Walking in the Dark

Something different for the last two nights with walks in the dark at Grizedale Forest and Whinlatter.  These were bookable Events as part of the Cumbria's Dark Sky initiative and were part of our offer for half term. 
They are one of the nicest sessions to lead and always fully booked with jolly and enthusiastic families.

We start indoors with a selection of our old and much loved stuffed, night animals and have a very interactive talk about their habits and sounds. Thirty people hooting like owls, squeaking like mice and howling with their noses pointed to the ceiling as a wolf pack chasing deer is quite awe-inspiring - and very funny. Then we have a firm talk about developing our night vision and fobidding torches before starting on the  first part of the walk. 

Of course, with thirty people tramping along the paths we rarely see any actual creatures, but this does not matter because for most of the children, and some adults, walking after dark in a place with no man-made light is a first. It's always a revelation to find out just how much how our night vision increases as the evening light fails.
Then we turn off the path into the wood proper, under a giant beech in Grizedale, within a stand of Sitka on a knoll in Whinlatter, and lie down on the wet ground, staying as quiet as the mice that scamper beyond the periphery of our sight and just listen and look up at the canopy. It's a wonder as the dark heads of the trees twist and turn in the wind against the lighter sky. The sound of the streams rushing nearby blend with the calls of owls in the distance and overall the roar and movement of the gusts racing down the valleys make the whole wood come alive as a single entity. 

As the youngest kids get restless we start off again but now we can use our torches and watch for the shadows and the glint of reflective shiny pine needles. Moths flutter up, rain spatters down in silver streaks. Pale shapes of toadstools glow sullenly and deep black drains suck up the water and the light. If the cloud cover lifts at all we can sometimes see stars, or even a constellation or two. Cassiopia and the Plough,, Is that bright one really planet Jupiter ? 

And then we are back to the start, blinking in electric light and making hot-chocolate. Marsh mallows are impaled on sticks and toasted on the woodburner I set up earlier. Everybody is chatting to everyone else until at last the first small child falls asleep and length of journey is remembered. Smelling of earth and wood-smoke, it's time to go home.

Left by myself I wash up the mugs and dowse the hot ash and hope I've let the forest speak for itself in their dreams and in their memories