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The endless possibilities of the imagination are something not to be forgotten in our busy day-to-day lives. Caught up in rushing from here to there, this way and that way, back and forth, in the same monotonous routine and we forget the simplicity of a wander. Whether this is a wander into your nearest park, into your favourite place or whilst sitting at your kitchen table … allow yourself to ramble purposelessly and your imagination to unwind. Let the everyday to waft into the distance and focus. Just focus. Focus on the way your toes feel in your walking boots, the way the wind weaves its way around your neck and burrows into your hair. Focus on the birdsong floating into your ears; the smell of the earth; and the overwhelming flavour of colour that pours into your eyes. Let yourself focus. Let your mind become boundless. Let your imagination wander. Last weekend I went on a wander. It was a wander into the South Downs with my boyfriend and his family. We were having a break from our usual busy university life. My mind, normally filled with the tasks of the everyday, was clear and relaxed. An escape into forested beauty was just what we needed. Despite puddles under our feet, the air was refreshingly crisp, and the sun had managed to break out through the clouds. Water droplets fluttered and danced with light. Our feet sank gently into dough-like ground as we ambled our way around splurges of water. Following the trail, we were soon by one of the loveliest of things: new-born lambs, some only an hour or so old. Their mothers had large marble eyes, staring suspiciously at us and standing protectively over their babies, whilst the lambs teetered on wobbling legs and occasionally bleated nervously. Without hesitation or discussion, we watched them for a while, encapsulated by their pure simplicity. Continuing our wander down the gentle slope of the field, we passed by an old thick oak tree, reminding me of Enid Blyton’s Magic Faraway Tree. Just like the children in Blyton’s story, I wondered what unknown was to come, what were we going to be thrown into today? Within minutes we were enveloped in bright colours of green and yellow. The forest floor had become a billowing sea of daffodils. Swamping and knitting its way into the crevasses of my mind, an omnipresence of colour and vast array of light began to cultivate the imagination. My mind became an unregulated, unmappable locale of freedom and a venue for boundless possibilities. Instead of catching up on each other’s busy lives we found ourselves feeling dampness of fairy blankets, leaning against tall swaying silver birches as if they were the masts of long-forgotten pirate ships, and examining the age rings of battered fallen trees. “We’re about to be in Narnia”, the others said. And so we were. Our path was now leading us through trees contorted in all shapes and forms. The trunks dripped with water whilst moss coiled and laced around nearly all branches. Curving, looping and buckling, the lean trunks looked alive, almost menacing. Yet shadows were dispersed by bright beams of light making damp, green moss bright, and the previously slimy tree trunks shimmer. Out of Narnia and back into full sunlight we slipped and skidded down a mud slide before leaping across the riverbank. A small beach had formed on the other side, the water meandering idly around it. My boyfriend and I tramped across the wild riverbank, mindfully side-stepping scarlet cupped fungi and warily eyeing an algal-dense pond alongside the stream. Ferns clung to trees overhanging the river, prompting thoughts of New Zealand – my dad’s home country. I recall tales of kiwi bush walkers tramping though forests in the moonlight. They would use the underside of silver ferns to reflect light, allowing them to navigate their way home even in darkness. I guess that’s just what we’d done. Our usual chaotic every day had been silenced on our short wander and amidst the infinite depths of our imagination we’d discovered a little piece of home.