Walking Freely

Walking Freely.

There is often a choice that needs to be taken. Whether we choose to walk or drive is just one of those choices. Which road or path to take is another.

Road, pavement or footpath?

There is a well known poem by Robert Frost, written in 1916, it ends with this revelation.  I haven’t studied this poem, so I don’t know if it has deeper significant meanings, it may well do as it was written in the middle of the First World War, but I like its simplicity and his understanding of choice.

‘Two roads diverged in wood, and I- I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.’ Robert Frost

 

Two paths diverging, Sharsted Court. Newnham, Kent.

Walking frees you up. I can remember, whilst learning to drive many years ago that I found I had difficultly in navigating my familiar surroundings. I had to add another layer to my mental map of the place that I knew. It wasn’t just the increased speed of travel that threw me; it was a combination of things.

There were one way streets, dual carriageways and tricky spots, such as steep hills that I would try to avoid, in case I had to do a hill-start.

An upended old boundary stone, with beautiful hand-carved letter.

Walking around my local area was far freer. I could walk where I liked. I used alleyways a lot to cut through between roads, sneaking a peek into other people’s lives via their gardens. I walked over pedestrian bridges, noticing the contrast of the speeding traffic below and my more leisurely and slower gait.

Our shadows are evidence of being out in nature.

When I chose to drive I would find myself unable to observe as much as I was used to. I missed finer details of seasonal change and the heightened awareness that comes from being outside and being able to experience your surroundings with all senses.

The Spell of the Sensuous

This is the title of one of the most insightful books that I dipped into whilst studying for my Masters. I say dipped into, as I will admit I haven’t read it (yet) cover to cover, but like many other wonderful books it is so full of teachings that these momentary immersions can give powerful insights. It was written by David Abram in 1996 and explores the connection between the landscape and the human, ‘suggesting language as one of the factors responsible for humanity’s sensorial disassociation from nature.’

Walking through the seasons.

When I think back to the earlier mentioned days of driving, I think it was a disassociation from the actual experience of being in the environment, in nature that I missed when navigating familiar routes.

 

Walking in the woods, in Springtime.

Being contained within a car and moving at speed stopped me being aware of the actual place I was traveling through. I was in my own ‘bubble’, a man-made environment that I inhabited, along with specific possessions that I needed for the journey, such as music tapes, sunglasses and maps.

Had I been walking, I would have employed all senses; the pace of the walk would have allowed me to hear sounds such as traffic, birdsong and voices. I would even have been aware of subtle scents in the air. Walking allows us to inhabit the space fully.

A Woodland Walk

As I walked out in to the bright sunshine, last Thursday with my sister in her local woodland, we went along a path that we often use.

Taking a familiar path...

Snowdrops were looking small and precious amongst the brown fallen autumn leaves on the edge of the wood.

 

Snowdrops.

Bluebell leaves were starting to poke through deeper leaf litter further along the path and the emerging spiky shoots of Wild Garlic edged the muddy path.

Bluebell shoots poking through the fallen leaves.

We could smell fox, leaf mould and pine in some areas. The wind blew coldly on us as we approached the edge of the estate.

Looking from the woods toward Doddington Estate.

Here we stood and looked back into the wood and saw the sunlight bright and raw, shine onto tree bark, woodland floor and fallen trees.

Bright sunlight on the tree bark showed up much detail.

The sky was a sharp blue and highlighted the detail of the tree canopy, which waved above us.

 

Looking up the tree we saw a squirrels dray, high up.

Being in nature literally made us stop and stare, there was so much to see and hear, birds singing, trees creaking etc, that I now understand even more that it is an immersive experience.

 

Colourful lichen.

This experience cannot be fully understood by those who do not choose or are unable to discover it for themselves.

This is why I am working on two projects at the moment. Both of these are collaborations with other artists. One is working with schools in Kent, encouraging local children to walk out and about into their environs. The other project similarly is about connecting people to place through walking, creating an immersive experience that will engage and inspire.

Being in the environment capturing moments of nature.

The actual form that these will take needs further development and funding, which is being sought at the moment.

Seeing reminders of past seasons, eg: sweet chestnut cases.

Personally, I am putting on a number of day workshops that will explore the themes of walking that I have been studying, exploring and writing about over the last 4 years or so. One is called appropriately, ‘Connecting People to Place’, the second is ‘Women, Walking and Wellbeing’, as I think there is a special place for women, walking in the environment, one which may have been overlooked for a long time.

Old fence posts and trunk, moss attached to both.

Beautiful ring of moss around young sapling.

So, my choice at the moment is to concentrate on these two projects and the two day courses, to encourage people out, to walk in the world and allow them to connect creatively with the place in which they inhabit.