Out Of Step...

Yesterday was another glorious blue sky sunny stunner on the Kent coast and I felt compelled to take advantage of my unemployed state by heading for the woods. The start of my walk took me through a suburban landscape of neat gardens and cars parked up on smart gravel or tarmac driveways. As my barber commented recently - "This part of town was designed with the car in mind. The streets are wide and there's plenty of space for parking." The suburbs offer nature tamed, greenery to be contemplated at leisure from the sagging comfort of a deck chair or to be glimpsed from the corner of an eye as one hauls one's bulk into a Range Rover.

The next phase of the walk took me across land that, footpaths aside, was now designated as a golf course. I tried my best not to get in the way of the smartly dressed lads and dapper granddads who were dotted about. But the signs were vague and I was exploring new ground - I had to stop and ask for directions. I was instantly identified as some sort of transgressor. When it became clear that I spoke good English and had not been living in the woods but was just "Out for a ramble" as one of the lads helpfully suggested attitudes softened. They helpfully showed me the way out and I was as pleased to get off their manicured lawns as they were to see me disappear into the bushes from whence I came.

Finally I entered the woods, the sound of the nearby A299 was subdued and then obliterated by the gentle murmur of oak and sweet chestnut. I walked on a bed of leaves and mosses, each step softened to the dullest of thuds. Birds sang in glowing glades and gossamer threads shone silver across my path. Pretty soon I came close to shoving my face right through a complicated web. I stood for some minutes admiring the arachnitecture. Long silks stretched for five or six meters to enable the web to be positioned in the most advantageous spot, a place clear of foliage - like the path I was walking along!

At first I was concerned that my progress through the woods might be responsible for the destruction of so many webs. But then I realised something else. Here I was, right in the midst of some of the oldest and most beautiful woods in the country. And I was completely, utterly, alone. There were folk sunning themselves in their gardens. There were folk playing golf. Yes it was a week day and most people would be at work but still I found it extraordinary to have such a beautiful spot to myself in such a crowded corner of England.

I continued my walk and met a handful of people. Two were on bikes. The others all had dogs. One lady articulated what I felt to be the feelings of many as her two hounds sniffed at my boots.

"They're wondering where your dog is!"

I didn't have one. I was just a loan freak with a backpack and a picnic. Out in the woods for no reason other than the sheer love of being there.

Later I drank a pint in a pub.

Later still I picked a box full of blackberries - a box I calculated would be worth £5 at London prices.

And then I caught a bus home.

And I listened to the lads talking about passing driving tests and the cars they would buy. I marveled at the power of the Ford Fiesta - the hold it continues to have on the adolescent mind. Cars, girls, all the usual stuff. Could I imagine those boys out for a walk in the woods? No way. The odd round of golf perhaps...