Ocknell woods

Cross plain and adjacent to the airfield remains, plantation lays at the head of Highland Water, high on this central plateau of the forest. Gnarled Oaks and Beech mingle with mature Holly, forming a mature open woodland; plantation planted in 1768 it is one of the older plantations in the forest. From its dells nestled amongst the trees, three rivulets emerge from boggy ground, coming together to form the nucleus of Highland water, shortly before it disappears through a tunnel under the A31 at The wind blew an icy chill through the land, high on StoneyOcknellOcknellOcknell arch. The woods appeared in some way forbidding, dark and sinister in the low grey winter light that bathed them in flat lustre; set snugly in a valley, they hold the moisture, hold it well, creating damp, dank and sodden woodland. An unwelcome feeling dwelt amongst trees today; I don't know if it were the projection of my own low mood or the forest, but an uneasy feeling prevailed. Usually at ease with the woods, I felt skittish, on edge, the trees appeared strange and unusual, unlike their kin in other woods, the older trees struck one as twisted and haunted. Its places too had an eerie feel, the paths, the glades, the tracks that disappeared in to the gloom, all were imbued with a curious glamour as if a past was being hidden. I was glad to be through them, which is not a common feeling for me; I found distraction though, in tracing the path of the infant Highland Water, although this too seemed more difficult than similar searches. What was being concealed? Ocknell didn't want to give up anything, it cloaked its true self, kept its secrets hidden; maybe for another day.