Bone dry brook

Even Geoff with his magnificent water detecting skills was for the most part out of luck on this morning's walk. Both Dockens Water and Latchmoor Brook were bone dry, at least on the surface anyway. Shocking as it may appear, and not wishing to downplay climate change, on this occasion it's not uncommon for the forest's streams to show the naked bottoms; it's for how long that could be the sign of longer term environmental change. All that said, further up the brook shallow murky puddles could still occasionally be found enduring...much to Geoff's delight; luckily our route passed Eyeworth Pond we're he could ditch the murk.

Bratley Water

Looking over Bratley Water towards Bolderwood from Bushy Bratley.

From tiny acorns

The oaks are smothered with tiny acorns this year, quite the contrast to last summers near bare boughs. A good sign maybe for a fruitful pannage in autumn; last years pannage was very thin on the ground for the foraging pigs. Still, nothing is guaranteed, and without some much need rain I don't know how well this crop will develop. 

Burley Old

After 10 miles walking, another early start saw Geoff and I a mile out from the car shortly after 0800, just as the sun broke through the post dawn cloud, illuminating Burley Old. Again the forest had been ours alone to walk; and I ain't complaining.

Mud club

 

If NASA want to find water on a planet, forget sending a rover, send a retriever. I don't know how the bugger does it, no matter how arid, Geoff will find water. That said, water's not really a problem, mud on the other hand requires my participation in it's removal; and so a short distance on we reached Red Rise Brook where we undertook the ritual struggle which is cleaning Geoff's face.

Joan Russell

As I made my way up Bidcombe Hill I noticed what looked from a distance like remnants of a military structure or some such; I was mistaken though, it's a substantial block of shaped quarried stone. Facing the rising sun on the cleanly finished east facing surface is inscribed 'Joan Russell 1927 - 2003' underneath which 'Bernard Russell 1924 - 2011'. I had no idea who Joan and Bernard where, and after searching the internet I still don't; the block is on a list of public art as a 'Memorial and sculpture', although no further information is included; it's recorded on other sites such as Geograph too, although again, no detail is included. A mystery memorial it is then. Nice spot though, and I'd bet a lovely place to watch the sunrise.

Bidcombe Hill

Again I unexpectedly found myself out and about with several hours to pass; this time in Southwest Wiltshire. What to do on an exceptionally hot and sunny day I thought, I know, I'll get closer to the sun by walking up onto one of the exposed chalk grassland hills of the region; common sense sometimes eludes me. I don't know this area, though the highest point close to where I was Bidcombe Hill; the obvious choice then. Cold Kitchen Hill, Whitecliff Down and Brims Down form a bowed ridge with Bidcombe Hill as it's highest point at 297m. Once up there the high downs afford stunning views in all directions across the rolling Wiltshire countryside; making a heavy 8 mile walk (and blimey was it hot, little to no breeze either), well worthwhile. I'm always grateful for the opportunity to walk somewhere totally new; the elation of experiencing a landscape and it's vistas for the first time, there's a unique magic to those walks.   

Kimmeridge

This morning I unexpectedly found myself on the Isle of Purbeck with a couple of hours to pass. I'm not complaining; being a term time Monday the Kimmeridge bowl was thin on walkers, and with most visitors congregating at the focal point of the beach I had the ridge walk to myself. Originally I'd thought to walk the under-cliff eastwards, though the tide wasn't out that far so I decided to walk out to Swyre Head; I'd forgotten how steep the rough track up towards the Head is.  Although a reasonable breeze blew, you only felt and benefited from it when in the shade, out in the sun it was proper roasting, and the entire walk out to the head and back is exposed. Lovely walk mind, with wonderful views too, though I was grateful for the opportunity at the end of the walk to sit awhile in the shade of a clump of ash trees on the ridge just above Kimmeridge village, where the cooling breeze took no time to revive me. Nice impromptu walk. 

Sunset

 Another fine sunset.

Early doors

It was early doors for Geoff and I this morning and, man, was the fresh forest lovely; all rich colour and wonderful light. With his dense coat Geoff doesn't favour this hot weather, so we were up at 0400, and by 0520 were already under the canopy as the sun rose and flooded the stands. Deer featured prominently on our walk, they appear to be omnipresent, with groups and individuals everywhere; I mean everywhere. In fact even before our walk, two stags had emerged from the high roadside bracken directly in front of us requiring me to test the brakes, and test my sphincter; luckily both passed.  The early forest was ours for the majority of our walk, which is always nice; the popularity the forest endured during the early period of covid appears to have abated (touch wood); although I still have issues and concerns around the over promotion, and consequent commodification, of the forest...although that's another ramble. After a 10.5 mile walk taking in the wonders of the summer forest we were back at the car before 0900, with the day still ours. Well worth getting up early for.

Beside the seaside

 

Oh I do like to live beside the seaside, oh I do. The view from the 'High Cliff' which gives Highcliffe it's current name; well, Highcliffe on Sea, if you want to pretentious about it, as some of our would be lardy da types do; delusions of grandeur really for a village which until the late 19th century was called 'Slop Pond'. Though I digress. From near to far we have; Christchurch Bay; Mudeford Quay, and the 'Run'; Christchurch Harbour and Hengistbury Head; Bournemouth Bay, with the just visible line of sand being the dunes of Studland Beach; capped off by the Isle of Purbeck at the western end of the Purbeck Ridge, including the high point of Godlingston Hill. Not a bad view really.

Ooooh!

 Magnificently coloured sunset

The Boys

I'm constantly surprised, and somewhat concerned, by the increasing carefree nonchalance of the forest's deer; Geoff and I sat in plain sight watching a group of young stags for 10 mins, and the boys continued their grazing as if we weren't there. How rude. Don't they know that historically Geoff and I represent their biggest predatory threat, well, not us personally, but humans and canines; where's the acknowledgement of our predatory prowess? That said, they could obviously see that we were nothing but a pair of harmless chumps. Still, on a serious note, I've noticed that over the years how the forest's deer have become far less concerned about humans than they used to be, or maybe should be; back in the day they'd have been gone at the mere hint of us, and to see a deer close up was a rare treat. 

1877

I spotted this old piece of graffiti on a Beech near the Knightwood Oak; I love finding old graffiti, even more so when it's connected, or maybe connected, to historical events. 1877 is the year of the 'New Forest Act' which restricted the creation of any further large forestry enclosures in order to protect the Commoner's grazing land, it also recognised the open woodland as 'ancient' and re-establish the Verderer's Court which had previously been dissolved. There's something carved above the date, though whether it's letters and/or a symbol are uncertain due to distortions in the bark. I have to wonder if this double underlined date is in recognition of the Commoner's victory?

Revived

The forest's streams were becoming more gravel and murky puddle than stream, to the point where I cringed a bit when Geoff went in for a drink and a cool; thankfully recent rains has revived the forest tributaries fortunes, and once again they're flowing clean. Passing Blackensford Brook Geoff had an encounter with one of this season's young colts; the foal was fascinated by Geoff, and even though his mother clearly was intimating caution, the foal was determined to take a closer look. Geoff sat, patiently and somewhat nervously, as the foal approached, they eyed each other a while, then their noses touched; it was a beautiful moment, a rare one too, foals don't commonly behave like that; this young colt showed great character. Sadly, no photo of the event was captured (well, not be me anyway), as being surrounded by skittish mares I was more concerned with taking in the moment, ..... and monitoring our safety.