Bushy Park

Listen for a moment. Under the wind in the grass you may hear a low, rough bark carrying across the open ground. That is a deer, and it is not in an enclosure. Here in Bushy Park, red deer and fallow deer move freely across wide grassland. The ground underfoot is soft and uneven, and the sky feels unusually large for a city of millions. You are standing in one of London's Royal Parks. It is the second largest of them, after its neighbour Richmond Park.

The story of this land is closely tied to the palace just to the south. Hampton Court was first the home of Cardinal Wolsey, and then of King Henry the Eighth. Henry loved to hunt. In the sixteenth century, the land around the palace was enclosed so that deer could be kept and chased. Bushy Park comes from that world of royal sport. The deer you see today are the descendants of a long tradition of keeping herds on this ground.

The land is older than the hunting parks. Look closely at the grass in low evening light, and you may see long, gentle ripples running across some fields. These are traces of ridge and furrow — the pattern left by medieval ploughing, long before kings claimed this land. Farmers once worked these strips with oxen. The park keeps a record of that farming in the shape of the earth itself. Few visitors notice it, but once you see it, the ripples are hard to miss.

Now turn your attention to the great avenue. Chestnut Avenue runs for roughly a mile, straight as a ruler, lined with horse chestnut trees and lime trees. It was laid out at the end of the seventeenth century for King William the Third. The design is linked to Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of Saint Paul's Cathedral. Wren was rebuilding parts of Hampton Court at the time. The avenue was planned as a grand approach to the palace from the north.

That grand approach was never fully realised. The plans for a magnificent new northern entrance to the palace were scaled back. So the avenue leads you on with great ceremony, but the arrival is quieter than its builders intended. It is a little like a speech prepared for a king who left the room early. Still, the sense of scale remains. Stand in the middle and look along the lines of trees, and you feel the order and ambition of that age.

In spring, the avenue changes completely. In May, the horse chestnuts carry upright candles of white and pink blossom. In the Victorian era, Londoners came out in great crowds to see them, on a day that became known as Chestnut Sunday. The custom faded over the years and was later revived. Today, the blossom still draws families and walkers. If you are here in late spring, the whole avenue seems to glow.

Part of the way along the avenue, a circular pond opens out around a bronze figure on a tall stone base. This is the Diana Fountain. The goddess of hunting suits a park made for hunting. Here is a surprise: the statue did not begin here. It was first made in the seventeenth century for a royal garden in central London, for the queen of King Charles the First. It was moved to Bushy Park in the early eighteenth century. Many people believe the figure is actually Arethusa, a water nymph, rather than Diana.

Water is a quiet theme across the whole park. The streams and ponds here are not all natural. In the seventeenth century, under King Charles the First, workers dug a long artificial channel to bring water across the countryside to Hampton Court. It is called the Longford River. It still runs through the park today. As you cross its little bridges, remember that this calm stream was built by hand for the fountains and gardens of a king.

Away from the open grass, the park becomes more private. The Woodland Gardens are fenced to keep the deer out, so flowers and young plants can grow. Inside, paths wind between ponds, tall trees and shrubs such as rhododendrons and azaleas. The light here is softer and greener. Elsewhere in the park, the Water Gardens near Upper Lodge contain cascades and ponds from the early eighteenth century. They were restored in recent years after a long period of neglect.

Here is the second surprise, and it comes from the twentieth century. During the Second World War, part of this peaceful park became an American military base, known as Camp Griffiss. General Dwight Eisenhower used it as a headquarters for the Allied forces. Planning for the D-Day landings in Normandy took place here, among huts set up in the park. A memorial now marks the site. It is strange to think of those maps and orders here, so close to grazing deer.

The park has another modern story that has spread around the world. In 2004, a small group of runners gathered here for a free, timed five-kilometre run on a Saturday morning. It was called the Bushy Park Time Trial. That simple idea grew into parkrun, which now takes place in many countries. If you come early on a Saturday, you may see hundreds of runners heading out across the grass. In a sense, a global habit began on this ground.

A practical word about the deer. They are wild animals, not pets. The Royal Parks advise visitors to keep at least fifty metres away. Never feed them or try to touch them. Take special care in autumn, during the rut, when the males compete and can be aggressive. Take care in early summer too, when the females are protecting their young. Dogs must be kept close and under control. With a little distance, you will see the herds behave naturally.

Before you move on, take a slow look around you. Notice the sweep of grass, the line of the avenue, the glint of water on the river or the pond. Somewhere nearby, the deer are grazing, as deer have grazed here for centuries. As you walk away, listen again for the wind in the old trees. Look once more for those faint medieval ripples in the ground. This land has carried kings, soldiers and runners. Today, it carries you.