Mast

 

Where tall mature beeches grow the woodland floor is covered in mast; it's been a bumper year, and although the beechnuts are small and fiddly to process, they're a reasonably good size. The small nut/seed is edible and have been traditionally used by human communities either by the people themselves or to feed animals; beware though too many can cause stomach upsets. They can also be used to produce oil still frequently used in parts of Europe; I crushed a couple between my fingers, they were good and oily and left my thumb and forefinger feeling glassy smooth. A tasty treat for the pigs at pannage if they sweep this way.

Nice haul

 

Mushroom season appears to have begun, late but better than never; I've enjoyed a couple of good hauls in recent days, enough to have a quantity drying and plenty for eating. I'm always grateful for the opportunity to gather some of natures' harvests, and give thanks to the land. Even though there's plenty of Ceps (boletus edulis) about I took only what I could reasonably process, being either by eating or drying, and left magnitudes more in peace. As Mando would say - this is the way.

Whittle

It's amazing how one's eye can so often pick out what's not natural in the natural world. As we walked through the stands this morning a piece of wood or a stick about 10m away amongst the leaf litter caught my eye, ostensibly a piece of wood, though as I drew closer it was a whittled piece of wood. Turned out to be a half finished wooden spoon. Some one had been practising their bushcraft skills, they'd completed the basic blank, though not yet begun in the bowl. Definitely wasn't carved this year, could be a few years old in fact. Nice.

Tangle wood

Tangle wood

Lunch

Guess what I'll be having for lunch; I was lucky enough to have foraged a half a dozen good sized Ceps (Boletus edulis) on this mornings' roam. Which was nice.

Stampede

Not my best photo, though in my defence the stampeding ponies came out of nowhere; they converged on a ford through Red Rise Brook from three different directions, and moved with purpose up through the shade towards Spy Holms. 

Equinox

 

Mabon, Alban Elfed, Michaelmas, Autumn equinox goes by many names, to me it's second harvest or the fruit harvest. What ever you might call it, it's the point when we enter the dark half of the year proper, a moment for reflection as we continue to gather in our harvest (whatever form that may take) whilst keeping one eye on Samhains' approach, with last harvest and the end of this cycle; the wheel of the year is no slouch. Equinox Blessings /|\

And like magic

The rain has brought a little mushroom magic out in the forest; I saw a dozen or so Liberty Caps or Magic Mushrooms (Psilocybe semilanceata) on our wander this morning, no edibles though. We need a little more rain yet I reckon, there may be standing water here and there but the ground remains solid underfoot.

Avon Water

 

Avon Water used to be a straightened drain until restored to it's previous course in the mid twenty teens. Now nearly a decade on the stream corridor is well on the way to returning to bog woodland, impassable without wellies through the wetter seasons and little better during the rest of the year; all signs of it's Victorian past have been erased, including the navigable path. It's weird, the forest streams played a major part in our children's childhood, we've got hundreds of photos and video clips along with countless memories of days spent on their banks; though through the restoration process many of those much loved spots we frequented now exist only in memory and media.

Sweet chestnut

The forests' Sweet Chestnut trees may be well decked in clusters of spiky casings, though they're not looking that big yet.

Sixth sense

The forest had been quiet throughout our roam, as if holding it's breath in anticipation; until, not far from the car the distant rumble of approaching thunder caused the canopy to erupt with urgent bird calls and in the blink of an eye the forests' atmosphere had changed completely. They say wildlife are sensitive to such things don't they.

Slick

A colourful slick on a wetland tributary, not to worry though as this oily slick is not the consequence of contamination, rather a natural phenomena caused by bacteria.  Groovy looking, reminds me of marbling with oil paints.

Berry good year

 

It's been a very good year for Blackberries, quantity wise anyways, unfortunately not so much on taste, with quite a number having a disappointingly bland taste. Maybe as a consequence you've seen more folk out gathering; weirdly though, even with the widespread abundance of blackberries, most of the people I've seen collecting were doing so on the sides of roads; what's that about? According to folklore today's the last day to collect blackberries, or least one of them, I've seen a couple; since Christianity' arrival it's been said that when the Devil fell from heaven he landed in a bramble thicket and cursed the bush, before that though it was a puck or malevolent spirits which rendered the berries foul. That in one form or another a similar story has existed for such a long time suggests there's a real world reason for avoiding late in the season blackberries, which if you've tried them is evident.

Pannage

Pannage is upon us and I understand the pigs have been released into the forest; although as yet we've not spotted any. What a grand old tradition pannage is; the practice is nearly 1000 years old, dating to establishment of the royal hunting forest by William of Normandy way back in 1079. It's a joy meeting the pigs amongst the trees, well, for the most part that is, occasionally you'll come up against some brute, in which case......run! 

Marco Rossi, The Sincerest Form Of Flattery

 

Recently I was kindly gifted this absolute gem by a close friend; The Sincerest Form Of Flattery by Marco Rossi, a fabulous 8'' lathe cut EP from the wonderful Fruits de Mer records (Friend Of The Fish 67). Rossi dishes up a glorious slice of 60's psychedelia sensitively re-imagined for our times, beautiful; we could certainly do with some of that 60's hope. As you'd imagine being from FdM this is a quality item, top notch by every metric, bravo. Marco Rossi is best known for being a member of The Kevin McDermott Orchestra and the fabulous Gothic Chicken (Not heard of them? Then you really must check 'em out, 'cos you're missing out.). It's immediately evident that Rossi has a deep understanding, love and respect for the original source material and the 60's psychedelic period from which they came, as his interpretations do the originals justice conjuring the same atmosphere and yet still managing to bring something new to each; he's chosen four wonderful tracks, interesting left field choices too, beginning with 'Ivy Ivy' by The Left Banke, followed by 'My Friend' by Spirit, 'L.A' by Orange Bicycle and finally 'Forget All About It' by The Nazz. Man, this is good. Rossi's arrangement and production are perfectly pitched, his attention to detail meticulous, getting everything spot on, his voice naturally lends itself to the genre and all together he's rendered a warm and engaging 60's musical aesthetic that you can just sink right into...sumptuous. I understand that these four tracks are but an appetizer, and that there's a whole CD available! Now, CD's are my last choice of format, I've never forgiven Tomorrows World for it's false claims regarding the durability of CD's; that said, I'll be trying to procure a copy toot suite. Would you believe it this project was produced in a bedroom too, mental! Yup, that's right, Rossi created this in a bedroom. Far out.

The Boys

 

Change is afoot in the forest. No matter how stuffed our weather is the wheel still turns, and as we fast approach rutting season the deer are on the move, the stags are getting frisky and you're beginning to hear their barking echoing through the stands. This morning as we followed Fletchers Water near Queen Bower (site of a Medieval hunting lodge) we crossed a group of seven or so youngish looking stags engaged in boisterous activity; who disappeared off single file across Fletchers Green when they realised they were being watched, periodically pausing to look back and ensure we weren't following.

Saharan sunrise

A Saharan sunrise to compliment last evenings sunset. That's all we saw of the sun on this mornings walk; shortly after sunrise the clouds closed becoming a grey blanket and it wasn't too long before it was raining.

Saharan sunset

Apparently it's dust from the Sahara that's creating the warm hued sunsets and sunrises of recent days. Very nice too.

Oak Pinhole Borer

This fallen mature oak trunk shows the tell tale signs of Oak Pinhole Borer beetle (Platypus cylindrus) infestation, the entire length of this substantial trunk is effected, covered in fine sawdust, as the the floor below. They clearly attack in numbers; I say attack although that's not entirely fair, the Oak Pinhole Borer goes for dead wood or declining trees and isn't the cause of a trees downfall. Called 'Oak' Pinhole Borer this hungry bug will be just as happy with other deciduous trees such as Beech or Sweet Chestnut too. Apparently they were listed as rare by the mid 1980's although the Great Storm of 87' saw their fortunes change with an abundance of dead wood suddenly becoming available.

Drying out

 

This morning the ponies had the right idea; in Red Rise a group of them congregated amongst a cool shady stand of Yews. The unseasonally warm weather continues and the forest continues to dry out; right when we should be looking forward to the mushroom season too. Bah! (shakes fist)

Swansong

Back again to Mudeford Quay to take in the days' swansong. The clouds a touch thicker and darker this evening; we were gifted a lovely sunset nonetheless. I wasn't the only one taking it the sinking Sun; I wonder if and how other creatures register and experience things like sunsets.

Mudeford quay

 

We used to holiday each year in Cornwall, we loved it, and as you'd expect every day we'd find ourselves somewhere on the coast. This evening I was sat on the edge of the harbour at Mudeford Quay watching the Sun's westward transit, around me the sound of happy chatter, the smell of fish and chips, on the water swans, gliding paddle boarders and the parade of small boats making their way single file up The Run into the harbour at days end, and my mind drifted off; then the dawning realization, this feels just like Cornwall. A warm wave of nostalgia washed over me, then I thought, why don't we come here more often? How could we neglect this local gem. One of the aspects we loved about Cornwall is right here at the end of the road, always has been, and we're such rare visitors. The type of dawning realization that experience tells me I'm undoubtedly destined to repeat.

Burley Old

The forest felt at peace this morning, it was quiet and still, but for the sunny bird song that floated through the canopy. What a beautiful space to find oneself in.

Birch seed casings

 

All across the Common this morning, the gossamer threads of spiders toil were festooned with Silver Birch (Betula pendula) seed casings, the majority of the papery winged seeds having been transported elsewhere on the winds. A mature Silver Birch, and many of those over the Common are mature, can produce up to one million seeds; certainly like hedging their reproductive bets.

Markway

The sun rises through the remaining stand of trees in Markway enclosure, a broad strip of juvenile deciduous trees running the west side of the enclosure, the rest of the enclosure was of coniferous stock now all clean cut. 

Misty hollows

 

Mists hung silently in the boggy hollows and tributaries of the early morning forest; there's a mysterious otherworldly quality to the Forest when conditions are like this.