There is a particular kind of silence in a wood that has been left alone for a long time. It is not empty. It is thick and patient, full of small sounds: a wood pigeon shifting its weight, a dead branch loosening its grip, something small turning over the leaf litter. This gentle circular walk takes you through a remnant of ancient woodland, a place where oak and beech have stood for four centuries or more, and where the ground itself still shows the ridges and hollows of long-abandoned coppicing.

It is roughly four miles, takes most people two to three hours at an unhurried pace, and involves only one short climb. You will want sturdy shoes, a bit of patience, and a willingness to stand still for longer than you think you need to.

Where the Path Begins

Start at the small gravelled pull-in beside the wooden gate on the lane running north out of the village. There is room for perhaps five cars, no facilities, and no charge. The way is waymarked with round discs on posts, and the route is easy enough to follow that a map is a comfort rather than a necessity, though an Ordnance Survey sheet in a coat pocket is never wasted.

Through the gate, the track drops under a canopy of beech and immediately feels cooler. Look at the banks either side of the path: raised, uneven, often studded with ferns and moss. These are old boundary banks, some of them centuries old, and they are one of the quiet signatures of woodland that has never been ploughed or cleared. Hedgerow plants grow in the shade here, honeysuckle, dog's mercury, wood anemone, which is exactly what you would expect in a wood this old.

Before You Set Off

The paths are natural earth, and they hold water. Between November and March, expect mud, and plenty of it.

• Footwear: walking boots or well-fitting trail shoes with a proper grip. Trainers will do in a dry August but not much else.
• Layers: the wood runs several degrees cooler than the open fields, and the temperature drops sharply once the sun goes behind the ridge.
• Waterproof: a light jacket, even on a bright forecast.
• Extras: a small torch for late afternoons in autumn, a thermos, and a bag for any litter, yours or otherwise.

There are two stiles and one narrow footbridge. Dogs are welcome but should be kept close during nesting season and near the sheep field at the far end of the loop.

Spring: Bluebells and Birdsong

The bluebells usually begin in the third or fourth week of April and last about three weeks, depending on how cold the spring has been. The best displays are on the slope just after the second waymarker, where the beech canopy is thin and the light comes down in columns.

Stand still for five minutes in early May and you will hear chiffchaff, blackcap and, if you are lucky, the thin, repeated call of a nuthatch working its way up a trunk. Please keep to the path through the bluebell patches. The leaves take years to recover from being trodden, and the flowers set almost no seed in ground that has been compacted. A photograph from the edge of the path is worth more than a boot print in the middle.

Autumn: Fungi, Mast and Mud

By late September the wood changes character entirely. The beeches turn, the acorns drop, and the fungi arrive. You do not need to know their names to enjoy them, though a small field guide adds a great deal. Look for bracket fungi on standing dead wood, sulphur-yellow chicken of the woods on older oaks, and the pale domes of field mushrooms on the grassy rides.

Do not eat anything you find. Several common woodland species are seriously toxic and look convincingly harmless. Photograph them, admire them, leave them where they are. They are doing important work, breaking down dead wood and feeding the soil that feeds the trees.

This is also the season for wet leaves on stone, which is genuinely slippery. Take the descents slowly, and use the handrail on the footbridge.

Walking the Loop

From the gate, follow the main track for about half a mile until it forks. Take the right-hand branch, which climbs gently through oak and holly. This is the only real ascent, no more than sixty metres over a kilometre. At the top, the trees open into a wide ride, and the path turns left along the ridge.

Follow the ridge for roughly a mile, then drop down through the beech slope, cross the footbridge, and continue along the lower path back towards the gate. Doing the loop in this direction keeps the steep ground on the way down rather than the way up, which most people find kinder on the knees.

Quiet Corners and Cosy Stays Nearby

About two-thirds of the way round, on the lower path, there is a fallen oak trunk worn smooth by years of sitting. It is sheltered, catches the afternoon sun, and is the best place on the walk to stop for a flask. A little further on, a clearing on the left marks the site of a charcoal burner's hearth, its platform still faintly visible among the bracken.

For an overnight stay, the villages within a few miles offer the usual pleasures: a low-beamed inn with a fire and a decent menu, a couple of self-catering cottages with wood-burning stoves, and a small shepherd's hut on a farm that takes bookings by telephone. Book ahead in bluebell season and again from late October, when the wood is at its most atmospheric and the evenings draw in early.

Walk it slowly. The point of a wood like this is not the distance covered but the time spent noticing, and it rewards anyone willing to give it a whole unhurried afternoon.