Warwick Slade

The forest is still inundated, standing water fills every undulation, every hollow and walking is like stepping on a vast sodden sponge.  And still the rain falls, not as vigorously and not as persistently, but still far too frequently.  Warwick Slade is a wetland, impassable without getting wet to some degree. So we move into the fringe of Brinken Wood, where the ground is just high enough to remain dry, though still watery hollows block you path and call for alternative routes to be sought.  You can't escape the water, no matter how hard you might try.  Another all too frequent obstacle are the fallen hulks of mature Beech and Oak, supplemented by many smaller species, their humbled crowns crowd the woodland floor. Looking about I can see seven mature Beech, all of which once towered above me, prostrate, splintered and broken on the forest floor.  The forest has certainly suffered this last year.