This is a short story / poem . . call it what you wish, written after spending an enjoyable day with my son  who is a Priest based in Ipswich, Suffolk. He took us for a walk in Rendlesham Forest a few miles outside the town. It was an interesting afternoon.
Rendlesham forest is the site of one of the UK's most famous UFO stories back in 1980. The forest has a visitors centre and various information and features that mark the spot.  Read about it here 

An Afternoon in Rendlesham Forest

The day was bland, but not the company.
We had been invited for the day by my son who had not been able to 'fix' the weather 
. . . in spite of his Godly charm, it clouded over and rained!
But we were all at one.
The conversation, the interest and the input spanned three generations.
Three generations of Ipswich folk, now walking in Rendlesham forest.
Of course, the course was set.
A simple map with cheerful description told the story of Alien Cousins once visiting,
and of a crashed world war two enemy plane.
Simple really - a few 'myths' spring up and the authoritive powers that be build a woodland theme around it, 
so warm was the feeling as we sat eating our picnic right there at the centre of things.
'Representation. That's what it's all about' (I thought to myself.)
Everything known about this forest is represented in a commercial sense:
We have the obligatory map, - the children's play craft of supposed alien landings and
also of a crashed enemy craft!
We walked, and I thought of the past.
My Mother was with us and she knew something of what may have really past in these woods and the nearby area. 
Her own father, during the wartime years had mentioned 'things' - 'clues' but he never explained!
Her wise late husband had sat in the very car park and surmised certain 'theories' – but was never sure!
One of my younger sons stopped to read . . . he read the account of military accomplishment nearly
seventy years hence, and his interest was captured - just in that moment, as was ours.

What really went on?

I tell you this:

It happened. We know it happened. We looked at the footpath, - once a runway.
We gazed at the bank of bracken - once also part of the runway;  and we know it happened - all those years ago.
But what of Aliens?
Aliens in Rendlesham Forest?
Well, we followed the signs. We were alien to the forest. We were soon lost!
Now, these Aliens of Rendlesham had to prove themselves.
    'It's just around here I'm sure' said one.
    'We've covered this bit before' replied another.
The one in bright green was sceptical as the rain fell heavier.
     'We've lost our way. We think it's around there but we can't be sure!'
But Hope was in front, leading the way.
We'd been led astray by false signs but now, Hope was leading us home.
Hope is a good emotion; it can always lead you home.

    'You must meet our leader' echoed through my Rendlesham brain as I lagged behind
weary from the rain that fell around me. I looked far ahead and thought to myself by way of an answer:
    'Then, You must meet ours.'
Now, nearly home.
    
    Had we been led on a trail of deception? Of false promise?
No, of course not. There had been no insurance other than what was really there,
what had always been there . . . the trees, the road in, and now, thankfully, the car park that contained our craft 
to guide us safely home.


© T. Goymour 2013