When thinking about the latest and hopefully final lockdown, I have a list of negative impacts the restrictions have had on my life. Yet, one positive has been to realise I have a whole world of nature I've overlooked before now right on my doorstep.
Bridgewater Copse is a small strip of woods, which is so small it sometimes isn't shown on maps. The copse is approximately 800 metres in length and is sandwiched between a canal and a motorway (M53).
For years I've overlooked it opting to travel further afield to get my ' nature fixes'.

The path through it has been only a means of getting from A to B.
When the latest lockdown was introduced, it triggered another loss of my running mojo and as my waistline advanced in the radius at an unprecedented rate I knew I needed something to keep me going out.
I had always enjoyed taking photos even before I got into running. When I started trail running, I thought it would be a good idea to capture where I'd been to help motivate me to return. It's always worked, yet the spirit of the lockdown rules meant, for me, the trails were a long way off.
So, having lost my running mojo and having no real desire to run on the roads I decided I'd blow the dust off some old camera kit and start a project of photographing this local copse during the lockdown.
The plan was to create a dedicated album and document everything that caught my eye. Simples.
Now, if anyone has tried taking photos of woodland scenes, you'll know that all the branches and undergrowth can create what's called a noisy scene. Add in the fact it's winter and I wasn't holding out much in the way of photos.
Looking back at the photos which didn't make the album, it took just over a week to work out the secret...I needed to slow down and look.
It became quite clear there were no grand vistas. Instead of grand vistas, I needed to look for the macro vistas.
By definition, a macro photo is one where the subject is observed at a 1:1 ratio. Having decided not to take a tripod with me on my daily walks through the copse I was going to have to learn how far I could push the magic triangle of shutter speed v aperture v ISO (can't recall what that stands for).
So as close to daily as possible I'd walk the path through the copse seeking things to photograph. What could be wrong with that?
It would seem this was unnormal. I make this decision based on the number of people I nearly caused to walk the canal towpath situated on the other side of the canal from the wood. They spent more time ogling what I was doing rather than where they should be stepping. I got over it. I hope the chap who caught his head on a hawthorn tree did!
So, as I write this the current stay-at-home rule has been lifted and we're allowed further afield for our exercise. Looking back at both the photos that made or didn't make it into my album, I can see how the project has improved my composition skills. That's good, but it's not the best thing. That would be my relationship with this small wood.
I've got to know trees watched with awe as they prepared for winter, mourned when a storm has broken its branches or even worse, uprooted it entirely. Finally, I've celebrated when buds have sprung forth.
I've discovered flowers and bugs previously only viewed in books.
All this on my doorstep.
I've learned so much, and I think I have shown other people what is right under our feet when we slow down and look.
So as lockdown starts to end will this project? Yes. Only because it was time-bound on the lockdown, but I'll continue to visit the woods as often to continue my learning and exploring. I can only apologise in advance to anyone who falls in the canal whilst trying to fathom what I'm doing wandering through the trees with my camera, (and tripod), in hand.
If you're interested. The album can be found here.