O Blakeney, Blakeney, wherefore art thou Blakeney?

Eileen Hennemann

If I were Blakeney, my answer to that is – I’m not telling!

The park in Blakeney is carpeted with pine needles, covered in leafy umbrellas and laced with babbling streams and rushing rapids. The air feels ancient and mysterious. When we’re there it feels like the woods are ours.

The trails are easy and short, the picnic spots cozy and welcoming. We enjoy sketching and painting plein air in the park, and climbing around the rocks when the water is low in the summer. In any season we meander through the woods in silence. There’s a feeling of deep reverence for the ghosts of those who passed this way before. This is one charming, historical walk in the woods that for the longest time escaped most people’s notice.

And then The Pandemic arrived, and so did the flood of new nature lovers. “Our” Blakeney is now everyone’s Blakeney. If there is a way to make it a secret again, let us  know!

Well, I suppose everyone should be able to enjoy and respect the beauty nature offers. And I suppose I’m being selfish saying I’d prefer they do that when I’m not there. I wonder how many people feel that way?

This will be another busy summer for nature trails and waterways. And even though the secret is out, once again we thank our lucky stars that we have a little piece of paradise so close by.

eileenhennemann.com  | thetencollective.com