The green tunnel viewed from the top of the lane to Forston Grange looked enticing. The sun dappled through the trees and undergrowth of a woodland strip to the left of the path. White petals of elder flowers rained down like confetti in the breeze. The right side of the lane afforded glimpses of open farmland between and over the straggly hedgerow, first a newly ploughed ground with narrow lines of germinating seeds; then an expanse of tall green wheat. I haven’t walked this part on the east side of the village for a long time but I am glad I have rediscovered it.
The tunnel takes me back to reading books set in faraway places, when I was young and lived in a very plain landscape of scrubby fields.
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I think such places appeal to the innate explorer in all of us.
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💚 Magical: a fairy wood. 🧚🏻♀️🧚🏻🧚🏻♂️
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Yes, so many landscapes I had only read about in my young days, in books, because there was of course no internet and not that many things on TV or photos in books, I had to imagine them, and this photo looks just like some of my imaginings. Felt as if I knew the place!
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Thank you. It is certainly a magical feeling to look at places like this and to step inside them.
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I was also inspired by books to appreciate the natural world, and my Father was a “country boy” who introduced us children to rural walks.
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