So much to see and enjoy on a gentle stroll through the woods

You might not wish to learn anything, however; your desire may be only to commune with nature without bothering to study or identify the host of attractions around you.

Walking in a pine forest is not quite the same. For all the quiet charm and clean-scented atmosphere of conifers, their woodlands do not contain the same wealth of interest, for it is within our numerous deciduous greenwoods that nature is truly alive and at its most abundant.

At this time of year, nature is highly active, busily working for the survival of individual species. There are trees, flowers, birds, insects and animals and, if you know a woodland with a river or stream flowing through it, or even boasting a pond, there will also be the bonus of water life.

A few days before writing these notes, my wife and I took such a walk. It was a Sunday afternoon in late spring, the day was fine and dry, if a little on the cool side, and we wanted to attempt nothing more demanding than a couple of hours gentle exploration of a local woodland. We knew it would be interesting and enjoyable as the trees were freshly in leaf, with many boasting highly-scented blossom. There would also be many varieties of wild flower and among the birds I would expect to see or hear would be some of this year's summer visitors, in addition to lots of natives.

It is perhaps a statement of the obvious that, in an English woodland, the trees are of prime importance, but at times it is easy to wander among them without appreciating or identifying them.

In our case there were the expected trees - oak, beech, ash, elm, lime, sycamore, hawthorn and others which are common - but some I could not identify.

There was also a scattering of conifers, but we did spot some interesting specimens, all of which provided a protective canopy. One was a splendid crab apple tree, rich with new blossom. The tree was positively dripping with flowers and would have looked quite at home in a park or garden. It is this tree which produces such bitter, almost inedible apples, even if they look so tempting when ripe, but we must remember that the crab apple is the ancestor of popular cultivated species such as Cox's Orange Pippin, Beauty of Bath and Bramley's Seedling. The name crab, by the way, comes from the old Norse skrab, which means scrubby - the tree can often be found in very wild and rough places.

Another tree puzzled me for a while. It was smaller than those around it with long, rather leathery, serrated leaves on slender twigs. On many of those twigs were spikes of almond-scented small, white flowers, not quite so thickly packed as lilac flowers, but with close similarities. The bark provided a clue, however. It was smooth, with the distinctive appearance of a cherry tree.

At home, a quick check in my reference books confirmed it was a bird cherry which, in the autumn, produces small, rather bitter, black fruit loved by hungry birds. Even if humans can't eat those little cherries, they once made good use of the bark, which was infused to produce a tonic and sedative for upset stomachs.

The floor of our woodland was amazing, for it was a dense carpet of flowers and other growths such as ferns and moss. We arrived as the wood's famous bluebells were fading, but were quite surprised to find some Spanish bluebells among them. These are threatening our own wild species because they are stronger and less easily damaged.

There were primroses, celandines and wood anemones galore, but by far the most prevalent was a dense carpet of ramsons. Their onion-like scent was almost over-powering, for this rather pretty white flower emits a strong hint of garlic. Not surprisingly, it is often known as wild garlic, but it is not popular with dairy farmers because if cows eat it, the scent will be transferred to their milk. The plant is very widespread in our coniferous woodlands, where it seems to prefer shady areas, but it is not considered as good as cultivated garlic. Nonetheless, its leaves were once chopped to flavour sauces and dishes.

Bird and animal life was all around us in that wood - we spotted some deer hoof-prints and a tiny woodmouse darting along his run (an unusual sight in the daylight) - and we also saw evidence of nature in the raw.

It was the remains of a pheasant which had doubtless become the victim of a fox, but a puzzle confronted us. As we entered the wood, we found a broken egg shell near the footpath. It was a partridge egg, easily identifiable through its plain olive-brown colour, but I did not know whether it had been attacked or whether it had produced a chick. A few hundred yards further on, we found a second partridge egg, and even further we came across another, all broken. It was almost as if something was laying a mystery trail of egg shells for us to follow. Woods are such fascinating places.

Tomorrow, June 11, used to be called Barnaby Day and, before the calendar changes of 1752, it was the longest day of the year. More formally known as the Feast Day of St Barnabas, it was, by tradition, the time to start the hay harvest.

Country people would say: "At Barnabas, put the scythe to the grass" and another old verse said: "Barnaby bright, Barnaby bright, longest day and shortest night."

From that old verse, the day was sometimes known as Barnaby Bright and in many parts of England it was the time to hold fairs. Barnaby Fairs were common around the country, often with Barnaby tarts being eaten as a treat among other forms of celebration like drinking, music and dancing. In some ways, it was a celebration of the hay harvest, even if it was not always held on St Barnabas Day.

At Boroughbridge, the annual horse fair was held on the Tuesday nearest St Barnabas Day, although the calendar changes resulted in an alteration of that fair to a later date, the Tuesday nearest to June 22. Those fairs are commemorated in a Boroughbridge street known as Horsefair.

Another famous horse fair takes place this week at Appleby-in-Westmoreland. Appleby Fair dates to 1685 when James II granted the right to hold it in the town.

It is said to be the oldest and most important gathering of travellers in England where horses are still bought and sold, often in the age-old manner of bartering.

Travellers from throughout the UK converge on Fair Hill to celebrate their history, music and folklore, although I am not sure whether this fair has any links with others which occur on Barnaby Day.

With reference to horses, I have come across a superstition which once said that it was lucky to come across a white horse, while in other areas of the country, this was regarded as a sign of bad fortune. Until I discovered this reference, I had never heard of this old belief in any of its forms.

Perhaps more common was the supposition that a horse with four white feet was regarded as unlucky, while a single white foot represented good fortune. In some parts of the country, that superstition was not restricted to horses - any animal with one white foot was regarded as lucky, although in some districts it was said the animal should really have one white sock at the front and another at the rear if true good luck was to be achieved.

People who thought the sight of a white horse was unlucky would try to avoid any misfortune by spitting on the ground when they saw one, or they would make the sign of the cross on the ground with their foot. Another simple way to avoid ill fortune in such cases was to cross the fingers and keep them crossed until a dog was seen!

Piebald horses were generally regarded as lucky, with some parents believing a child could be cured of whooping cough if a piebald horse breathed on him or her, or even if he or she rode on its back. In some parts of England, it was thought beneficial to one's health if a horse breathed on one, and a bank recently caused a stir in its television adverts by suggesting it was lucky if a horse was led through the house, but it seems one should never get a pregnant mare to lead a corpse to the grave.