Is it just me?
That gets the feels each time I step into somewhere very very old?
It can be quite claustrophobic when the place is a building but when it is a forest the feels go into hyperdrive. The quality of light is different. Filtered through leaf and tree, it floats somehow. Then the stillness, the smell, the sound, the latent apprehension and the hushed call to the wilderness all seem far more concentrated in a forest when it is very old. It sort of singles you out and hones in doesn’t it?
Forests are relentlessly inspiring.
High Rocks were once part of The Wealden Lake, an expanse of freshwater that existed when Belgium, the Straits of Dover and South East England were joined together. The rocks were formed at the end of the last ice age. Today, they are privately owned by a pub and make a curious wedding venue.
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