The woods are lovely, dark, and deep...

A favourite walk of mine follows a winding path from the coast road down a densely wooded valley to a secluded bay where  waves lap the shingle with  melodious rhythm.

In autumn this semi-recumbent beech tree provides a splash of colour on the way to the sea, as its tawny leaves cover the ground and drift into the stream that runs alongside. But for me this place has a sombre tinge  however bright the day. Here's why.

Some years ago I passed this way with my dog and just about where the path disappears beyond the tree I noticed a faint trail leading off to the right.  I thought it might be a badger path and was curious enough to follow it a considerable distance into the tangled undergrowth, weaving through briar patches and ducking under low branches. I was surprised to come upon a small encampment deep in the woods: a single--person tent and sort of storage area with some equipment hanging up. No sign of anybody about. I assumed the place belonged to someone who was lying low, hiding out - shades of Rogue Male.


I didn't stick around but some time later (weeks? months? I have no idea) I walked this way again and took another look. This time the equipment had gone and all that remained was the tent. It was late in the year and I assumed the camp had been deserted. I made a third visit (perhaps the following spring?) when the tent was still there but sagging and weather-beaten, clearly abandoned. My dog wasn't interested in it but I made a cautious attempt to look inside by unzipping the top a tiny bit. All I could see was a jumble of bedding. I didn't investigate further. In fact I forgot all about it.

Fast forward several years and quite by chance (I must have been searching for the name of the place for some reason) I spotted an online  newspaper report mentioning these woods and the information that, two and a half years after I had first come upon the tent, another walker, alerted by his dog, had discovered it and called the police:  human remains were visible round about.

According to the inquest report the mummified body was identified from DNA samples as that of a 46 year old man who had gone missing from his home 20 miles away in October 2010. He was described by the coroner as a loner who had worked as a jobbing gardener in his community.
 “As a young man he was a wanderer and a hippy-type person, who was very much anti-establishment. He got about on foot or by bicycle, and preferred the countryside to towns or cities. He was a reclusive person; he didn’t socialise, and didn’t go to pubs or clubs.”


The even more disturbing information was that he had deliberately starved himself to death in the tent and had left a written account of the process, as long as he was able. It was estimated it took 58 days.

So when I walk this path now I think about this man, deciding to die in a manner and a place of his choosing, in the closing months of the year. He must have been alive at the time of my first visit, perhaps the second too. His body must have been lying in its damp canvas tomb the third time I went and for another two years longer until foxes and badgers exposed what was left of it. It's probably where he would have wanted to stay and it's a little sad that what remained him of him got cremated.

 A silent salute is the least I can give as I pass this way. 

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2355855/Gardener-47-starved-death-camping-woods-kept-58-day-diary-detailing-effects-eating.html