These photos were taken in the woods at the end of the village that I grew up in, in Somerset. They're a very special place; I used to walk almost everyday in the wood with my parents and the dog (not the dog in the photo - he's far too young!) For my degree dissertation, I wrote a collection of poetry about the wood, and I just wanted to share some of its secrets on here too.
This handsome canine is my parents' dog, Gussie. He's a nine-year-old lurcher-collie cross, but he still acts like a puppy, and he's really clumsy. He's also the most good-natured dog I've ever met. And he can't do the same thing with both ears - one sticks up and one falls to the side, all the time.
This round stone structure covered in moss and ivy through the trees here is called a Buddle House. I believe it used to be used in the production of lime from limestone, but I'm not exactly sure how or when this was. When I was younger it always felt really dangerous walking around the top because it was stony and uneven and it felt like a long way to fall. The doorway was never a problem for us when I was a child, but now I realise how small it is - I have to duck and I'm only 5'3".
There's something sad about seeing these branches piled on the floor and still green, but actually there's been a lot of felling and clearing in the last year or two and you can see the benefit of it. New plants are starting to grow where the trees would have shaded them too much from the sun, and the trees that are left have space to grow and flourish.
Song of the day: 'It Could Be Sweet' - Portishead