I HAVE been hearing some really bad news recently. I have had reports of mindless vandalism, destruction and abuse of one of my favourite local woodland areas.

It is a managed woodland not far from Great Ayton that belongs to the Woodland Trust. It's not very big, only a couple of acres with a meandering stream and several steep climbs. It is easily accessible from the road, is bisected by a road unsuitable for vehicles and backs on to an ancient church and a modernised village hall.

I spent a large part of my teenage years in this woodland. The small group of us used to escape to the woods straight after school and at weekends. We would try and catch the guppies by hand in the little natural pools that formed as the stream wound its way round corners. Any that we did catch we would throw straight back in. We watched as they darted under rocks and pebbles. We learned which habitats they preferred and of what their daily routines consisted.

Best of all, we would climb trees. It was of utmost importance not to break the branches, as that would be a sign of weakness. We didn't carve our names into the bark, as that would be detrimental to the tree itself. It was the tree that was giving us this challenge so we didn't want to harm it. We would just see who could climb the highest. Then, we would sit, just sit and watch the world go by underneath us. It was like a secret life. We watched the rabbits nervously loping along the half-worn pathways, the multitude of birds flitting from tree to tree and bush to bush, the larger trout writhing their way amongst the exposed roots in the stream and the odd hedgehog snuffling through the snail trails.

We would occasionally scavenge branches from the floor and build little shelters. In summer, we would come home smelling of wild garlic. In winter, we caught hypothermia from lying on the ground to look at the cyan sky through branches laden with sticky snow. The worst we ever did was engage in a mud fight with a 'gang' from the neighbouring village.

This is where I learned about the importance of food webs and how one species depends on another for survival. This is where I learned my tree names, flower varieties and the diversity of wildlife. This was my school. It was also my playground.

Today, a small group of local children prefer to scythe down the flora. They get pleasure from ring-barking the trees. They squash anything that moves. They throw bags of rubbish into the stream. It makes me wonder. I know that we are in an age of encouraging our children to get out there and engage with their natural surroundings, but, wouldn't the rest of us be better off if they stayed at home, sprawled out on the sofa in front of the television?

* You can hear Brigid giving gardening advice and tips on BBC Radio Cleveland every Sunday between 11am and midday.