Blackensford Brook

 

Blackensford Brook

Black Science Vol.2 'Welcome, Nowhere'

  

Set adrift in the multiverse of parallel worlds they call the 'Onion' by their sabotaged dimension jumping device known as the 'pillar', what remains of the Anarchist League of Scientists having lost their leader bounce from one horror to another. Unable to control the destination or duration of each jump, their lives in the hands of fate, each world they visit being both weirdly alien and yet strangely familiar. But are the jumps as random as they appeared, or is the pillar making choices, and what damage are they and it doing. It appears where ever they, or their alternative versions, go they bring with them disaster in one form or another, consequently they're welcome nowhere. 

In Black Science Vol.2 'Welcome, Nowhere' Remender continues the fast pace story telling he established in vol.1;  he really knows how to spin a yarn, a master of world creating and character development, of situation and surprise, our protagonists are on one hell of a ride. Scaleras' art is expressive and dynamic, breathing vivid life into Remenders' characters, whilst Whites' choice and use of colour is the final touch of perfection, a feast for the eye. This story just keeps getting better.  (Collects issues 7-11)

Dorsetshire Gap

Looking towards the Dorsetshire Gap from Rawlsbury Hillfort on a spur of Bulbarrow Hill.

The road to Bulbarrow

 

I haven't walked this route in an age, Okeford Hill out to Bulbarrow Hill and Rawlsbury Hillfort. It's a lovely walk. The route runs along the edge of an escarpment of the Dorset Downs with striking views out over Blackmore Vale and into the surrounding counties, ahead you can just make out the ancient ramparts of Rawlsbury in the distance, and glimpse the Dorsetshire gap beyond. Bulbarrow Hill at 274m is the second highest hill in the county, it's height has always drawn people to it, with evidence of human activity way back to our Mesolithic hunter gathering forebears, 9600 - 4000BC. 

Southern Marsh orchid

 

A Southern Marsh orchid (Dactylorhiza praetermissa) near Ossemsley ford.

Avon Water

 

Comfortable back in its' old meanders, Avon Water is unrecognisable from the straight drain it was forced to be. Returning the stream to its' former wandering course is certainly having the desired affect, the area is definitely much wetter and lusher.  It'll take time to fully restore the environs of Avon Water to what they must have been, this is promising though.

Elderflower

Right on time the Elder (Sambucus nigra) are coming into flower. Broad umbels of tiny creamy white flowers with a distinctive heady floral scent; soon the hedgerows and woodland fringes will be full to bursting with them.

Spoon

I've been practicing bushcraft since before I knew it was called bushcraft, and in all those years I'd never carved a wooden spoon. So I borrowed a crook knife off one of my boys and rectified that, and was pleasantly surprised by my efforts. Not bad for a first attempt, eh?

Hellstone

 

The Hell Stone. Although referred too as a dolmen, I'm not sure the Hellstone is one, they're not a common monument type for this region, being more customarily found further west and in Wales.  Of course that doesn't mean it isn't. Though I believe it's more likely the remains of an Neolithic chambered long barrow (a monument type typical to the region) reconstructed in 1866 using a degree of wishful thinking. Still, cool site.

The Grey Mare and her Colts

 

The Grey Mare and her Colts are the remains of one of the regions many Neolithic chambered tombs. Even in ruin it's an substantial monument, behind a large stone façade the capstone and supporting stones of the burial chamber lay collapsed, beyond which a greatly reduced long mound with evidence of peristalith is still clearly visible. Like many prehistoric monuments it would appear that site has an astronomical alignment, in this case with the Summer Solstice sunset.  The Grey Mare and her Colts is a nicely preserved Neolithic long Barrow one I'd recommend to anyone interested in prehistoric archaeology.

Valley of the Stones

We'd journeyed to the Valley of the Stones this morning in search of the 'polishing stone' or if you want to sound posh 'polissoir'; the Valley of the Stones being a substantial field of exposed Sarcen boulders, the largest in the region. Rarer that hens teeth this stone is one of only two such stones identified in situ in the British Isles. Dating from the Neolithic 4000 to 2200 BC, it would've been used in the finishing of stone artifacts, the action of which has left super smooth areas on the boulders surface. The stone was only identified a few years ago, so a must for anyone interested in prehistory. Anyway, we couldn't find it, poor preparation on my part; every day's a school day, eh. Still, lovely spot.

Eggardon Hill

 

Eggardon Hill, an Iron Age multivallate hillfort belonging to our local Celtic tribe the Durotriges. A nicely preserved example of a hillfort, set in the most picturesque of landscapes, Eggardon is imposing perched up on an exposed chalk upland. Positioned where it is Eggardon is both visible for miles and has some spectacular views out into the channel, over west Dorset and the surrounding counties. Well worth a visit.

Rills

Rills, rivulets, brooks, creeks, runlets, gullies, gutters or whatever regional or local term you employ to describe these small tributaries, their importance to the whole thing cannot be overstated. A expansive filigree of veins transporting the life blood of the land, and nowhere more so than the New Forest which has mile upon mile of mostly untitled tiny waterways woven through its stands and across its heaths. Appearing insignificant as we step across them, without them the forests streams would soon dry up and then too the rivers they eventually feed.

Just an illusion

 

The pollen, leaf casings and seasonal cast off have rained down a carpet which gives the fishing lake surface the illusion of solidity; the illusion was powerful enough for Hector (a miniature schnauzer I was walking) to walk off the edge and straight under, immediately bobbing up he swam briskly to the bank and out, he wasn't bothered any, on the contrary appearing invigorated. Though I did catch him glancing about furtively as if making sure no other hounds had seen his display. Then tail wagging, we were off again.

Foal

On the bank of Fletchers' Water I saw my first foal of the year. Quite and still one moment, next rolling around wildly and kicking out, the foal was clearly loving life; after some cajoling from its' mother it attempted to stand, unsteady at first, it soon straightened up finding its' legs. Isn't nature a marvel.

Great Huntley Bank

In the last week we've walked the best part of Highland Water. Todays' section from the New Forest Gate House through Great Huntley Bank to Bolderford Bridge was lovely. Under a blue sky, bathed in dappled light, senses captured by the sights, sounds and smells of spring, we wandered through a wonderful pallet of verdance. Joyful. Still, at the back of your mind you know there'll be a price to pay for our mild, dry and rather agreeable winter/spring, and the degree of gravel on show suggests that without a watery respite payment will be coming due. Succinctly put, it's fecking dry out.

Slow worm

First Slow Worm (Anguis fragilis) I've seen this year. Of course it's not a worm at all, nor a snake as many might imagine, rather a legless lizard. You'll often see slow worms with missing tails (not this example though it remains complete), that's as a slow worm sheds it's tail when attacked. Weirdly the discarded tail continues to wriggle acting as enough distraction for lizard to escape. Caught out in the open this fellow was desperate to be anywhere else other than where it was, moving swiftly it soon disappeared amongst the leaf litter.

Highland Water

Dappled light plays on the rough path alongside Highland Water. No matter the season this stretch is easily the nicest stream side walking in the forest, though at it's finest through spring and autumn. The covid surge which saw noticeably more folk visiting the forest is finally disappearing in the rear view mirror. It's becoming the norm again for us to meet few or no other walkers on our walks. Of course if you walk a honey pot spot you'll still see lots of people, but get off the beaten track, just a bit, and you'll more often than not have the stands to yourself. 

Surprise graffiti

This piece of graffiti is off the beaten track, and quite close to a forestry property too. The canvas, a water metering station I think. The piece, a anemone like tentacle releasing what could be luminescent spores. Simple, but effective. I recognise the artist, I've seen their work in a subway between Lyndhurst and Brockenhurst. A nice surprise. I love a bit of graffiti, and I applaud the effort.

Studland wood

This is the way.

The Pinnacle and the Haystack

 

The way the chalk cliffs here have eroded has formed Pocket Bays filled with flint pebbles, the motion of which cause the pockets to erode further, which in turn creates stacks. The Pinnacle and the Haystack above represent the latest chalk stacks in a multi millennia spanning parade of stacks, and their replacements are already being created.

Isle of Wight

 

Being were we are on the coast you get so used to seeing the Isle of Wight a certain way, from Purbeck though you get to see it from a whole other angle. It's always nice to get another perspective on things. The island looks so different too, much bigger. Until 100 thousand years ago Purbecks' Old Harry Rocks and the Isle of Wights' Needles were part of the same a chalk ridge created at the time of the Cretaceous Paleogene extinction event. Time and the elements did for that though.

Beltane sunrise from Glastonbury Tor

 

What a magnificent dawn, a flawless Beltane morning. Rising majestically from the surrounding landscape Glastonbury Tor, a sacred hilltop crowded with smiley faces, people offering warm embraces, folk of shared purpose, here to greet the Sun. Rollo led the Beltane ceremony in his inimitable style, and people followed enthusiastically, as is the way. There's definitely something special about collective ceremonies, and made more so when diffuse and, for the most part, unconnected participants gather for a fleeting moment. Ceremony over, an accordion starts up, and the sticks of the Cam Valley Morris clash as the sun cracks the dawn to a collective cheer. Perfect. I felt a deep sense of reconnection after too long a period being disconnected. Beltane has always been my favourite festival of the eightfold year, a time of such potential and hope for a fertile season to come, and fertile by any metric you wish to employ too, spiritual, physical, material. It was only as I descended the Tor that I realised how I'd needed this morning, and how much it had affected me.  It really was perfect. Beltane blessing y'all.

Just before dawn

Just before dawn on Beltane morn.