Walking along an old country lane you stop to hear a bird call, and wait to hear it again. You notice the high banks on either side, as you wait, and wonder, how many before you must have trod this path for it to have sunk so into a holloway. The path is wide enough to have taken a carriage but not a mechanised farm vehicle. The banks have grown inward through vegetation and now an earthen layer. Often, I re-live the experience of others where a very long walk is undertaken, one with purpose and possibly commercial, that requires the bedding down for the night under a tree or on a soft bank, Deakin and Macfarlane mention this and used to wild camp regularly together. Clare also, with Sinclair and Petit in his wake. Clare tended to knock on doors to sleep in barns and ask for scraps to eat. Some forage, building up a meal throughout the day's walk and settle down perhaps next to a small fire. In times past such journeys that required a stay under the stars would be out of necessity, now our lives are such that this would be choice. Or, one would think so.
Working and journeying along river banks occasionally I come across camps, tents etc of people that actually live in the woods. It is possible that we are coming full circle and that there is a new breed of transient communties travelling and living off the land. Finding the old paths and ways around, out of necessity. How many camps have you stumbled across while out walking?