. My last photograph is of an avenue of scots pine on left and birch on right.
Kaliwood 