Land: Essex 11
Spring Equinox
20th March 2021
‘We are all woodland people. Like trees, we hold a genetic memory of the past because trees are parents to the child deep within us. We feel that shared history come alive very time we step into the forest, where the majesty of nature calls to us in a voice beyond our imaginations. But even in those of us who haven’t encountered trees in months or even years, the connection to the natural world is there, waiting to be remembered.’
(From To Speak for the Trees by Diana Beresford-Kroeger)
I hold a genetic memory of the past. It is in my DNA, in my bones and I feel it every time I walk amongst the trees in the Forest. Even though I had not spent time with the trees since I was young, stepping into Epping Forest had the affect of reuniting me with something I did not know I had lost. I felt an inkling of something, but I had positioned it as a way to heal my loss. Loss of loved ones. The unexpected loss of my little brother. That is what made me enter the Forest again. I wanted to listen to the trees, but I found the child deep within and I felt cared for, oddly, and connected. I wanted to connect to the Land, to find a sense of place that would enable me to let loss go. To belong to some thing, some place, and to find some peace. Now as I look back over the last six months, I consider what I have discovered, what I have learnt, how I now feel.
Today is the last time I will visit the Forest with the intention of reflecting on the experience. Today is the first day of the Spring Equinox. The light is balanced, day and night in equanimity. The sky is white, the clouds heavy overhead. The air is still. Everything feels very still today and it takes me a while to get moving and to leave the city. I am reluctant to reach the end of this project, for what will I have to do then? Still unable to travel, work, see people, it is like we are in a state of suspended animation, all engaged in a digital half life, vegetating indoors, reluctant to reignite our lives with the energy that comes from community and communality. I will still visit the Forest, regardless, how could I not? For I have found myself within it. I have remembered who I am. I am better. Better than I was. I have found a way to heal.
The journey East is easy today. I watch as the train whizzes past the Marshes, the reservoirs and into the suburbs, where extensions and roof terraces are built onto the rows of houses that back onto the train track. I am distracted by other peoples’ lives and habitats and am relieved when I reach the end of the line. Stepping out of the train at Chingford I walk quickly across the road and onto the earth. Placing my feet firmly on the trodden path I navigate around the puddles and make my way slowly past the car park and towards the Forest. The car park is busy. It is a Saturday — there will be other walkers in the Forest today I think as I take the muddy path into the canopy. Inside, it is still. It is quiet. It is peaceful. I realise that my head has been quiet and my breathing deep and steady since I stepped onto the earth at the edge of the Plain. It is almost automatic now. I step into the Forest and into this feeling, or is it a mood, or maybe a brainwave state. I cannot find the words to express it. There are no words that convey this feeling of being. Of just being. In the Forest it is easy to be.
Muddy tracks lead me through the wood and over the path that is busy with walkers and dogs. Two horses gallop down the path, their shoes clattering loudly and everyone moves out of their way as they pass. People are sitting on fallen tree trunks, eating and chatting. Children are playing hide and seek. I find a place to sit and eat my sandwiches. It is distracting seeing other people here. In this part of the Forest it is usually just me. I want to walk further today — past the Brook and up the hill and beyond. I have time. It is still early and the light will last longer today than on my last visit. I take my time to wander along the track. Past the swing, through the holly bushes, over the bridge. The familiar route. I love that I know this now, that I can locate myself and find my way. I have mapped this part of the Forest in my head. Beyond this place I have not walked but the unknown does not make me afraid now. I do not panic. I am not anxious. I can find my way. I can find my way back. I can find my way home.
As I walk up the hill, I notice saplings and bushes are starting to unfurl their leaves. Green patches are appearing on the ground where the grasses are growing. Spring is here. I see pools of water ahead. Dark black pools that are as still as glass. They reflect the branches of the trees so that they appear upside down. Perfectly framed the scene takes my breath away. It is beautiful and I stand looking into the dark still water before me. I see other ponds, other patches of dark water ahead and I wander around each and every one, taking my time, as if each of them has something to reveal, something to say to me. I listen. There is no sound apart from some gentle birdsong. No people are walking this way. It is as if time is suspended. I sit for a while to take it all in. A woodpecker is tapping a tree nearby. I take that as a cue to walk on and I walk further to find more pools of water, smaller, but just as dark, just as still. I cannot quite believe my luck. Every visit reveals something new. Something I had not seen before. Some new experience that I had not imagined. It is beyond my imagination. I wander further, deeper.
I see a Plain opening before me and recognise it as a place I walked to in the summer. I walk beside it and further still, before checking the time. The day is ending and I should start to walk back the way I came but nothing looks familiar now. I have walked around and am unsure of the direction I need to take. I turn and walk a different way, past a huge white dead tree, its bark stripped, starkly contrasting with the trees around it. I take a photo and see a small deer ahead, its white tail bouncing as it runs away from the sound of my footsteps. I follow it but it is soon out of sight and I pause to check my location on my phone. I need to turn around again it seems to walk back towards the Brook. I have turned around too many times. But I am not anxious. I am calm. I walk slowly, smiling. I have been smiling for a while I realise. Thinking of nothing. Just smiling and enjoying being here, in the Forest, for just a bit longer. I do not have to rush.
Ahead I see the incline that leads to the Brook and I sit for a while to drink some coffee before making my way back. Through the holly, past the swing, and suddenly the clouds clear and the sun starts to shine. The sky is a bright blue above me and the bare branches look stunning as the sunlight catches them in its gaze. The birds start to sing louder now it seems and I walk slowly, taking it all in, making the most of the day, the walk, the experience. I see a few walkers and cross the path so that I can walk through the wood before leaving. I am, as always, reluctant to leave.
It is still light as I walk out onto the Plain. I watch as the sun starts to set over the Golf Course and make my way slowly back to the station. I sit on the train, looking at the photos I have taken, trying to hold onto the feeling of being there, of finding the ponds, of losing myself in the still dark water, and of finding myself as I walked among the trees. As I walk home from the station, I find myself still calm, still breathing deeply, still at peace. Still. I have entered the sacred space of the Forest and returned a different person. I listened. I looked. I breathed in and out. I relished the beauty of the moment. I relished the beauty of nature, and the symbiotic relationships I witnessed. I am a part of this symbiosis I realise. I am a creature of the Forest. I am a sibling of the trees. I am a breathing, living entity that thrives in nature, that belongs in the Forest, just like the trees. I am a woodland person. So are you, even if you don’t know it. We are all children of the trees. We all share the same space, the same air, the same earth, the same Sun, the same wind, the same Moon. We are all connected. I take this realisation with me. I found it in the Forest and now I have taken it home. I hold it in my heart now. It is with me forever. I have experienced the Land and found a place of belonging. It has allowed me to let go of loss, but more than that, it has revealed the interconnectedness of life, the way in which we all depend on each other, reciprocity and respect. I am reminded of love. I am reminded of who I am and what I am and why I am. I am a tree, growing and thriving in the symbiotic community of my loved ones and the place I call home. Sustained by sunlight, air, nature and love, I live on. Like the trees. I am here. Still.
