Walking is medicine — it cures anxiety, sparks inspiration, and brings us back to ourselves am back home for Christmas, and yesterday, on Boxing Day, I walked in the rain from my village and down into the valley, then upwards and into the woodlands. This is my childhood village — a village called Shelley in the West Riding of Yorkshire. One woodland stands above and another at the bottom of the valley. On either side of the village, farmlands blanket endless rolling hills. A patchwork of green fields bordered by hedgerows and drystone walls cut across the landscape in every direction. Wildflowers and farm animals (mostly cows or sheep) abound, and the picture is dotted with the occasional ancient farmhouse or barn. The late sun spilled light through the trees and onto the footpath, and every so often a grey squirrel would scurry across my path and ascend the nearest tree until out of sight. Whenever you walk into the woods it feels as if you have entered a sanctuary — everything you think matters does not seem to matter all that much under the shelter of the trees. Trees are mysterious to me, like gods or mystics, infinitely […]

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