Walking is an activity as old as Man. I have been walking since I was a child; one of my earliest memories is of me traipsing along a coastal path when all I really wanted to do was go down onto the beach and build sandcastles. Today, however, is a different story; the days I am able to escape from the hustle and bustle of daily city life are the ones that I relish the most. The possibilities of freedom are endless as I have no expectations of myself or of the journey I am about to undertake.
Ask me anything
This is a diary of my walking.
Kirroughtree, Galloway Forest
I didn’t feel like taking any photographs or writing anything down along this walk. Don’t get me wrong, my mind was still alive; looking at places where a photograph could have been taken or a comment about the land made but instead I just enjoyed the walk for the simple act that it is. Putting one foot in front of the other repeatedly and taking in all the different sights, sounds and smells that the forest had to give.
I think sometimes when I’m not looking o make a comment or see something is sometimes when you see more; how the water tumbles over the rocks, how he moss has taken over the forest floor and slowly spreading onto the trees, how the sunlight breaks through the forest canopy illuminating a section of tree or the floor, shadows being cast on the path and how dense, untouched and eerie parts of the forest can really feel.