Line after line of tall conifers stood to attention either side of the worn earth trail. Each passing step provided the same hypnotic effect as the planted lines revealed themselves and it seemed only the undergrowth provided the aspects of random nature around the base of the trunks and scattered the regular patterns of the shadows off the setting sun. A subtle twist in the path ahead signaled the end of the plantation area and the sight of self seeded silver birch and taller undergrowth began a gentle sprawl back to the impression of a woodland forming its way in its own time.
I followed the turn in the path and began stepping towards the edge of the wood in what was rapidly becoming twilight. Oaks lay on the western edge of the wood against the boundary with the fields, lining the dry ditch and overhanging the arable crop rustling gently in the slight breeze beyond. Propped against one of the straighter trunks of the last trees was a giant ladder formed of branches from the woodland. To the top of the ladder sturdier timbers formed a seat and backrest setting a chair among the lower canopy with a makeshift handrail to give security to those who would trouble themselves to climb the lookout.
The sight of the simple structure brought back fond memories of tree houses and the excitement of climbing in childhood years. I found it a shame that the lookout viewed over the field and not the woodland, but it was perhaps built for providing a vantage for those who cared for any livestock that may have roamed the field in past years. Within my mind I became aware of the possibility that I could well be mistaken regarding its purpose. Perhaps it could have been built for the fun of it. If something is built for the reason of an alternative perspective and enjoyment itself from such modest means as the fallen materials around the area it could indeed hold qualities way beyond the utility.