Into the green

For a long time I neglected the forests coniferous plantations, shunned them as artificial, man made, wrongly thinking of them as homogeneous, dark and impenetrable or a least hard going. Of course, coniferous plantations are mostly like that when young, although when they mature they become something else. They become a whole worlds. Take the big coniferous block in the middle of Wilverely (a mosaic of deciduous and coniferous blocks), it's a world of mixed aged conifers with a well developed under-story, woodland you can get disorientated in, where you glimpse views through the stands only to lose them with your next step, you're not allowed to see too much at one time. One minute you're in relatively open stands, tall mature trunks reaching for the sky, next you disappear into a densely planted section, only to emerge in a secret secluded grove. The whole block is like that, magical. It's strangely peaceful too, whilst simultaneously so very much alive. Another beautiful thing about this world is that you can move through it almost silently, years of needles and dense moss have created a cushioned carpet, and you can just slide through the low hanging boughs. It's a wonderful sensation moving through like that. The smell too, that clean fresh conifer scent, and where parts remain continually shaded, there's always a petrichor-esque smell. You feel earthed, and grounded in their evergreen confines. Over the last few years I've become attached to the coniferous world. I see it very differently now, or rather I see it as I do the deciduous woods, many of which are also in part or entirely the consequence of human agency. More and more I seek out these less walked areas, criss crossed only by animal tracks (the only paths to travel), you feel alone with the trees and their woodland inhabitants. I find them areas where I can better connect, places where the tranquillity better facilitates contemplation and meditation.