Wednesday 10 November 2010

Burnham's Burnished Beeches!

Although now no longer in Berkshire, Burnham Beeches is still the place to be in autumn if you find yourself anywhere near to the huge sprawl of London.



With just a toe in the Home Counties, and barely a breath in the countryside, Burnham Beeches manages to pack in a great feeling of forested expanse and fresh green air. Even the noise of Heathrow Airport, less than 10 miles away, is lost amongst the ancient boughs of this beautiful wood.



Unfortunately the entire population of Berkshire, Buckinghamshire and Greater London decided that a Sunday stroll round Burnham Beeches would be just the ticket before rejoining the rat race on Monday. Hey ho.

Thankfully the vast majority of the stockbrokers, pawnbrokers, Henry's and Chelsey's decided that anything further than a mile from the Range Rover would probably require oxygen and a sherpa, and so I found that having passed through the invisible boundary I wandered back into my own world again. Phew!



I don't deal well with crowds, which is why I never go shopping, don't do nightclubs and would never enter a pub with the words 'Satellite TV' or 'Happy Hour Cocktails' or anything else outside! If there's not a whiff of real ale or the sound of ancient and mud-encrusted boots on the tiled floor, I'm not really interested!!

Anyway, having left the crowds behind I found that I had the paths and drives pretty much to myself. A few intrepid dog walkers would venture deep into the woods, but apart from a nod and a "lovely day innit" I was largely left to my own thoughts.

I haven't been to Burnham Beeches since knee-high to a chihuahua, but it's every bit as beautiful and wonderful as I remember. Even better actually, as on this visit I found the old homestead; a moated medieval clearing that had been home to foresters since a very, very, very long time ago!



It tickled me that I was standing where a woman would have stood in the middle ages, looking at the same scene (sort of) and shooing away pigs from the wooden door of her wattle and daub house!

There were several ancient tree stumps across the homestead and I'd love to think that some of these had been saplings when she stood at her door. Maybe her pigs had been responsible for spreading a few acorns about and starting the very trees that I could now see as decaying timber.



The cycle of life was really evident here though, as fungi and new tree shoots jockeyed for space amongst the debris. My reverie was eventually disturbed by a hyperactive Spaniel crashing about the bracken, but the tranquility that I found beneath Burnham's Beeches couldn't be so easily destroyed. A stone's throw from London, but a world away in heart.

Rebecca, x

www.rtphotographics.co.uk
rebecca@rtphotographics.co.uk

Windsor's Very Great Park!

It's been many years since I last strolled around Windsor, but now I'm back home in the Home Counties it was only a question of time before I wandered back across some of my old stomping grounds!



I've actually been to Windsor twice now in the last couple of months, and I have to say that I found it almost exactly the same as it was when last I set foot in the Queen's front garden! There are a few changes;



chirpy green parakeets chattering about in the ancient oaks of the Great Park, and a 'new' statue of the Queen on horseback... not new to the Park, indeed it's been there for well over 10 years now, but it's new to me.



There is also a mill stone from the Peak District for some reason that now escapes me... there was a story attached to it and it was a rather nice one too as I remember, but unfortunately I had about 20 minutes to get back to the car before the gates were locked and so I didn't hang around for long... just long enough to take in the fact that there was a story attached to the mill stone!

The car park was a fair old distance from where I'd found myself wandering aimlessly and absent-mindedly about the Park, and it only occurred to me when it started to get dark that the gates were locked at dusk.



Precisely when dusk officially is, who knows?

Did I have 20 minutes, or 30, or only 15? Could I have argued the point with the Park Ranger as to interpretation of dusk, or did he have accurate daily charts from the Meteorological Office with precise timing of dusk?

Not being the confrontational type, I hotfooted it back to the car park, obviously getting lost on the way and adding at least another mile to the walk resulting in it being decidely deeply dusky when I did eventually find it! Thankfully there were no Park Rangers in sight and I managed to escape from the car park before the man or woman with the keys turned up!!

I did have a very pleasant amble round the Great Park, however, and managed to find my way up to Snow Hill and the Copper Horse.



The last time I was there was in 1977 (I think), when the bonfire was lit here that started the chain of beacons across the British Isles to celebrate the Queen's Silver Jubilee. Not that we went that night, I'm not sure riff-raff were allowed in, but we did go the next day and rummage about in the remains of the great pyre to see if we could find any souvenirs that may have been left by the Royals... perhaps a burned stub of a match or something. But no, we didn't find anything!

I do remember being totally awestruck by the immense size of the statue though, and the beautiful view straight up the Long Drive to the Castle, about two and a half miles away! The view was just as captivating as it was back then. It may be touristy and a bit cheesy, but I love cheese (mmmm, Barkham Blue Cheese, if you see it, try it!!!) and I was being a tourist for the day, so why not enjoy it?!!



The Great Park is fairly manicured, although it's ancient and noble heritage is still very much evident. It may not be wild, but it is still beautiful and I can still spend a huge amount of time just bimbling about here... until dusk!

Rebecca, x

www.rtphotographics.co.uk
rebecca@rtphotographics.co.uk