Two enormous hounds sprang down the muddied track paws thudding onto my chest, tongues lolling. The house came into sight and Ben Law’s two apprentices greeted us with the hounds’ glee reflected in their faces, after a long winter alone in the woods, company was craved. Millar and Paul had been coppicing and making charcoal for the last 6 months and the Roundwood Timber Framing Course marked the beginning of a season of building and sunshine.

The man himself was a humble figure, cap on head, no wasted words. Although as the day wore on we spied a man who loved a laugh. Dylan fresh from a land free of sarcasm made the most of the English dry wit and soon there was a mock war of words Aussie vs. Brit.

We wandered the woods, the coppice so strange to Australians use to plantations, old growth, clear felling and slash and burn. Long thin trunks sprouting from a shared stump. Whenever we paused in silence there was such a symphony of birdsong it was almost overwhelming and of course those lerches bounding in and out of sight amongstvthe blue bells.

A team of 8 we began peeling round logs, something that was immensely satisfying, almost a meditation. Off cane the bark to reveal tiger stripes of white and brown, then drawknifing them clean and smooth. It wasn’t until after I finished that I realised I had perhaps taken the smooth too literally as I inspected its rougher and faster companions. There was a bit of needing out over tools lead by the trusty Millar, he perhaps had a “I” drawknife, or was it as “H” or and “S”? The makers mark letting us know exactly who the maker was worn to oblivion.

We left the newly white logs, and lead by Millar, made the trek to the Lodsworth Larder for provisions. Up a bluebell lines stair, lush green fields that cleaned our boots and then muddy trails that dirtied them again. The Larder was a Ben Law, all roundwood and lathe. As provisions were purchased, skies darkened and  we returned to a glowing campfire.

It was Millar who started it all. James and I had been doing some whittling: I made a wobbly stick, he made a spiral and a captive ring. Inspired Millar ran into the woods and came back with a thick bent stick, “I’ve been saving this up, someone put a mushroom on the end and it will look like a cock”. So Sunny (reluctantly at first) took on.the task with Millar urgings “don’t f it up”, then Millar began on his own and as hijinks are catching even when not a drop of alcohol is involved soon Dylan was carving away as well. On seeing the skill of the others Millar admitted defeat and through his in the fire, so there we sat our first night in the woods watching a fallice crackle in the fire. The course was going to be entertaining then.