Sherwood Pines Forest Park

Crowded car park, bikes hurtling and bouncing past, families and stag parties attached to zip wires, half way up trees. Welcome to Sherwood Pines Forest Park. We do have to accept, in England, that much of what we know as the countryside bears the strong imprint of human hands, and this is very much the case in this Forestry Commission managed area of Sherwood Forest. But while it’s possible to debate how natural this forest is, there is no doubting that the Park is a large chunk of wooded area and so worth surely worth a look.

Actually I don’t mind all of the noise of the visitors’ centre/café hub of park. Firstly it demonstrates that contrary to endless news reports, we’re not totally a nation of obese console gamers. It’s good to see people enjoying being outdoors, and while many of them are going too fast to see much of it, I can understand the thrill of careering downhill over ruts and roots, only being able to guess at the sharpness of the bend ahead. Secondly, the aforementioned bustle, with its clicking of wheels and gears and children’s excited screams, serve to accentuate the calm when you find a less populated footpath, slightly further into the forest.
And when your ears have retuned to the quieter surroundings, you realise that the wood is far from silent as birdsong and call filters through the branches. There’s the rasping and croaking of various corvids, the laughter of green woodpeckers and plenty of other industrious seeping of tits and finches, twittering of wrens. A glance up to the top of the tall pines reveals frequent passages of small mixed flocks of foraging birds. For all the management and cropping that goes on in Forestry Commission land, the wildlife is there, making the most of this resource.
Among the sound-absorbing pines there are also stands of native broad leaved trees, patches of rich smelling bracken and even a few small areas of heath land, complete with purple heather. I found these areas particularly pleasing. Like Hertford Heath in Hertfordshire, discovering a patch of local(ish) heath is a small and unexpected treasure.
It’s early September, some parts of the forest are starting to carry the fungal smell of decay, reminding you of the cycles of life within the wood. There are still splashes of wild flower colour, the odd red campion flower holding on, a few blooms of foxgloves now outnumbered by their brown, dead siblings. The sunlight that filters through the trees is hazy and diluted, there’s some still warmth, the season’s are in transition, the deciduous trees preparing for their show of autumn colours.
Going to a busy forest park doesn’t feel like going to the true countryside. Following, or trying to follow the white way markers isn’t the same as looking at the OS map and choosing your route.  But the wildlife here isn’t concerned with how manmade their habitat might be, and this park is large enough to afford pockets of tranquillity, expanses of beauty and plenty of room to breathe.