On a recent trip to England, I returned to one of my most beloved places: The Edge, an ancient woodland in Alderley Edge, Cheshire. No visit home feels complete without walking here, a sandstone escarpment that rises above the surrounding landscape and can be seen for miles. It's a prehistoric place, with a history of copper and gold mining dating back to the Bronze Age. From the plane window as I descend into Manchester, I constantly scan the green patchwork for it. My heart beats a little faster when I spot it.
I grew up walking these woods. Whenever relatives visited—often on Sundays—we'd take to the soft trails under a canopy of sprawling broadleaf trees, treading over moss-covered roots and ducking into the cool, dank caves (now fenced off), while the roast cooked at home. Once part of a vast oak forest, these woods are home to a diverse array of trees, including oak, beech, birch, holly, hazel, wild cherry, rowan, and Scots Pine, whose foliage clusters around the tops of their towering trunks like umbrellas.
Winding trails through the woods lead to dramatic red sandstone ledges that drop 100 meters below—small fry compared to real mountains, perhaps, but pronounced nonetheless. From there, the path continues into the valley, toward grassy glades and winding country lanes. The view from the ledge stretches for miles across the northeast Cheshire plain toward the Derbyshire hills. It's a haven for hikers, dog walkers, and day trippers.
As a girl, I climbed these trees (and once pulled a muscle so badly I couldn't walk for days). As a teenager, I wandered the woods at night with giggling friends, tipsy and daring, scaring ourselves silly as we tried to find our way back out. I've walked its paths many times with my father. It was also a popular foraging spot for magic mushrooms—though I missed out on that one.
The day after my father's passing, it was the only place I wanted to be. I followed a quiet trail through cow-grazing fields, down into the shaded valley, and lay on a sun-warmed rock, gazing up at the crowns of the trees, watching patches of blue sky flicker through the filtered light. There was no sound—only the rustle of leaves, the woodland birds singing and flitting, and the whispering breeze. Inhaling deeply and meditating in that stillness brought me an absolute sense of comfort. I scattered some of my father's ashes here, a place dear to both of us. One day, I hope half of mine will rest here too.
There's something undeniably magical and mysterious about these woods. The Edge is steeped in folklore. Passed down through generations, one enduring legend tells of a white-bearded wizard who lived in a hidden cave beneath the hill, guarding a band of sleeping knights and their white horses. Some say that the wizard was Merlin himself, and the knights—connected to King Arthur—were ready to rise and defend the land when needed. There’s a pub near the car park called The Wizard, and over time, Merlin and his magic have become synonymous with the area and the town itself.
This legend inspired Alan Garner's The Weirdstone of Brisingamen, a prize-winning author of children's fantasy novels. Set across The Edge, it follows two children who encounter a wizard in search of a powerful stone. He takes them deep into the caves where they have to fight off the forces of evil. It's a children's book, but one equally loved by adults. It's time for a re-read.
Beyond wizards, The Edge also holds tales of witches and devils. There's a witches' circle of stones, buried beneath moss and leaves, if you know where to look.
On this recent visit, I stumbled upon a new trail so breathtaking I couldn't believe I'd never walked it before—but then realized it was the same one I'd walked after the day my father died, now approached from the opposite direction. Called Waterfall Wood, it's part of the Woodland Valley Walk. I followed the newly refurbished trail, the air thick with the smell of rain and lime-green ferns, filtered light, and a symphony of cheerful birdsong. I crossed a trickling stream and arrived at a hidden waterfall. I felt enchanted. I just wish my dog Isla could have been with me.
Woods like these, alive with legend, carry an energy of their own. They make for some mighty fine woods. You can feel a palpable energy, an eerie sense of calm, as though the trees are chaperoning you and watching your every turn. Perhaps they are. The fact that they live on a different timescale than us, for hundreds, if not thousands, of years, makes them silent witnesses to history, our history, forever present in the interconnectedness of all living things.
According to The Hidden Life of Trees, by German forester Peter Wohlleben, trees can communicate with each other through scent and even share resources. Like humans, they are social creatures that rely on their community.
He writes about the "wood wide web" (a phrase coined by Canadian forest ecologist, Dr. Suzanne Simard in 1997)—a fungal network that allows trees to share information and nutrients. "Tree roots extend more than twice the spread of their crown," he says, meaning neighboring trees are literally intertwined. They warn each other of drought, insects, and even danger.
We think of forests as still. But they are humming with connection. Fascinating stuff—and more to come.
All in all, our woods and forests are magical places.
Next time I'm in England, I hope to walk the Lost Gardens of Heligan in Cornwall, featuring 200-year-old trails and natural-looking sculptures rising from the woodland floor. A place where you could almost believe in fairies and goblins.
Wherever you are, I hope you take time to slow down, breathe, soak in the beauty, and enjoy the woods near you.
Until then, I'll keep walking and listening for what the trees might whisper next.
Have you ever walked in woods that feel enchanted?
What places call you back again and again?
I’d love to hear.
Let me know in the comments—or forward this to someone who could use a little magic.
With love and light,
Gilly
Be kind to yourself and stay heart wise!
Redwood forest girl here. Sorrel. Moss. Ostrich and five-fingered ferns. Stump hideaways. Huckleberry bushes. Cool, wet air. Sun dappled shadow. Reminds me of my own childhood thousands of miles away. We are wealthy in our play and access to ancient forest. : )