“People don’t take trips, trips take people.” - John Steinbeck
At Upton Fields Nature Reserve, the air smells like a mixture of wet earth and wild nature. It’s Friday morning, and I’m surrounded by this sanctuary. It’s a 78-acre dreamland with marshes that whisper old secrets, pools that reflect the sky’s moods, and woods full of trees that stand guard over this Eden tucked away in a small corner of Warwickshire.
The trails here are like a winding maze, with little alcoves where you can stop, take a breath, and lose yourself in the natural world. There are rare orchids that peek shyly out of the grass, and dragonflies do aerial acrobatics over still pools. In 1972, the area was named a site of special scientific interest, but you don’t need a sign to know that it’s magical.
But as I walk down this path, with my feet crunching on the dirt carpet and my breath just visible in the cool morning air, I feel uneasy about more than just the many colours and shapes of nature. You know what that feels like? When your bones tell you that something big is about to happen, like you’re on the edge of an unseen cliff. I can’t stop thinking about the call of the wild - this strong urge to get back on the mountain tracks.
We’re almost done with this lazy weather we call summer in the UK.
With all of life’s chaos and monotony, our natural need for excitement and meaning can get lost. We read self-help books and pay for wellness channels, but we often miss the easy, powerful lessons that nature has to teach us. And what better way is there to figure out the puzzles of life than to climb a mountain?
The hills are not just piles of dirt and rocks; they are also live books. Each peak has a name, a bit of history, and obstacles that go beyond the physical. Each climb is an odyssey. A plan is starting to formulate in my head. It involves mountains and wild camping.
I look up at the sky. When was the last time I made a deal with the heavens?
I’m going to the mountains again to climb peaks and listen to what the mountains have to say. So it’s not just as an exciting quest, but also as a spiritual journey I’m about to embark on. It’s going to be a careful, slow search for the most important but intangible parts of life: meaning, purpose, and maybe a bit of poetic beauty. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll find the answers I’ve been looking for in the quiet solitude of high peaks and quiet woods.
Who else is hearing the call?
