September’s mix of rain and sun have seen me seeking shelter in the forest even more than usual. Over the last couple of weeks, the bracken has turned rusty, crispy edges spreading red towards the stem. The floor is littered with burnt out pairs of pine needles and the cores of cones, expertly stripped by squirrel paws. The squirrels themselves are slow to move off the paths, preoccupied with nuts and seeds – much to Caper’s delight. I maintain she’ll never catch one, it’s all just about the thrill of the chase.
The dog might be thrill seeking in the forest but for me it’s an opportunity to wind down. I don’t have the time for full on forest bathing, but I try to at least pay attention to where I am. Today I focused on the sounds, comparing how the breeze interacts with different trees. The Scots pines bring the enveloping white noise, while the oaks have more of a classic rustle. My favourite though is the beech tree, a real whoosh of a sound, almost like the distant applause of a huge crowd. I’d love to learn to recognise more of the bird song in the forest, but I’m loathe to disturb my quality analogue time by whipping out my phone to record or check an app. I’ll take a book on my next visit.
I also returned to the forest to enjoy a Forest Tots session with my tot, making tie-dyed fabric with elderberries, playing in the mud kitchen and toasting a marshmallow. We made friends with lots of tiny dark beetles with a blue sheen, which I’ve identified as alder leaf beetles (Agelastica alni). Apparently they’re something of a North-West success story: after being declared extinct in the UK they somehow turned up again in Manchester in 2004 and have since spread across the country. Given how easily one hitched a ride on my jeans to our back garden, they seem to be expert travellers!
