Life is languid in the drowsy wood
by Matt Shardlow from on (#JPFR)
Fermyn Woods, Northamptonshire I have it all to myself, and in two hours of exploring long open rides and twisting enclosed trails I see no other human
The moniker Fermyn Woods applies to a scatter of woods. I am in the biggest chunk, covering three square kilometres of land, but a clear kilometre away from the renowned Fermyn Wood, the bit that draws crowds to its playground and purple emperor butterflies.
In today's wood, the names tell of a mottled history - Harry's Park Wood, Meadow Leys, Old Dry Bushes. Clearly this was not always hazel coppice, and ash and oak high forest, with patches of conifer plantation: in the past, livestock roamed meadows and park woodland.
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