Sounding Out The Wild at Heart

The word 'wild' is used in such a negative way these days; 'he went wild', 'she is just a wild child', and many others. Surrounded by 24 hour everything, neon flashing 'buy me' messages and the insulated bubbles called cars, it is very easy to see the disconnect between modern life and anything resembling 'wild'.  I would go so far as to say we are even discouraged from understanding and enjoying 'wildness'.  Wildness doesn't make money. Wildness is free.  Wildness doesn't belong to anyone except itself.  Therefore, wildness needs to be contained, tamed, paved over, or killed off in our modern world.  

It isn't possible for everyone to have access to wilderness.  Indeed if we did I guess it wouldn't be wilderness for very long.  However everybody has access to 'wild' if they want to; even on a small scale.  Most of our 'wild' in Cornwall is focused on the sea, but I'm delighted to have badgers visit our garden nightly and I enjoy taking the time to watch the birds that visit our garden too.  Likewise we enjoy foraging for wild food and every walk along hedgerows, through woodland, moorland or coastline is an education in wild.  It's all there if you want to appreciate it.  

Rewilding is a step further, or in a positive way perhaps it should be called a step back. Rewilding looks towards bringing back wild animals that were driven to extinction within certain places by humans.  The last wolf in Britain was killed in the 17th Century (15th Century in England), and the last bear reputedly over a 1000 years ago.  As far as humans are concerned, humans reign supreme in the UK food chain.  In my eyes that is a real shame.  A reality check could be just the thing that is needed for us humans.  To have something around you (apart from other stupid humans) that could kill you beyond the likes of excess, cancer and heart disease is actually a real thrill I think.

Take the experience that Phil and I had last year in Portugal.  We were parked up in the middle of nowhere in Miles the Camper van.  An after dinner, and after dark, brush of our teeth took us for a little stroll along a dusty track, like you do. The track was narrow with dense, spiky and sweet smelling herbs on either side (beats the usual indoor bathroom for such activities as brushing your teeth!).  As we brushed away we listened to the only sound, which was the distant sound of waves.  That was until we were stopped abruptly in our tracks by a sudden burst of loud noise from the bushes.  We had disturbed something big and it ran a short distance away and into the undergrowth.  We had no idea what it was and in shock remained frozen to the spot, toothbrushes in mouths.  Then a deep guttural grunt/growl filled the air followed by the sound of the, as yet undetermined, large creature now advancing back towards us.  The sound was enough to have us backing off and the fact that it was now coming towards us, even more so.  We jogged back to Miles as fast as our flip flops would allow; our teeth brushing completed safely inside the van.  Our conclusion had been it had to have been a wild boar; and a big one at that.

It had never occurred to me there were wild boar there and that is my point.  We are just so unused to such encounters that we forget they could even exist.  You might get your flipper nipped in the sea by a seal, you might get dive bombed by a seagull once in a while and once it looked like the badger was making for me at our front door (but once its smell got the better of its poor eyesight it realised I was there!) but that's it really these days.  I do remember being caught up a big oak tree as a kid for a couple of hours when a big White Hart decided to sit at the bottom of it, and Phil and I had interesting experiences with wild elephants whilst being driven through a national forest in Sri Lanka by a stoned tuk-tuk driver, but that was either years ago, not in this country, or a completely different story!  To recently encounter an actual wild creature like the boar in Portugal that could harm you was an absolute thrill.  I loved it because it put us in our place and let's face it humans have become way too big for our boots. 

This past week we had a few days off and so headed off in Miles.  We had no definite plan but I was relatively keen to explore the Forest of Dean.  I wanted to see the wild boar there that had returned in recent years after an absence of over 700 years.  Although strictly feral escapees they are the closest and probably the most fearsome wild creatures here in the UK now.  Having 'audibly' experienced the boar in that dark night in Portugal, I wanted to see one for myself.  

Our first night in the forest showed promise.  A couple, who had been walking in the forest near to where we had parked up for the night, had come running back to the car park.  They had seen a boar and retreated fast. They left soon after and Phil and I ventured gingerly on the edge of the forest to see what we could see. It was dark by now.  Suddenly Portugal repeated itself (although this time without the teeth brushing) as a grunt emanated from the dark bushes.  We retreated as before; put in our place once more and utterly thrilled by that.  With that I told Phil that I wasn't leaving the Forest of Dean until I had actually seen, not just heard, one of these magnificent creatures.

The next day I got my wish.  Parked up in a car park just after a wonderful forest foraging walk, a very obviously male boar regally trotted up and started foraging behind our van.  I was transfixed.  It looked up once to let us know it was perfectly aware we were in awe, before trotting off at a speed that seemed relaxed but made us realise that, flip flops or not, running away that night in Portugal wouldn't have been an option had it decided to have been more grumpy than it was.  It might have been in a car park and by no means 'wilderness' but it was wild and magic regardless.  I upped my ante and told Phil I now wasn't leaving until I'd seen a sounder (the word apparently I learnt afterwards for a group) of boars.  

The next day unbelievably I again got my wish as we encountered two adults and at least five youngsters.  The look one of the adults gave us again was, in Phil's words 'not messing around'.  This might not be the bears or moose that my sister encounters on her running routes at home in Alaska but this was my 'wild' and I loved every minute of it. This experience will not belittle in anyway my everyday experiences at home in Cornwall.  I will still be thrilled to see our bungling badger, the whirling squabble of birds in our garden, the majestic white glide of the seagulls, the bobbing heads of seals and the 'cheow' of the choughs on the headland, but I won't forget that glare of the boar and the thrill of being well and truly put in our place by 'the wild'.  

Weirdly enough, Phil mentioned when I started writing this post that he was currently reading a book entitled Wild by Jay Griffiths, and was enjoying it greatly. Apparently it has a lot of parallels with what I have touched on in this post, so I am eager to read this book for myself now.  On another coincidental note, we saw the road sign in the photograph at the top on our recent trip to the Forest of Dean!  It seems our trip was destined to be 'wild'!