About the forest

The forest, my forest, is the Forêt de Soignes on the outskirts of Brussels. Forest may seem a grand word for a largish area of managed woodland, but though it is smaller than nearby grander forests in the Ardennes, it is certainly much bigger than most woods in England and as such worthy of the title “forest”.
When at home in Brussels, I go into the forest at least twice a week. We live close to the Bois de la Cambre, which is actually the part of the forest that advances into the city and was tamed into parkland in the 19th century. The forest proper starts straight after it, so it takes me less than 15 minutes to get into it on my bike. If it’s for a walk, the nearest convenient entry point at the Enfants Noyés is only ten minutes by car.
The forest is criss-crossed by a network of drives, ways and paths - "drèves, chemins, sentiers". My favourite word is "drève" borrowed from the Flemish, literally a drive, a straight track driven through the forest and therefore tree-lined (the most spectacular is the very long and grand avenue of beeches in the arboretum). The "chemins" are more winding. I have a copy of an 18th century map and most of them are on it already. These days signs tell visitors which tracks can be used by walkers, cyclists and horse-riders and while most are shared, some are dedicated, giving each community an opportunity to do its own thing unimpeded by the others. Recently the infrastructure has become very well maintained and regularly repaired. The advantage of woodland as a recreational area is that the trees hide the people, so unlike wide open spaces such as beaches which can soon appear to be busy, you frequently have the impression you have the place to yourself. Some days, like today, midweek on a cold grey January day, you actually do pretty well have it to yourself, which is remarkable at half an hour’s cycling from home in the city.
The forest is predominantly beech, interspersed with oak and birch, and with pockets of pine, fir and larch. The beeches are tall and slender, so they let through plenty of light. The forest is not a dark and dank place. The subsoil is very hard which suits the beech as it has a shallow root system - and for that reason is prone to blowing over in a gale (there are always wind-blown trees waiting for foresters to remove them - is that what a back-log is?). There is not much undergrowth, though some areas have been heavily colonized by brambles. It’s quite easy when you’re walking to strike off the path and really be in the heart of the forest, feeling and hearing the dead leaves underfoot. This is when you’re most likely to spot a deer. There are not many, they tend to be in groups of two to six but they soon get wind of you and scamper off, their white rears bobbing up and down until out of sight. You may find them in more or less the same place for several weeks in a row and then not see them for months. Otherwise, if you’re looking for wildlife you’ll have to settle for squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, mice and lots of birds, including some fine smaller birds of prey and owls.
There are a few small lakes in the forest and little clearings which make splendid spots for a picnic in the summer.
At the start of the autumn, we used to pick mushrooms in the forest, but that is not allowed anymore, so we have to go to the bigger and wilder forests of the Ardennes. Blackberries are still fair game though.
The forest is of course temperate and loses its leaves in winter. We hear a lot these days about the tropical rainforest, but there is actually more temperate forest in the world, which is not surprising if you look at the distribution of land mass on a globe. The temperate forest is perhaps even more important to us then as the lungs of the planet. The Forêt de Soignes is the lungs of Brussels. It’s the best place to go here for fresh air. Fortunately the temperate forest tends to be less under threat than the tropical, and actually growing in surface area. The Forêt de Soignes has certainly been managed sustainably for centuries. Sometimes you see the foresters marking out the trees to be felled and occasionally witness the earth shaking crash of one of the big old beeches coming down. They are incredibly tall, you don’t really appreciate it till you find one lying down and walk balancing along the trunk.
In the winter especially you see the skeleton of the forest and the dominant dimension is the vertical: the trunks form countless vertical lines drawing you eyes upwards again and again, literally uplifting. If there is a creator, you feel his presence. The columns of Greek temples started as stylised trees, crenelated for the bark, and with geometric foliage at the top. In the middle ages the cathedral architects, inventors of the gothic arch and vaults, added branches to the stone trunks. In the modern age, the cathedral representation of the forest is completed with even stone leaves in the vaulting of the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, still under construction. Or you can just settle for the natural version in the forest. “La Nature est un temple où de vivants piliers...” (Baudelaire).
There is after all something quite wonderful about trees: their elegant proportions; their exuberant putting forth of new growth in the spring, their lush greenery in the summer, their bright colours in the autumn, their fine tracery in the winter.; their size; their age. In the National Parks of the Western US, I was more moved by the majestic vastness of the sequoias than that of the canyons.
One of the best things about going regularly into the forest is that you notice the passing of the seasons, far more than in the city. The forest is beautiful in all seasons (and all weathers) and always has someting to offer.
The forest is where I recharge my batteries. The physical exercise of pedaling my bike or walking can overcome initial weariness and introduce new energy. Yet it is more than that - the fresh air, the calm, the presence of nature, the wonder of the seasons, all nourish the soul
“Und frische Nahrung, neues Blut
Saug ich aus freier Welt...” (Goethe)