As a born and bred city girl, woods had never really been my thing. Up to a few years ago my brief experience with them largely consisted of Duke of Edinburgh treks and being lost, wet and hungry. My place of comfort was the water, I lived it, breathed it and for a large part of my life was never far from it. Now though, although I will always be a water babe, I love my woods and the many things it unstintingly gives me.

Our woods aren’t ancient, so there are no stories or folklore to give them a sense of grandeur, mysticism or awe. Nor are they particularly dense, crisscrossed as they are with the well-trodden paths used by ramblers, dog walkers and joggers alike. In fact, calling them a wood is likely quite generous but for a city girl, the first time I walked through them, I was amazed and felt transported to somewhere else altogether. Everything quietened and took on a softer hue, your pace automatically slowed, your body relaxed and your mood lightened in response. This unplanned first visit, was a kind hand of fate, as it caused me to be more relaxed and substantially less apprehensive of buying a house in a location that I had never heard about, miles from anyone I knew but which i subsequently love and would be sad to leave.

Now, as can only be expected, the woods are like a best friend, always there and always ready to be what I need them to be. Calm and peaceful for the days when I need an escape and a place to think, adventurous and fun-loving when it’s time to go Gruffalo and Stick-man hunting, challenging and motivating as I run through them. It’s a place that helps ground you to your life and makes you grateful for what you have.

Unfortunately, like Mark, I have been suffering from a hideous cold this week and so I haven’t been able to complete the challenge properly but even though I may not have got the benefits of this week, I know I can get them next week and the week after and for as long as I will be living here and that makes me happy.

Vicki