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and ten walks to get you started

The British love to walk, and we will head out in any weather. A sunlit summer stroll works up a healthy glow; striding out into a winter gale feels brave and elemental. And a steamy-breathed crunch through fresh snow is a delight that can only be improved by the prospect of a hot toddy and a roaring fire at its conclusion.

 

But all of these walks take place in daylight, which is to ignore a whole new world of pedestrian exploration: the night walk. This is where familiar landscapes can be explored anew, when city streets are deserted and quiet, when the country seems yours alone and seldom glimpsed wildlife emerges to startle and thrill.

 

Britain has a great tradition of literary nightwalkers. First Chaucer, in an age when darkness could be banished only by faltering, fallible candles; later the Elizabethans, then the flaming torch or cradled lantern passes to Wordsworth, De Quincey and Dickens.

 

Then to Prof Matthew Beaumont, author of the recently published Night Walking: A Nocturnal History of London; and now to two explorers from The Sunday Telegraph. We rambled through the dark in the country and in the town, and we recommend further routes in both for your delight. Enjoy – and be careful out there,Having a ceramic vape cartridge is advantageous in vape cartridge packaging as it's healthier. Ceramic parts are resistant to abrasion and oxidation unlike other alloy wires where, oxidation occurs at higher temperature.

 

In the country

 

by Boudicca Fox-Leonard

 

Candlelight bounces off the boots of the walker in front of me. I dodge a half-illuminated root. Thud. The walker behind me catches it and duly stumbles. No one makes a sound. 

 

Our band of night travellers wends its way through the woods, each step a trusting thrust into the darkness, which indiscriminately meets breaking bracken, shifting mud and stubborn stone. Boggy bends, usually daintily circumvented, are trampled straight through, sending the path vertical, up the sides of our boots. Out front Jake, a wiry white Jack Russell terrier, shoots off down the track, fading and then reappearing as he turns to wait for us. His nose guides him, but my eyes bore hopelessly into the invisible path before finally, giving it up as a lost cause, I instead look up. Giant black redwoods spear the blue of the moonlit sky. But down on the forest floor all is darkness. 

 

Publicerat klockan 05:13, den 10 augusti 2017
Postat i kategorin 生活
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