Camping in the woods in temperatures dropping to freezing point and the word comfort do not seem to fit well together. They seem like polar opposites. I’ll explain. The pandemic situation has robbed us of much – time with loved ones and hugs, fun experiences, adventure and confidence. Living in lockdown has denied us much these everyday experiences. Building fear and anxiety into our subconscious, to the point where many of us are finding even simple things – taking a walk or popping into the shops, have become somewhat uncomfortable and challenging. Basically our comfort zones have shrunk massively and combined with a sense of inertia from doing very little outside our homes, it has started to take it’s toll on our confidence to go out into the world and be at ease with anything that might involve more than sitting at home on our comfy sofa, watching tv, doing household jobs, eating and sleeping. It’s time to fight back and reclaim our confidence. The only way to do that is to push ourselves beyond what we have become used to, face out fears and challenges and stretch that comfort zone. It might be small things – sitting outside a cafe with coffee and a friend. Having a look around a few shops. We need to practice living again, rather than existing in survival mode.

How about sleeping under a thin nylon tent in the middle of a forest in close to freezing conditions? Whaaat? Well that’s what I planned to do. Yes it’s pushing the boundaries of comfort to the point of silliness but I have really missed my mini adventures. I did no camping last year, even when lockdown was lifted. I just couldn’t face the challenge of planning and organising it all. I had only done one overnighter the year before and that was almost two years ago. Last year I bought a new tent, one that should cope with the condensation in cold weather. I wanted to try camping in the lower temperatures we get in early Spring or Autumn, try out a new four season sleeping bag but I didn’t get the chance. If I didn’t try it now, the opportunity would be lost for six month. I was starting to question whether the whole idea of sleeping in the woods for me was still worth the hassle. It was time to face my fears and go for it. There were several unknowns to face on top of the general feelings of angst from the pandemic and the normal, primeval fear of sleeping in the wild, that is built into our ancestral subconscious. Yes comfort and wild camping are at odds but that is what bushcraft is all about. It is not about “roughing it” it’s about “smoothing it”. Learning to provide yourself with some comfort in a hostile environment and proving it to yourself that you can do it. With that comes confidence.

The day started well, the forecast was dry but cold. I spent half the morning clearing the area and setting up the tent and sleeping equipment. You need plenty of ground insulation between you and the earth. Ground upwards was a groundsheet to protect the built-in one from sharp objects, a picnic rug, inflatable mattress, sleeping bag. The tent has no frame or poles, it’s basically a fine mesh inner tent (to allow free flow of air to clear condensation) and a tarp sheet over the top to protect from wind and rain.

The woods are looking gorgeous right now, the floor carpeted with Wood Anemones and Bluebells and some of the trees starting to leaf up. I was starting to relax into it again. Did a few jobs, lit a fire and cooked my evening meal of my own recipe of veggie curry. More like a curry flavoured rissotto and using my cast iron dutch oven which I absolutely love, suspended on the beautiful steel tripod that my pal Simon helped me to forge. Having good kit is a joy to use.

A short evening walk around some of the rides. Then settle down in front of the fire with a couple of glasses of red wine, watching woodland tv (the only channel and no adverts!) The day slowly withdrew, the half moon rose, birds stopped calling and the woodland gave way to the darkness of night. I was alone. Will I be warm and comfortable enough, will I find any decent sleep, will I have nightmares like I’ve had before? I wasn’t too nervous though, I felt reasonably well prepared. Worst case scenario was to jump in the car and head home but that was the absolute last resort. I turned in early and settled into my sleeping back. See part two for what happened next………..

I absolutely love Spring when it really starts to kick in. A symbol of new growth when everything is fresh and bursting with life. I have loved it since I was a child. I didn’t know anything about nature or the tilting of the earth on it’s axis as it orbited the sun. I did notice that when the light of day got longer, the weather warmed up, plants started to grow and there was lot’s more birdsong. It meant playing out longer at night with my mates. New colours, smells and sounds that had been missing for months and bees and other insects were present again. It filled me with a quiet sense of excitement. My little world came more alive somehow and I knew there was lots more to come for the next few months. Even as a small child I took a keen interest in these things. Not in a way that I do now where I like to identify the species but in that innocent way that a child looks at life – to simply watch, observe and marvel.

When I visit my woods, I can regain that feeling. I put food out for the birds and just sit and watch their antics and enjoy the beauty of these tiny feathered creatures who have mastered the facility of flight. No less amazing are the trees and plants that withdraw their energies from the outside world when the days shorten and the temperatures drop, then re-emerge with new growth transforming the landscape. I spend time just walking slowly, standing, sitting, looking, listening, smelling. Taking it all in with that sense of wonder and joy. This time of year, I treasure as the best time.

Yesterday the weather was weird. I passed through a sleet storm then back out into sunshine. Mid morning came a short but intense fall of small round snow balls, like hail but softer and gentle. I had lot’s to do, collecting logs to take home, chopping some of the newly felled ones and repairing my composting toilet enclosure that had rotted and collapsed under the winter snow. Chopping logs is hard work, especially on your back. Chopping a single log into four or six pieces and stacking them involves bending and picking at least the same number of times. Multiply that action by the number of logs you chop in one session and you have a lot of bending to do. Still it’s very satisfying when you see the results.

As you know I am interested in bushcraft – the skills of utilising what nature provides to enable us to survive in the wild. Foraging and cooking wild plants is one of the main aspects and a favourite amongst bushcrafters is making teas with them. Nettle tea is a popular one. The plant is easy to identify properly (essential) and it has various health benefits. It’s supposed to help reduce inflammation and is a mild diuretic to flush out toxins. I have been meaning to try it for a few years but keep missing the opportunity. It is best when the nettles are young and tender, you pick just the tops then boil them up for a few minutes. I had no idea what they tasted of and I decided now is a good time to try it. I imagined it might be quite bitter. No it’s not. The aroma and flavour is very mild and vaguely reminds me of something but not any plant based drink I could think of. All I can say (and this is a bit weird) is it reminded me of the smell of freshly ironed cotton. The smell I remembered from childhood when Mum did her ironing before we used fabric conditioners. It was pleasant to drink and somewhat comforting. I’ll drink it again for sure.

The birdsong in the morning was amazing. I am also interested in making experimental music and one of the things I like to play with are field recordings. That is sounds that we hear around us that are not created specifically for listening to but sounds that occur either naturally (as in birdsong) or by machinery for example. I took my little recorder and plugged in my earphones to monitor the sounds. It worked like a super sensitive amplifier and the amount and volume of different bird calls was stunning. I could identify robin, wren, chiffchaff, song thrush, nuthatch, bluetit, great tit just for starters. It was an avian orchestra. Here’s a snippet. I couldn’t add just the sound file here so uploaded it to my music website, hence the odd and unrelated picture.

What a great day, hope you can catch even a small flavour of spring in the woods and am glad I can share it. Go out if you can and find some woodland and switch on your senses, this is the best time of year to do it.

It’s been an odd and at times stressful week. My car was in for service and repairs and it cost me an arm and a leg to sort it out. When I went to to it to drive to the woods yesterday, the battery (a new one) was completely flat. I must have left the internal light on or something. I had arranged to meet my pal at the woods to spend the day together and as he doesn’t use a mobile phone, I couldn’t cancel but fortunately I was able to borrow my wife’s car. When I arrived we had something of a drama to deal with and so the day got of to a rocky start. I’d tried to think of what I needed to take, am usually well prepared but the car saga threw me out of sync and I forgot to bring my boots and a few other things. We did a bit of work shifting the remaining felled logs. It was very cold but woodland comfort was soon under way. A mole had left a big pile of soil in my fireplace – of all the places to tunnel! We cleaned it out and soon had a nice fire going and a brew.

It was nice to have a visitor to share the day with – the first since lockdown. The help shifting logs was welcome but that was as much work as we did. We spent time chatting and discussing plans for repairing or replacing my rotting shelter. I need to give it a lot of thought before tackling it. It’s only lasted two years due to insects and rot damaging the roof timbers. The next one will need to be good for ten years at least.

The Wood Anemones are fabulous now and the first few bluebells are open. The next few weeks will see some amazing transformations as Spring gets under way. Not much else to report, hoping to camp out for a night before long.

My best friend yesterday. The woods were alive with small birds when I arrived. Singing and calling out looking for a mate or announcing their territory. I truly love this little bird, it hangs around my work and rest area. Comes to see me when I arrive, always exploring where I am working looking for tit-bits. There’s more to it than just taking advantage of a free meal though. Experts say they have learned to follow large mammals because they disturb the ground and reveal invertebrates. Why don’t other birds do that too? There’s something special about Robins. After shifting a load of heavy logs, I sat exhausted for a rest. It landed on a nearby branch and just sat with me for quarter of an hour, as if to keep me company. Not singing this time but just chatting quietly and resting with me. I wish I could speak “Robin”. Special occasions these.

It was to be another day of hard work cutting up the remaining felled trees and wheel-barrowing them away to stack. I’m conscious of time moving on now. Recent lockdown robbed me of valuable working time at the woods. The area is filling up with Wood Anemones and Bluebells and walking around shifting logs tramples them down, plus where the felled tree trunks are lying is preventing them from emerging. I have another day’s work to complete it, then I can leave it to do it’s own thing without disturbance. It was really hard work but there is pleasure in it. I feel more alive when lugging heavy pieces around somehow.

Much has changed in the week since my last visit and coincidentally we have just reached the Spring Equinox when the length of night and day is the same. It seems like the tap of life has been switched on in the woods too. It’s the start of good things to come in more ways than one. Last year at this time, we entered the first Covid lockdown and I missed out on much of the Spring loveliness at the woods. I didn’t do any camping either. As the second wave of Covid retreats and vaccines are rolling out at an amazing rate in this country, I feel like this year will be a much better one for enjoying my woods and being able to socialise again. It’s been a hard slog, it’s not over yet and probably will start peaking again later in the year, but for the meantime, let’s make the most of it. Camping is on my definite “To do” list this year.

Wood Anemones starting to flower. They will carpet my woods for a few weeks, taking advantage of the light before the canopy closes again. A few years ago I dug up a few small clumps of Wild Garlic and replanted them along the ride edge in the Northern compartment. This is where I am doing the felling. It’s an area of mainly sycamore, planted in the 1960s and needing thinning. Ground cover there is limited, mostly Bluebells and Anemones in Spring, then the ferns and of course brambles. So I am trying to increase diversity with a little bit of transplanting from further down the woods where there is lots of variety. The garlic is one of my successes and I now have some healthy, thriving clumps which are slowly spreading.

Not much more to tell so I’ll just leave you with another photo of my best woodland pal. Standing on my mini fireplace about a metre from where I sit.

This photo captures the title, life and death co-existing together and reminds us that all things are temporal but from death and decay springs new life and the cycle continues on and on.

I arrived early yesterday armed with chainsaw and PPE gear to start cutting up and moving the six or seven sycamore trees I felled before Christmas. They lay among the Bluebell and Wood Anemone shoots and I want to clear as much away as possible before they race ahead and cover the woodland floor. So it was going to a hard day’s graft but first I filled the bird feeders. As usual, a host of small, feathery creatures descended and eagerly tucked in. I sat and watched with a smile on my face for a while before cracking on with the jobs.

Cutting up the long tree trunks and shifting them is really hard work, back breaking but yet hugely satisfying. I’ve had a really painful arthritic toe for a few years now and over the last year it had become so painful, that it was making me limp and actually restricting how long I could walk for. The thought of not being able to get out and enjoy a decent walk or a good long day working in the woods was depressing me. Reluctantly I decided to talk to my GP about it, thinking that nothing much could be done but they gave me a steroid injection in the joint. Sometimes it works, sometimes not they told me. At first the results seemed disappointing but then after about two weeks, it suddenly improved immensely. I spent a lot of hours on my feet yesterday walking back and forth with a barrow load of heavy logs and apart from a few twinges, it was relatively pain free. I tell you this in case you are suffering something similar but like me, are reluctant to bother the NHS about it. Do it.

The pond I built over a year ago is looking pretty devoid of life right now. I always knew it wouldn’t do well due to the heavy overshadowing of trees but it is a valuable drinking and bathing place for birds and other animals. It’s still a bit early to know if frogs or toads will spawn in it here but I’m keeping fingers crossed. That’s about all I have this time, Spring is definitely here at the woods, Bluebells, Wood Anemone, Wild Garlic, Dog’s Mercury and all the usual early spring plants are coming out to play again.

Since we went into the third lockdown, I hadn’t visited the woods until yesterday. According to the government website, forestry is a protected industry, necessary for the supply of timber for fuel and building which means that as long as workers follow the guidelines for Covid protection, they can carry on. Why haven’t I been before now then? I would have loved to but stories of police stopping and fining people for travelling out of their areas has put me off. Would over enthusiastic PC Plod with his extra powers know what the guidance for foresters is? Nah. So here are my reasons for taking the slight risk of getting stopped and why I should go.

We have run out of logs at home for the wood-burner. Two months is a long time between visits for me to feel happy. I needed to check my property for damage. My mental health certainly needs a boost with a day in the woods and the risks of passing or receiving the virus are virtually nil when spending a day in the woods on my own. I think my readers will all agree that my reasoning was sound but for the sake of covering my back when making this public, I feel that this disclaimer was somewhat necessary. I could simply have not published this post but I know that some folks really like to hear about my woodland and I enjoy writing about it. So here goes.

It was a glorious, clear sunny day. The woodland looked reassuringly familiar yet in some ways not. Signs of Spring were not as evident as I had expected. Bluebell leaves still quite small and no sign yet of Wood Anenomies. The felled trees that had to be left on the ground are still easily accessible without trampling too much new growth. First job was to put some food out for the birds. One of my woodland neighbours, a local guy who walks the woods regularly, has kindly filled my feeders occasionally. The birds were soon down to take advantage – Blue, Great and Coal tits, Nuthatches, Robins and Dunnock all came down to feed and started the magic for me of being back in nature with the freedom of my own little piece of woodland.

Second job was to fill my trugs with logs to take home. A robin always watches over close by, ready to take some small invertebrates that I have uncovered when removing logs.

I said the woodland had a certain unfamiliarity about it. As I did my slow tour of the woods I discovered several areas of damage. My firepit was half full of soil as if someone had dropped a spadeful in it for spite. Other molehills nearby gave me the answer – how bizarre! My shelter has a huge hole in the roof and some of the supports have collapsed. They were starting to rot but the damage was as if somebody had deliberately pulled down on them rather than caused by winds. Several small rotten hazel trees also looked that way. The front wall of my composting toilet had collapsed. Had vandals been in? It didn’t add up, nothing else of my personal belongings had been disturbed. However it did leave me with a sinking feeling, not just at the thought of possible interlopers but at the work needed to repair the damage. It wasn’t until the evening when I contacted my neighbour, who told me he had some damage from the snow that the lightbulb went on. Of course, the weight of snow could be quite substantial, pushing down on the shelter and the rotten trees causing them to break.

I returned to my woodland cafe, lit the Kelly Kettle and made a nice filter coffee accompanied with a piece of my favourite fruit cake made by my wife. Sitting in the sun, watching and listening to the birds, a line at the end of Van Morrison’s Coney Island came to mind. “Wouldn’t it be great if it was like this all the time”?

I spent a large part of my day just walking around observing, sitting and being in the moment. Getting a good dose of my woodland. A pair of blue tits flitted together, the female shaking her wings and tail in a seductive, inviting manner for the male and investigating one of the nest boxes. In and out as they sussed a new home and taking ownership for their nesting activities. All is well in their world right now.

I checked the feral honey bees that live in the Little Owl box. There was no sign at my last visit but I figured if they were still alive and present, the sun would have brought them out. Yep, still there. Another little piece of much needed joy. I shifted a few newly felled logs onto my woodpile, it felt good to be doing real physical work again. What a fantastic day. I’ll leave you with a few more photos.

It’s almost three weeks since my last visit and I’m so frustrated that I can’t go during this latest lockdown. There are many winter-time jobs to do – clearing up of the trees I felled last time and I would have liked to have taken a few more down, fixing the owl box up I made in the summer, setting up my blacksmithing area. Not to mention just getting my dose of nature’s medicine. The news depresses me with talks of the lockdown possibly going into summer – whaaaaat?

Last year I missed out on quite a lot, the peak of spring arrived during the first lockdown which cheated me out of that particular joy and I didn’t get to camp out at all. So what does this year hold in store for woodland visits and what can I write about now? Well not much it seems, so I’ll just post a few photos from happier times and wish you the best for the year 2021. I know many people are suffering with anxiety and depression so my only advice is to get out into your local natural areas if you can and immerse yourself in nature. Take time to stop, look and listen. It’s surprising what you might find. On some of my recent walks around the river near my home, I have spotted kingfishers, an otter and a lady swimming in it when there was snow falling!

Yesterday’s visit was for working. This time of year I have to get busy with the sycamore thinning. There are still a lot to remove before I am satisfied. The solitary oak that I am trying to help needed a few more nearby sycamore felled in order to give it the light it needs to thrive. The first three trees went down text book style. The next three got hung up and needed pulling out which is hard work. So far this winter I have felled about ten. Sounds a lot but it is hardly noticeable and I’d like to do double that. I did a bit of clearing up but there’s still a lot to do to cut them into moveable sizes, stack then and clear the brash tops. It looks like a disaster site at the moment.

My neighbours arrived with one of their friends, who is more of an expert at tree felling, to help fell some particularly tricky trees. This one was close to the ride and in order to avoid the possibility of it hitting and damaging some other trees, he attached a winch to steer it. Here it is as it starts to fall.

I had just finished eating my lunch and started to load up some firewood logs to take home when unexpectedly, it started snowing. I love that quietness and peaceful feeling you get when it’s snowing around you. The woods took on a magical atmosphere and it was quite surreal to be there and working in the snow. It really did feel elemental and primitive. It was wet, cold and hard work but somehow it made me feel more alive – fantastic.

Sunday after Boxing Day and what could be nicer than taking your daughter to the woods to share the day and and practice a bit of bushcraft? She’s one of those practical girls that likes to get involved but hasn’t had many opportunities to visit in the past. It was going to be a special occasion for us both and turned out to be a lovely and memorable day. The weather was cold but fine. We put some bird food out and watched the little birds flocking in to feed, then onto the first exercise. Show her how to make a fire, gathering and processing materials then get an ember going from a flint and steel set. It only took a couple of strikes and she was away, blowing it into flame then building a fire for a brew.

We had a bit of a walkabout, then my surprise plan was to find a suitable straight but forked hazel rod to make a walking staff for her. I let her choose, then cut one and we practiced some simple carving on scraps. She can take it home and carve some designs on it later. It was soon time for lunch – veggie sausage and egg sarnies.

I collected some logs to take home and left her to have a wander and take some photos. These are all ones she took on her phone. I found her later staggering back to the car with a huge log she had found from my last visit’s felling session. She had no idea what she was going to do with it, she just liked it and wanted to take it home. We had a walk over to a neighbour’s plot to see his fantastic cabin and workshop and before we knew it, it was time to pack up again and head home. A nice relaxed and fun day out and a bit of dad and daughter bonding. What could be better? Here are a few more of her photos.

Last visit, I left you with this situation. A very large sycamore I felled landed smack bang on the middle of a large oak that I was trying to help. This part of my woods is a 50 year old sycamore plantation that needs thinning. The trees have grown very tall and lanky. They are planted closely in order to draw them up tall and straight to make good timber but the woods have been neglected and should have been thinned out years ago. Consequently there are lots of sickly looking trees, too thin or misshaped to ever make good timber. Some have forked (like this one) which creates a weakness which you will see further down this page. There are a few different species dotted about and this single oak has reached it’s potential for further growth because it is crowded out by the surrounding sycamore. By thinning trees around it, you create a “halo” of extra light which should encourage the oak to grow and spread its crown.

Yesterday’s visit was with the intention of getting that hung up tree down. I bought a secondhand winch shortly after buying the woods but have never used it but now it was time to test it out. The base of the tree embedded itself in the soft earth so no chance of pulling it outwards. My best bet was to winch it sideways and one technique is to wrap the strap around the trunk so that when you start pulling, it sorts of unwinds and rolls the tree sideways where it can then drop. Taking the winch wire through a pulley like this, allows you to operate it at 90 degrees to the tree, giving you a safer position and better view. Several attempts at that failed and I was starting to despair. Cutting the tree again seemed too dangerous. Using a winch gives you plenty of distance so was the preferred method.

One more variant to try – pulling it to the other side and by attaching the pulley to the tree, you can double the pulling power of the winch. It’s a very scary operation for a novice and my adrenaline was pumping. As I cranked the handle, applying more and more tension on the tree, the first small cracking sounds indicated some movement. Eventually the left hand limb freed itself and with a massive “crack” fell. But the right hand limb was still ensnared and so as you can see in the photo below, the weak spot where the trunk forks, caused it to split. This was quite dramatic to say the least, and one very good reason to be well away from it with the winch.

So now what? The tree is half down but in an even more dangerous state. Don’t even think of trying to cut it free with a chainsaw! The stresses in that cracked and leaning tree would be released like a wound up spring and totally unpredictable. I managed to get the rope high up around that remaining limb and pulled again. After much cracking and thrashing of branches it was down. Massive relief to my stressed nervous system. Now the fun part of cutting it into moveable logs can start.

The oak doesn’t look to have suffered much damage from the encounter and is now standing free again and has some headroom to expand into over the coming years and I can feel happier about the whole situation.