memories

Since my illness started I have been a bit lax with this blog and I hope to improve matters.
Despite my professing that naturism isn't about looks etc, I have been reluctant to take and post pictures of older people, like Maja and I. We are retired now and have both gained some weight, but I have to bite the bullet and take some more pictures or a large part of our lives will be missing, so look forward to them soon.

In the mean time I have been writing a book about our naturism from the beginning, but it isn't enough to publish as a book. So I intend to publish it here in instalments, please let me know in the comments what you think.

Memories  of a Naturist

Part one - First Faltering Steps

I grew up on a Council Estate in Leicester, not the most prepossessing place for anyone with naturist tendencies, but it did have one saving grace. We lived on the edge of the city, beyond it was the open countryside of the city farms leading to the small village of Anstey, birth place of Ned Ludd, of Luddite fame. 

Around and beyond Anstey was open countryside and eventually Bradgate Park, the ancestral home of Lady Jane Grey. The grounds, now a deer park, of which had been brought by a local businessman and donated to the people of Leicester for their enjoyment.

Mostly it was open land but there were patches of woodland, sometimes quite dense most of these areas were in use by the local kids to make dens and play war games or cowboys and indians.  

But further away from the estate there were areas that were less frequented. One in particular was close to the farmhouse, only separated from it by a paddock, and far enough from the estate not to be disturbed.

When I first realised the potential of the area I was very nervous, I would go and sit there for ages, waiting to see if anyone came, but no-one ever did, no-one was living at the farm house – it was only used as an office, and so I decided to try going nude. I would only strip for a few minutes at a time, all the time worried that someone would catch me. But the times got longer and eventually I would to go there and spend hours without clothes, as often as I could.

Once when I was walking through the trees I came to a slightly thinner patch of woodland with a clear view of the paddock where two teenage girls were riding horses around some low jumps – I fled, pulling on my clothes as I ran, certain that someone would be after me.

But nothing happened, I breathed a sigh of relief, if either of the girls had seen me they cant have said anything. It was a long time before I ventured back there and eventually I decided that I hadn’t been spotted, no-one came to disturb my secret place. But I made up my mind to be more careful in future and steer clear of the thinner area of woodland. Also before stripping off I would check that the paddock was empty.

I would have loved to have shared my nudity, but I wasn’t going to risk being caught by someone who didn’t want to understand the joy of being nude in the open air.

My visits to this, secret place, lasted from around the time of puberty, until I got my own transport and was able to travel to better places, further a field.

Despite my hormones running wild at puberty there was never anything sexual about these sessions, which surprised me. Even the two teenage riders hadn’t caused any sexual reaction - I was probably too scared. 

I didn’t know what naturism was then and sometimes worried that there was something wrong with me. But I enjoyed the freedom and the feeling of the wind and sometimes rain on my skin, I couldn’t see how something so liberating could be wrong.

To be continued