I was alerted to the term 'desire lines' by Camera Obscura's new album (can you guess what they've called it?). For those who don't follow Glaswegian indie pop; desire lines are those paths created by people taking shortcuts through woodlands/fields/scraps of planting around retail parks, instead of following the designated paths that Landscape Architects spend most of their waking hours planning, drawing, re-drawing, testing materials for etc (some of us even dream about paths. I'm not even joking).
Rather than seeing desire lines as a direct insult to my sleep deprivation; I follow them. I have been led to such secret locations as: large collections of beer bottles and condoms, stunning views, people's gardens and perfect climbing trees. Which induced experiences of disgust, awe, being chased by dogs and feeling like a fearless child again. Frequently I find myself walking in a large circle or to an excellent patch of grass (livestock make desire lines too, their desires are usually different to mine) but it's always an adventure and reminds me to take some time to discover something new about places I know well, and places I don't.
On one of those sunny days we had at the weekend I followed a desire line to an adorable Scout-camp-weekend-activity-style bridge which was a genuinely delightful experience and reminded me why I risk finding evidence of dogging/grumpy dogs.
I always forget about Beech trees (especially in winter when they're quietly all around me with their smooth bark that leads me to confuse them with Sycamores (a heinous crime)). But now there's been a couple of days of sunshine and a couple of days of torrential downpours and their deliciously fresh green, satisfyingly sturdy-shaped leaves have burst forth in my little corner of north west England and I am in awe.
Beech (Fagus sylvatica)
