The countryside seems to have thus far escaped the Health and Safety Nazis in that around the Backstreets of the darkest corners of Essex, you can still find the traditional method of keeping your sheep in one field and your crops in another. The longer they stay away from England’s green and pleasant Land, seen here on the Dengie peninsular the better the world will be.
Went for a walk today with the dogs. Rather than retread the familiar path of the sea wall here on Canvey, we decided to travel a little further afield and ended up at Hainault Forest. The kids have never been there before, and it must be 25 yearts at least since I was there, but the memories of many a summer Saturday came flooding back. I even recognised some of the paths I used to hare up and down on my bike in the days when you could go out early on Saturday, and just come home at tea time. No mobile phones, no way of keeping in touch with home. Just a tobacco tin full of stolen dog-ends, a matchbox stuffed with tissue to stop it rattling and my bike. Despite feeling old, and realising with some sadness that the forest isn’t as big as I remember it, next time I go back, I’m going to try and find the tree I carved my name into.
Only had one decent photo as we were having so much fun. This tree intrigued me, as I couldn’t figure out if the fence had sawed it’s way into the tree as the wind blew it about, or whether the tree had grown around the fence.
Looks better larger – If you want to see a bigger version, try HERE
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