Issue #2 The Miscellaneous Adventures Digest

Exploring autumnal hidden valleys and braving cold water

Hello again. It seems like just yesterday I was writing our most recent entry, which is because it was. Hopefully I’ll get quicker and it won’t take me all week to write each post moving forward.

You will no doubt be pleased to hear I’m now qualified to fell “medium” trees as well as “small” ones. Small trees are technically those up to 380mm in diameter and medium trees are those from 380mm up to 760mm. I’ve been dealing with trees of all sorts of sizes since I accidentally became a woodsman way back when, but it’s nice to have the qualification and to know I’m doing things as safely as possible. Sadly there is relatively large contingent of foresters and woodsmen who scoff at training and health and safety in the name of bravado but I’m pretty keen to keep my body in tact so I can work in the woods for as long as possible.

After another wet and windy week, we were relieved to see a break in the weather forecasted for Saturday. We headed out to our favourite place on a search for autumnal treasures, of which we found plenty. We have been visiting this spot, a hidden valley cloaked in twisted oak and birch since we moved here in January. Watching it change throughout the seasons as we come nearly full circle into another winter has been a source of intrigue and joy. A few weeks of bad weather and illness (we finally succumbed to Covid, plus Benji had Chicken Pox) meant we had missed the golden glow of the birches; just a few bright yellow leaves remain but beeches and oaks painted bold strokes of orange on a backdrop of grey boulders and dark brown trunks. We are drawn to places like this; valleys and ravines full of vibrant growth and seasonal change, steep and craggy enough to have escaped being overgrazed like many of the open fells.

Here Benji has honed his clambering skills, he scampers up and over rocky outcrops and climbs boulders as big as him; we watch with a mix of pride and terror as his independence grows slightly faster than his sense of self preservation. There is plenty here to keep his interest, a tumbling river, giant boulders, hidden caves and crooked trees covered in moss and lichen. We spot a treecreeper and a woodpecker and watch a nuthatch hatching nuts. This place is a study in interaction; nothing exists in isolation. One of the most curious interactions to me is the interplay between tree and rock. Oak trees seem to spring directly from boulders, in other places trunks have morphed to engulf rocks and crooked roots creep, tangle, twist and wrap themselves around huge chunks of stone.

We swim in the river here sometimes too, but we are not prepared this time. It’s been a while since we took the plunge; the river is swollen and fast flowing after the recent rain and we decide that this should not be our first attempt at getting back into the water after a weather and health induced hiatus.

The following day we headed to Wastwater. The air was chilly but the sun was shining and we felt happier about the idea of taking a dip in the calm waters of the lake than the raging river of the day before. It has been a month since we last swam; how much colder had the water got since then? Taking it in turns, we stripped down and waded out for what seemed like ages to get to the point where the water was deep enough to get fully submerged; a dip and a few quick swimming strokes is all we can manage in the icy lake but it feels good to be back in the water and to have conquered the fear of the cold again. Swimming in the lakes, rivers and tarns here has been somewhat revelatory for us. We miss that deep connection to the woods that we had, but in swimming we have found a new way to connect to nature that brings us joy and a sense of kinship with the forces that shape the landscape. Entering the water feels restorative, transformational. We go in as one person and come out as another. I’m grateful to my friend Georgia who talked me into taking a dip for the first time in lake Coniston on a frosty morning in March. Free flowing rivers and deep pools with waterfalls cascading into them are the best; I like to feel the energy and power of the water. I do wonder if we’ll be able to keep it up throughout the coldest months, but we intend to try…

It’s another wet and windy week, but there is a dusting of snow on the highest tops which is nice to see. We’re hoping for more in the way of wintery weather as we head into December. That’s all for now, see below for more photos of our weekend adventure!

Andrew, Emma and Benji