Dank would be the word which best describes the forest, now don't get me wrong that's not a criticism, I'm thankful for it, for if it weren't for this damp and dank, then there'd be no verdant lush green forest throughout the spring and summer seasons; and after all, England is supposed to be a 'green and pleasant land'. The ground, sodden with the rain of autumn and the melted snows of late, gives generously under foot, water moves with purpose through every channel and gully no matter how ephemeral and elsewhere water lay visible, unable to soak into the saturated ground. Some gullies, usually with no more than a gentle trickle of a flow, are flushed with escaping water, being transformed into formidable obstacles; several times, when close to water, I've found it difficult to find purchase and risked immersion. Ponies looked resigned to the dank as they forage for food; it's a scarce time of year as testified to by the frequency of chew off holly boughs laying about or the visibly scoured bark of recently fallen trees. The forest here switches between stands of mixed age, mainly deciduous, trees and open swathes of wet heath and sphagnum bog land with frequent gullies and gutters. We travelled a while along Highland water rushing on its way between Milliford Bridge and Roman Bridge, the stream is deep and the water stained dark brown with the peat run off. Evidence of the winter deluges are clear to see, the dam forcing a new course holds strong while further down stream a meander has been breached causing the formation of an island with 5 or 6 tree inhabitants. Suddenly, a loud crash from the coniferous plantation beyond and the distant buzz of saws filters through; forestry thinning out some mature Firs in Holidays enclosure, we move on. Turning east at Roman Bridge we finally ended up at the out of the way hamlet of Allum Green, unknown by many who pass it unknowingly.
Wednesday 20 January 2010
Danke!
Dank would be the word which best describes the forest, now don't get me wrong that's not a criticism, I'm thankful for it, for if it weren't for this damp and dank, then there'd be no verdant lush green forest throughout the spring and summer seasons; and after all, England is supposed to be a 'green and pleasant land'. The ground, sodden with the rain of autumn and the melted snows of late, gives generously under foot, water moves with purpose through every channel and gully no matter how ephemeral and elsewhere water lay visible, unable to soak into the saturated ground. Some gullies, usually with no more than a gentle trickle of a flow, are flushed with escaping water, being transformed into formidable obstacles; several times, when close to water, I've found it difficult to find purchase and risked immersion. Ponies looked resigned to the dank as they forage for food; it's a scarce time of year as testified to by the frequency of chew off holly boughs laying about or the visibly scoured bark of recently fallen trees. The forest here switches between stands of mixed age, mainly deciduous, trees and open swathes of wet heath and sphagnum bog land with frequent gullies and gutters. We travelled a while along Highland water rushing on its way between Milliford Bridge and Roman Bridge, the stream is deep and the water stained dark brown with the peat run off. Evidence of the winter deluges are clear to see, the dam forcing a new course holds strong while further down stream a meander has been breached causing the formation of an island with 5 or 6 tree inhabitants. Suddenly, a loud crash from the coniferous plantation beyond and the distant buzz of saws filters through; forestry thinning out some mature Firs in Holidays enclosure, we move on. Turning east at Roman Bridge we finally ended up at the out of the way hamlet of Allum Green, unknown by many who pass it unknowingly.
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