Feb 2012: The woods are lovely, dark, and deep…

I went for a morning walk in the Bentley Priory Forest Commons. Its a lovely lovely place.

Parked the car. The parking lot is covered with snow.

The route around the forest. The total circumference of the walk is about 5 miles.

Looking left

Looking right, clear, nip across the road. Who am I kidding? The days of me nipping anywhere have long gone. I amble across. More like shamble across.

The snow is melting but still covers the path.

The ivy on the ground is also covered.

A soupcon of snow nestling between couple of creepers which have climbed up on the tree.

The forest is criss crossed with paths.

Peeking through the trees.

Some of the routes have these markers…

Some tree trunks on the ground, covered with snow.

The woods are lovely long and deep?

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of the easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

I saw a flash of a rabbit but it was gone much faster than I could aim the camera

Keep on walking.

A stream is still flowing in the cold. Meeting another fellow walker

A tiny stream….



A tree has fallen over in some storm.

A frozen pond at the base.

Another wee pond. With some weird orange stuff in there. Not going to find out either.

A beech bark piece in the snow.

Some areas are protected from the snow.

You see the strangest things in the forest. An electric kettle. What on earth is it doing here?

Keep on going.

What are these?

Somebody has dropped magazine stacks off the road down the bank. How weird. Do Psychologies magazine know that their magazines are being mistreated in this manner?

A tiny bridge across an even tinier stream.

Cross over and step gingerly over some buried tree trunks.

The tops of the trees are bare and tracing a delicate tracery against the grey sky.

Another small pond.

Keep on walking

Another London Walk marker

Branches bowed down with snow.

A bench for people who might be tired and want to sit and enjoy the silence of the woods.

Another bridge…

By golly, another bridge



A bridge across that string stream? you got to be kidding me.

And yet another one, this place is infested with bridges.

A snowy tunnel.

Got wood?

And another bridge, lol.

Some more people.

A field on the other side of the forest, separated by a barbed wire fence..

Another stream, still flowing in the cold.

I am reaching the end of the walk.

Just around this is the exit and then to the car park. I love going on these early morning walks in the sun, snow, rain, shine, clouds, something about the forests which just brings me alive. Love it.