If there's one thing that defines Magikitos, besides their cheeky smiles and suspicious connection to missing socks, it's how much they love the woods. They see a mushroom and start planning where the hammock will go. A root looks like an excellent bench for discussing matters of absolutely no importance.
That small, damp world, full of nooks and crannies, gives us endless stories. And the more closely we look at the real woods, the more things we find that need no tricks to leave us properly amazed.
Why do Magikitos live in the woods?
The woods are home to our Brownies in the fictional world of Magikitos. Our origin story isn't terribly solemn: they're born when someone has a joyful poo in the woods. That's the refined opening. Then come the mischief, the snacks and conversations with neighbours wearing mushroom hats.
The woods of Taramundi help shape that imaginary world. Mist, wet leaves and oddly shaped trunks invite a second look. A shadow resembles an ear. A branch looks like an arm. If a sock has also gone missing, we start getting suspicious.
Imagining a conversation with a mushroom is part of the fun. Watching where it appears, how it grows and what changes around it opens up another story, every bit as interesting.
You don't need to know every name before you begin. Notice the shape of the cap, the light reaching it or the drops caught on top. Looking counts as doing something.
Moss has a life of its own
In our stories, moss makes a splendid mattress. In the woods, it's a plant without flowers that reproduces through spores. It can hold water and help keep its surroundings damp, as Kew explains.
Look closely and the view changes. What seemed like a green patch becomes a collection of tiny shapes. You could almost add a staircase and open a Brownie guesthouse. We'll leave the moss where it is, though. That guesthouse may already have residents.
The mushroom isn't the whole fungus
A mushroom can look as though somebody put it there overnight. It's a fungus's reproductive structure. The mycelium, a network of fine threads, can remain hidden in soil or wood. Kew describes that less visible part.
When the mushroom disappears, the whole fungus hasn't necessarily gone with it. This neighbourhood has more rooms than you can see from the street. If you enjoy that mix of curiosity and storytelling, have a look at mushrooms and Brownies.
Walnut shapes, a pomegranate's red skin or a leaf changing colour give us ideas too. Not everything has to become an enormous revelation. Sometimes “That's lovely” is quite enough. Then you can get on with enjoying the afternoon.
Figures inspired by the woods
The cold-porcelain figures are handmade representations of these Brownies. Their faces, clothes and details tell woodland stories. Looking woodland-inspired doesn't mean they're made entirely from things gathered among the trees. Nor does it tell you where each decoration came from.
To explore the craft, read about how Magikito figures are made. To meet the characters, visit the Brownie section. The woods inspire the shapes and stories. We can enjoy both without taking the place home bit by bit.
Collect memories and leave the woods in place
Instead of pulling up moss or peeling bark away, try keeping a photograph, sketch or description. Fallen wood is a habitat too. Forestry England asks visitors to leave flowers, fungi and deadwood in place in its ancient woodlands.
Follow the guidance at each site. Use paths and avoid trampling plants to get a photograph. A lovely picture loses some of its charm if you had to dismantle the scenery to take it.
We like coming back to the same tree, listening for a while or noticing what's changed after rain. Shinrin-yoku is a Japanese practice of experiencing the woods through your senses. You can also simply head out for a walk and see what catches your attention.
How can you enjoy nature when you live in a city?
Start with something nearby that you'd like to look at. A street tree, clouds outside the window or a plant you can care for can offer plenty. You needn't turn the sitting room into a jungle or travel miles. A cuppa by the window might suit you nicely.
- Look at the same spot over several days. Perhaps buds appear or the shadows change.
- Keep a detail. A photograph or a couple of notebook lines can hold a memory without collecting anything.
- Choose a moment that suits you. A walk, an accessible bench or a view from home all count. There's no minimum distance.
- Make room for something you like. A plant suited to your available light, a drawing or a photograph needn't become another obligation.
Magikitos remind us how much we enjoy noticing small things. An afternoon might provide a whole story, or simply a pleasant bit of time. Either will do nicely.
And if the missing sock turns up, even better. The Brownie who borrowed it will have some explaining to do.
