The Bluebell is the sweetest flower

The Bluebell is the sweetest flower
That waves in summer air;
Its blossoms have the mightiest power
To soothe my spirit's care

We've been friends for sometime now, haven't we?  In that case I think it is about time I showed you around my office.

Well, not the boring parts of the office. The bits that are a hop, skip and a rabbit jump away and at this time of year, simply glorious. You could not pay me to work in London at the moment when I have all this mere minutes from my desk.

Steve bought me a Fitbit about a month ago, and it has been encouraging me (quite literally; the thing buzzes at me every time it thinks I have moved enough recently) to get up and get going.  This, combined with the need to hit 10K steps a day, and the fact that the weather has suddenly become warm(er) and sun(nier) have all combined to mean that I have been using my lunch breaks as an opportunity to get out and explore the glorious countryside that surrounds my campus, and in some cases, still very much part of the campus.

Much as Bronte said in her poem, I have also found that these walks amongst the bluebells and wildflowers have had a deeply relaxing effect on me.  They are a wonderful de-stresser, helping me to focus and breath deep, great gulps of fresh air, inhaling the sweet scents of hawthorn and cherry blossom that litter the pathways.  When I have returned to the office, I have been much more focussed and productive, and I am also sleeping better at night.

Amazingly, although all of this is right there on our doorsteps, most students and staff don't even realise it exists as, for the most part, you access it by either going off the footpaths or behind buildings.

I have to say though, as far as lunchtime strolls go, it doesn't get much better than bluebell woods, wildflower meadows and sweeping views of the Cathedral.

There are secret cubby holes made out as fairy glades where people can pull up a quiet mushroom and get stuck into a book.

Great old trees just begging to be climbed

Glades and secret pools where ducks snooze contentedly, unless disturbed by one of the hundreds of wild rabbits that litter the hillside.

Places that remind me of one of my favourite paintings at the Tithe barn exhibition

Bluebell woods transforming the secret walks into a sea of gently waving shades of blue.

 

I've been walking the paths every lunch break for the last month, and I am still finding new trails, new pathways and new secrets to unlock, each adventure lasting just long enough to have me back at my computer just as my lunch break is over.

Will you have a lunchtime adventure next week?

The Franciscan Way

I've been meaning for ages to put these photo's up from a stroll I took along the Franciscan Way.

Where I grew up, there were loads of Green Chain Walks - pathways linking the fields and woodlands together in the heart of South East London.

It was perfectly possible to walk from Bromley to Downham and back via Beckenham without hitting a single road, as long as you followed the signs.  My sister and I, along with Jan (whose internal sat nav would somehow mean we would never get lost for too long), would get home from school in the summer, have dinner at our respective houses then jump on our bikes and head off into the fields and woods for a couple of hours until it got too dark and we had to come home to go to bed.  Every so often we would go further than normal and reach the mansion in the centre of the parkland. 

Other times we would borrow Becky, the Boxer dog who lived next to Jan and run to the park at the bottom of the hill and then go walking along the River Ravensbourne until we got to the tire swing.  Most of the time we made it across in one piece; not always though!  We would spend hours outdoors, just walking, playing and chatting and not once did it occur to us that we were exercising or being healthy - it was just fun.  It sounds so Enid-Blyton-twee looking back on it, but it really was a fabulous way to spend an evening.

Canterbury is a bit different.  The walks are everywhere - essentially you step out of the City and you are in the middle of the countryside until you reach the next town or village so the walks don't need to be signposted as they were in my childhood.  In the city center though there are a few (small) signposted walks that revolve around the ancient gardens and the River Stour, which, in the spring and summer, are wonderfully peaceful places to relax.

They are all located incredibly close to the High Street, and when you are sat relaxing in one of the parks, it is sometimes surprising just how close you really are to the bustling heart of Canterbury.  Only the Cathedral spires soaring over the top of you give you any real indication of exactly where you are.

One of my friends swears by the Franciscan Chapel Gardens as one of the best picnic spots in Canterbury; you work your way up the high street, purchasing various sumptuous delights from each of the street vendors, then head to the gardens with your bag of treats to sit with your feet dangling over the river, basking in the early afternoon sunlight.

The gardens and walk here are a lot tamer than the ones I remember from my childhood - those were uncared for, overgrown and the river was frequently full of litter, shopping trolleys, children's shoes and occasionally the odd door off a car.  In a strange way, that was part of the beauty of it though and I have extremely fond memories of climbing over and through twisted steel gates and fallen trees.  Here, everything appears immaculate in comparison, clean and well loved.

It has a very different beauty; an archaic one that speaks of a bygone era when monks would have tended the river and the grounds to provide sustenance for their brothers.  It still has that air of tranquility about it; a haven in the midst of a busy, bustling city.

They are a sanctuary away from the pressures and stresses of modern life, taking me right back to when I was a child playing games by the river with my sister and my friend.

 

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