Fear of the Dragon, The Dragon Bench. Deep into St. Leonard's Forest. This bench has been carved from a single log into the shape of the legendary Dragon reputed to roam the forest, West Sussex, England.
Commentary.
Legend suggests that a Dragon lived in the forest.
Presumably, it would drink from the numerous “Hammer-Ponds” and “Gills”, or streams, that feed the River Arun.
Perhaps it fed on deer, rabbits and other mammals that lived in the forest.
It is even possible that straying humans might be added
to the menu, should they enter the dense canopy of the forest!
In more recent times, local schools have adopted logos linked to this notorious legend.
The Public House on Forest Road, at Colgate, is named, “The Dragon.”
There is even a log-bench carved into the shape of a Dragon
at the northern end of Mick Mill’s Mile.
Folklore suggests that there might be practical reasons for such stories to be popularised.
Through much of the Wealden Forest, from Medieval times to the 19th. Century, smugglers would transport their contraband, from the coast to London, via hidden tracks and lanes, through the dense forest.
To discourage locals from wandering the forest and reporting
their illegal trade, the smugglers would spread fearsome tales
of terrible Dragons, and even the Devil himself.
Fortunately, nowadays, the forest is enjoyed by walkers, cyclists and horse-riders, as much as it was feared in the dim, distant past.
Poem.
Ancient woodlands.
Oak, Birch, Pine, Fern and Gorse.
Paths, tracks and bridleways,
north, south, east and west.
Dense, emerald canopy
bursting yellow with rays of the sun.
The trees have a spirit, a profound presence,
character, connection, a gently pulsating life-force.
The forest, a place to enjoy, breathe, ponder, see and feel.
The forest talks to me with its sounds, its sights,
its breeze through the leaves, its birds, deer, insects and fungi.
An internet of life long before the electronic one,
and done in whispers, no fake news or toxic insults.
Just a pristine, unspoiled living beauty that asks no more
than to live and thrive.
Give me the hills and the forests.
Only there can I find myself.
But…… BEWARE of the Dragon,
whatever guise that Dragon may take!?
Fear of the Dragon, The Dragon Bench. Deep into St. Leonard's Forest. This bench has been carved from a single log into the shape of the legendary Dragon reputed to roam the forest, West Sussex, England.
Commentary.
Legend suggests that a Dragon lived in the forest.
Presumably, it would drink from the numerous “Hammer-Ponds” and “Gills”, or streams, that feed the River Arun.
Perhaps it fed on deer, rabbits and other mammals that lived in the forest.
It is even possible that straying humans might be added
to the menu, should they enter the dense canopy of the forest!
In more recent times, local schools have adopted logos linked to this notorious legend.
The Public House on Forest Road, at Colgate, is named, “The Dragon.”
There is even a log-bench carved into the shape of a Dragon
at the northern end of Mick Mill’s Mile.
Folklore suggests that there might be practical reasons for such stories to be popularised.
Through much of the Wealden Forest, from Medieval times to the 19th. Century, smugglers would transport their contraband, from the coast to London, via hidden tracks and lanes, through the dense forest.
To discourage locals from wandering the forest and reporting
their illegal trade, the smugglers would spread fearsome tales
of terrible Dragons, and even the Devil himself.
Fortunately, nowadays, the forest is enjoyed by walkers, cyclists and horse-riders, as much as it was feared in the dim, distant past.
Poem.
Ancient woodlands.
Oak, Birch, Pine, Fern and Gorse.
Paths, tracks and bridleways,
north, south, east and west.
Dense, emerald canopy
bursting yellow with rays of the sun.
The trees have a spirit, a profound presence,
character, connection, a gently pulsating life-force.
The forest, a place to enjoy, breathe, ponder, see and feel.
The forest talks to me with its sounds, its sights,
its breeze through the leaves, its birds, deer, insects and fungi.
An internet of life long before the electronic one,
and done in whispers, no fake news or toxic insults.
Just a pristine, unspoiled living beauty that asks no more
than to live and thrive.
Give me the hills and the forests.
Only there can I find myself.
But…… BEWARE of the Dragon,
whatever guise that Dragon may take!?