Glistening, shimmering and glorious trees, blast out the cool air that no other herb from any naturist family can ever share so freely.

It’s a hot sunny day in Hamstead Heath, kites fly high in the clear blue sky; so high that the naked eye cannot see.  A string gripped tightly by a man, weavering from side to side, trying hard to find his balance and searching around to find the best spot on the hill top.  He ties a coke bottle to the string, it’s like a bow tie guiding his vision in the bright dazzling sunlight.  There he stands for hours and hours, untangling a reel that never seems to end.  The children gather round him like a swarm of bees, asking questions, curiously gazing at the mechanisms’ and shouting “Where is it, where is it?”……………….

As I stroll along the footpath, I am immersed in aromas that fill my lungs with sweet smells.  I reach out and touch the roses, lavender plants and sun flowers that sit pretty, so peacefully, clinched tightly together, lapping up the sun and sharing their beauty so freely.

I take a photograph, it’s a picture of a small pond where a family of ducks have reigned for some time, guided by their mother’ the tiny ducklings follow in a line, so pin and proper, highly disciplined while they nibble on pieces of bread that people are throwing into the water hoping to gauge their attention and draw them closer to the edge.

As the sun sparkles deep into the water, I stare for a moment.  My mind drifts away and wanders back in time to my childhood days. I reflect and remember happy memories, feelings and visions come stumbling back, picnics by a river on a hot sunny day, throwing pebbles into the water, watching the circles form so perfectly on the surface and counting fish for hours and hours. 

My reminiscing moments are suddenly shattered by the sound of a bee, buzzing and hovering around my ears looking for a nesting place, I quickly swipe him away and continue my journey into the woodlands. It’s a shaded, cool and tranguil haven.  The sun is battling its way through the tree tops, penetrating rays of light like flashes of lightening on a cold winters evening. It’s a hiding place, sheltered off, leaves netted tightly together creating a roof top like a cosy mud hut.  Away from the worlds hussle and buzzle I look around and enjoy the sheer ambiance.  I notice old trees resting peacefully which had fallen many years ago but is still determined to be part of time.  Their weathered skin reflects hard times gone by and only a smooth, bear and shiny surface remains with circles carved so neatly, compassed to perfection they proudly state their age.

As I stroll through this hidden den, I follow pathways leading to unforseen places.  It’s like a maze, a maze with no end.  As I walk for miles and miles through this tranquil woodland, my legs begin to ache, I sit for a while and watch the squirrels climb high on the trees, swaging their tails, scavening around hoping to find food and some digging deep into the ground cleverly finding their hidden reserves that they had stored away for some time.

“I don’t want to leave this place but sadly I must.”  As I slowly recollect my thoughts and try to find a way out, I know I am approaching a nearby exit as I am suddenly awoken by the sounds of sirens in the far of distance, traffic buzzing everywhere, mobile phones ringing, people shouting and smoke from the evening barbecue’s blowing swiftly in my direction forming a cloud above my head.

I quickly take a last glimpse as I turn the key in my car door, I finally spot that kite in the far off distance, flying high in the sky, dancing and swaying from side to side.

My day is fulfilled as I feel enchanted and inspired by the beauty of nature in Hamstead Heath.

I will return some day!