In my youth, I never really appreciated woodland. I suppose youth needs long horizons, intriguing vistas, room to move. To comprehend woods, you need time. It’s all about detail, looking closely, and that’s something which perhaps comes easier as the years go by. There is nothing really special about the woods near where I live. Quite the opposite. Only a few decades ago there wouldn’t have been woodland here at all, just an expanse of small fields, lined by dry stone walls with just a few surviving oak trees spared to provide shade and fodder for the livestock. Then came the great exodus from the land after the Second World War. Many people migrated from the countryside to the cities, or even further afield, hoping for an easier life. So nature did what nature does and flowed back, filling in the spaces abandoned by man.