Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.
While browsing on my computer this morning, I clicked through to the Nextdoor website where I saw a photograph posted by Dean Stevens in my local Dorchester group. It was a beautiful photograph, atmospheric and uplifting, and it shared the title of this piece.
Immediately, I was transported to that path, looking up the slight hill towards the gate, the trees and bushes on either side making my walk feel not just secluded, but as though I was being embraced by nature. I could feel myself being cuddled by the space, while the wide open sky above welcomed me into the morning.
I could see my two little Dachshunds pootling along beside me; Willow like a tiny, sleek gazelle, bouncing and leaping along the path. Her tan markings richly red against the coal black jet of her coat, her ears flying. Far less energetic is Bear, much more sedate and using his nose to investigate every leaf and blade of grass for other animals; a wood mouse, nesting birds, and perhaps even a fox or badger. Making his presence felt, he cocks his leg frequently, making his own claim to the great outdoors.

Image credit: Dean Stevens, Nextdoor. https://nextdoor.co.uk/pages/dorchester-alterations-poundburydorchester-england/
Underfoot, I can feel the slick, silky mud shifting, betraying both the recent weather and the fact that in spite of appearances, I’m not alone in my investigations of this secret walkway – other intrepid travellers have trodden this same path, so not ‘the road not taken’. Like a staircase in front of me, shallow steps are clearly visible, calling us onwards and upwards towards the gate, our goal and focal point. It offers us promises of wide open spaces and gives us a sense of the distance and freedom beyond.
Walking slowly, carefully, so as to appreciate everything on offer, the grey clouds scudding along overhead, I listen to the hum of silence broken only by the sounds of soft, velvet paws and woodland birds. A spotted woodpecker thrums somewhere off in the distance, tapping out his sharp ‘kek kak’ against a tree, and the low-pitched song of a wood pigeon, much closer, her repetitive call soothing, reminding us that we’re never alone. There’s a slight rustle in the branches of the trees overhead and on either side of us as the wind, nonexistent down here on the path, rattles and shakes the barren limbs like wild hands, groping for something intangible and always just out of reach.
In the grass, still green, there are tiny telltale signs of footprints; a deer, lean and long-legged, his chestnut coat and creamy underside melting him perfectly into the landscape. Or a hedgehog, his black, pliable, button nose shifting ceaselessly as his strong little legs take him forward, snuffling out earthworms and brilliant beetles during the hours of darkness.
Above us, the sun streaks the sky pale pink with highlights of watery gold that lurk behind the clouds, just creeping out to create a softer glow at their outer edges, contrasting the pale, blue-grey smoke of the wintery sky.
In no rush, together we reach the wooden gate, its chunky frame turned smooth like silk underhand and the wood turned a soft, silvery grey with its exposure to the elements. Lifting the latch, it moves easily, swinging forward on its giant pins, inviting us through. I’m careful, having got both sausages beyond the gate, to close it, flipping over the latch and checking it’s secure behind us.
In my fantasy walk, I’m not impeded by the pain in my hip, I don’t waddle like a penguin, nor do I need to sit every five minutes. On the contrary, I am free; like the wide open expanse of countryside which beckons we three beyond the gate. I feel nothing except the joyful lift of being outside, being accompanied by my two furry companions, and appreciating the simple pleasure of just walking – something which, I confess, I miss terribly.
Still, there’s no sadness here. A simple photograph has transported us to days gone by when I could enjoy the freedom of the countryside, instead of taking myself to the cricket field where I must move from bench to bench. That said, I‘m lucky. I’m still outside, still feeling the warmth of the sun on my face, still enjoying the sight of small dogs racing across the grass at top speed, shouting loudly, and still finding enormous pleasure in the simple act of just being.
And on that note, thank you Mr Stevens. Thank you for taking us on our imaginary walk today, for reminding me that freedom is not confined to physicality and that pleasure may be found not just in being there, but also in the journey, even if it’s only in your head.
Are you feeling creative? We are proud to have a hugely talented community on Rest Less, which is why we’re so excited to open up a section of the site dedicated to showcasing the wonderful and diverse writing of our members. If you have a piece of creative writing that you’d like to share with the Rest Less community – you can do so here.