Word had spread of the rope swing, and Shirley Hills was fast becoming a destination. My brother, who I’d been trying to coax out into the woods for some time, rang me this morning to plan a walk. He turned up at my flat, full hiker. Wooly hat, blue puffer… shorts. In December, shorts are seldom seen in the woods, but if anyone is going to wear shorts in the middle of winter it’s him. The closer we got to the woods, the wetter and gloomier it seemed to get.
I can’t stress enough how good this rope swing is. I’d love to personally congratulate the person responsible for it. Everything about the swing is excellent; its location, height, proximity to a precipice, even it’s colour scheme. We decided to push the boundaries of rope swinging, upside down, no hands, standing… endless fun.
Standing up on the rope swing was the last ‘trick’ we could think of, so we went further into the woods to see what else we could find. We came across a camp, well hidden in the trees. I don’t know whether it was in use or abandoned, but it was quite eerie. I took a picture through the trees, but it was very well hidden.
Another great day of woodland wandering.