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  • Writer's pictureMarcus Bazley

Number 7 – Walks In The Woods

I think there are few more liberating and rejuvenating things that a walk through the woods. A ramble through the woods on a crisp late autumn or early winter’s day, with fallen leaves crunching underfoot, is one of life’s great pleasures.

There’s something romantic and timeless about this activity. You feel connected to the heroes and heroines of eighteenth and nineteenth century novels. You feel more connected to them than you do to the modern world in which you live (at least, if you’re fortunate enough to be out of earshot of roads, railways and small children).

I do feel lucky to live somewhere where woodland and countryside are in fairly easy reach. Much as I occasionally miss the hustle and bustle and energy of London, I’m generally much happier being out of the city and closer to fresh air, space and greenery. In fact, back in the days when we used to get trains all the time, I always used to breathe a little deeper and easier once the train got South of Woking and fields started to open out all around the railway line.

I’ve often had the fantasy of setting up home in a secluded rural idyl. A cottage, complete with rehearsal/writing/artist studio. A space to contemplate and create. A place where you could bring family, friends and collaborators together, surrounded by nature.

So, if you do have nature on your doorstep, get outside and go for a walk, whether it’s over hills and down dales, along coastline or through the woods.


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