Map Walks
SArah Collier
During lockdown this year, NWP (UK) member Sarah Collier, her son Ollie, aged nine and their dog went exploring in the summer sunshine. Sarah took the day out and inspiration from National Writing Day and Writing Box to come up with the piece below.
Scroll down for Sarah’s original writing, photos and Ollie’s own illustrated map.
MAP Walks
June 2020
We set off on National Writing Day (also the hottest day of the year) for Catton Woods to do some writing on the theme of ‘Walk Maps’. This idea came from Jeni Smith’s blog post of the same title on Writing Box: https://writingbox.home.blog/2020/06/19/walk-maps/
Ollie (9) is nervous about what we’re up to. He’s not always the most enthusiastic writer but he loves walking the dog at Catton Park and likes the idea of taking a clipboard and jotting down a map of our route.
We set off through the huge wooden kissing gate into the darkness of the woods. It’s much cooler in here. I start to point out things Ollie might like to jot down: holly leaves littering the floor, giant cow parsley, the stinky dog poo bins….
“No!” squawks Ollie, “I’m trying to draw our exact route!”
It’s like being in the presence of a master cartographer. He rubs pencil marks out here and there, adds paths each time a new one branches off. The dog gets bored of stopping and starting and flops down, back legs sprawled out behind her, pink tongue lolling.
I try and offer some more helpful suggestions:
“Look pine trees! A bird box!”
But the artist will not be deterred from his map-drawing mission. I’m worried about the lack of words on his map (as that was the aim) but I decide to do my own writing instead. I jot down some of the things we say to each other whilst walking:
“Look! A birdbox!”
“No, I’m past that tree. I’m onto the next landmark.”
“Are you being a perfectionist?”
“No, well yes (whining) because what I’ve drawn does not look like a pony!”
“Look! Mole hills!
“No, mum.”
“Rusty barbed-wire fence, mum! Do you think it’s World War Two?”
“How do you spell fairy?”
Look, mum! This spider’s web’s turned red from the fungi. It’s infested it!”
“Be careful. I think they’ve set traps here.”
We pause in the clearing where we sometimes stop for a picnic. No walk is complete in our household without bringing a ‘mobile caff’ with us. Even the dog expects it and sits between us waiting for the flask to be brought out and whatever treats accompany it. Normally this is where we chat but the dog and I have to entertain ourselves as Ollie is deep in concentration feverishly adding the picnic area and the Scot’s Pine to his map. He is so engrossed that he doesn’t realise he’s reached the end of his page and so another piece of paper comes out to tack onto it so he can continue his route.
At the end of the woods (where Ollie finds the oak tree with red fungi growing up it), the path comes out into a huge open common and we turn back for home. The dog makes friends with a Cairn Terrier and then ruins it by snapping at him because she doesn’t want to be sniffed at any more. We call her away embarrassedly and plow on into the heat, the long, dry grass scratching at our legs.
“There should’ve named this Desert Day!” said Ollie, “Can we go back into the woods. It’s much cooler in there.”
And so we cut back into the woods, scratching our legs on brambles and pushing aside thick undergrowth until we find the path again. Ollie adds to the tension of the moment by insisting that someone has set hidden traps which we might at any point stand on.
The woods are indeed much cooler and Ollie loves the idea of following his map backwards, calling out the landmarks as they appear: the ‘infinity tree’, the crater (possibly caused by a jettisoned World War Two bomb), the umbrella tree…
At the tree with the fairy door, we suddenly realise that the dog is not with us. This is not our normal route; we always go home across the common so the dog must’ve got confused. We call her and call her. I’m sure she’ll come but Ollie is panicked and runs back to the clearing with the umbrella tree. There is silence for a moment or two and I regret letting him go back alone, but suddenly they appear together, boy and dog running along side each other in union, clouds of dust coming up as their feet hit the dry ground.
“The boy ran through the dusty woods in his flip flops,” I say as they get closer.
“Oh I like that!” says Ollie. And with the dog safely on the lead, we spend the rest of the journey home coming up with story ideas as to why a boy might be running through woods one day in a pair of unsuitable flip flops.
Inspired by Sarah’s writing and her insights? Why not try this yourself or with a group (adults and/or students) and let us know how you got on. Connect with us via social media or drop us an email - just follow the links at the bottom of the page.
