***A brief history of the humble British footpath begins here.***
The history of footpaths in England tells the story of urbanization experienced in so many regions of the world.
A simple means of crossing privately owned land to get to market, school and other destinations, footpaths were eliminated during early 19th-century industrialization when land became a source of mass food production and “enclosure acts” led millions of dispossessed poor to relocate to the cities.
Fortunately artists and intellectuals came to the rescue (as they often do)—rejecting mechanistic views of nature, re-enchanting the public imagination, and helping shift the appetites of a growing middle class for more access to the wilds. (See the Romanticism movement for more on this.)
By 1949 a group of concerned ramblers and conservationists proposed the “National Parks and Access to the Countryside Act,” eventually spurring the creation of a network of parks, paths and rights of way liberating the land.
Since then dozens of public footpaths were created (like the 104-mile Cotswold Way), crisscrossing the countryside and offering jewel-box views of sheep pastures, ancient glades, and stream-stitched parishes.
***End history minute***
Sloshy with tea, Maddy and I set out on our own adventure—through the waist-high grasses and blooming meadows from Warden’s Way to and Monarch Way and briefly along the old Roman road known as Fosse (Latin for “ditch) Way.
The amble did not disappoint and, while the scenery was quietly stunning, the real treasure was conversation with Maddy, with observations about our family culture, body image, the politics of whiteness, and the dark history of eugenics and modern medicine.
At some point Maddy’s phone blew up with texts re the overturning of Roe v Wade. We needed a community of women to process with but the fields and birds offered what presence they could while we metabolized outrage, resignation and fear—especially about what this might portend for other rights legislation and the next presidential election.
The ruling brought to mind my experience upon entry to England over 20 years ago, when a Heathrow customs agent let me know he was denying the work visa we had gotten legally cleared stateside because I was considered “chattel and goods”—that is, Tom’s property. I refused to enter the country until another agent could be found to acknowledge my legal right to work.
It feels like women are always having to fight these battles. Surely there is a way to hold all life as sacred while also protecting women’s rights over their bodies and access to healthcare?
We let the conversation get worked out through our feet. Sun and blue sky and words shared with a daughter make me feel hopeful in spite of myself.
In BOTW, we quenched our thirst, used the loo, took photos aplenty and kept small souvenir shops financially afloat.
Our homeward journey left us gratifyingly spent with final mileage punching in at 7.5. We napped and called it very good.
After rousing we took pencils and paints to the River and gave ourselves over to beauty and making.
Dinner on the back patio was simple leftovers accompanied by the conversation of neighboring wood pigeons, jackdaws and lambs.
Before lights out, our nightly dose of the random—“Would you rather fight a human-sized spider or a thousand regular-sized spiders? A hobbity question if ever there was one.
Young people and cute “hiking” clothes
A clear winner for where the Pevensie children were sent and discovered the wardrobe to Narnia.
I appreciate good signage but found these arrows quite moody.
Oddly shaped conveyances like this one keep sheep from wandering beyond their pasture and Americans scratching their heads.
A well-marked trail is a thing of beauty
