Samhain

 

The days are growing ever shorter, and now with last harvest safely gathered in, Samhain is upon us. Tonight the veil thins, a time to remember our ancestors and those who've gone before. This cycle has run its' course, it's a time to take stock, and count our blessings, it's a time to be grateful, and to give thanks. I hope the fates have been kind this year, and that your physical and metaphorical barns are full to burst, or at least well served. As darkness' reign begins we'll dream our dreams of spring. Flags, Flax, Fodder and Frigg y'all /|\

Flat Oak

 

Sad to find that one of the forests' elder statesmen, the Flat Oak of Wood Crates has lost one of its' three huge branches; the premier one too. This is an ancient oak, a remnant of a much older forest which existed prior to the 1700's and enclosure. They're a rarer phenomenon around the forest than you might imagine.

Noot

 

Noot '25. 

A31 subway at Upper Lazy Bushes.

Cauliflower fungus

One mushroom that appears to have fared well this season has been one of our less common, the Cauliflower fungus (Sparassis crispa). They've been more numerous this year than they've been for the last few years; on my roams at least. Considered edible good when young, although they're fiddly to prepare, taking a lot of cleaning. Remember, 110% on identification or leave well alone.

Bratley Wood autumn

 

Nice out. Bratley Wood.

Sneaky deer

 

I've not heard a stag roar for a while now, the rut must be coming to an end. As a consequence the groups of deer are beginning to dissipate. We disturbed a large group of Fallow Deer as we headed up from Bratley Water towards Bratley enclosure. They clocked our approach and quickly scattered; a few minutes later I spotted two of the stags back to back hidden amongst the browning bracken and scrub, a good defensive arrangement.

Sun kissed canopy

 

Early morning sun just catching the top of the canopy. Nice.

Last of the Ceps

 

It's not been an awful year for mushrooms, though nor has it been a particularly good one - around my roams at least. That said, some of my usual choices have been better than others. Ceps (boletus edulis) have been patchy, requiring careful and sustained searching to acquire, whereas Hedgehogs (Hydnum repandum) have been commonplace and easy to acquire, and Oysters (Pleurotus ostreatus) very rare indeed, only appearing in limited numbers after rain. Still, I'm not complaining, there have been worse years. I've enjoyed mushrooms for lunch every day bar one for 6 weeks, and count my blessings. I think this little fellow may represent the last of the Ceps; it's the only one I've seen in a couple of days now. I'll leave him be. Hail and farewell 'till next year.

Clay Hill morning

 Autumn continues to deepen in the forest.

Orange Oak Bolete

 

An Orange Bolete (Leccinum aurantiacum), sometimes known as the Orange Oak Bolete pushes up through amongst a loose group of Oaks on the edge of Red Rise.  They and their close cousins the Orange Birch Bolete (Leccinum versipelle) are usually a very common sight around the forest, though like others of their kin they've been scarce this mushroom season. Both boletes look very similar, and share a broadness in cap colour, one of the noticeable difference is that the stem of Orange Boletes have orange/brown scales floccules, whereas Orange Birch Boletes have small black scales. Both are edible, both require a very thorough cooking. Remember, 110% on identification or leave well alone.

Subway graffiti

 

A new graffiti piece in the Picket Post subway.

 

Black Water

Black Water, just above Gravelly Ford.

Orange Peel Fungus

 

A textbook example of Orange Peel Fungus (Aleuria aurantia), it's cited as edible, although I don't know if you'd be able to gather enough, or that it's worth it. 

Bomb loading Ramp

 

The New forest was home to a number of World War Two airfields, 80 years on and very little physical evidence of them remains, the Bomb Store at Hawkhill is one of the more interesting. Easy to miss amongst the undergrowth, one of the bomb stores' two loading/unloading ramps which would have been used to transfer bombs from delivery lorries onto land trains ready for storage or deployment around Beaulieu airfield.

Mast

 

The forest is experiencing a bumper mast year, wherever there are oaks the floor beneath them is liberally covered in acorns, to the degree that walking has become a crunchy affair. In light of the glut, I've been surprised as to how few pigs I've seen about the forest this pannage. They're going to need more pigs if a meaningful reduction in acorn mast is to be achieved. Years ago I had a go at making acorn coffee; I learnt that earthy burnt is an acquired taste. That said, if processed properly to remove toxins and tannins (it's a lengthy affair) they'd keep you fed in a crisis, very nutritious.

Parasols

There doesn’t seem to have been that many Parasol Mushrooms (Macrolepiota procera) about this season, they're usually a common sight amongst the heather of Spy Holms.

Sandy's Ridge

Sandy's Ridge, a liminal spaces between woodland and heath.

The Rut

Maybe through novelty and the access to new territory, the recently unenclosed Reinfield’s Sandy’s has become a Mecca for deer. The rut is most certainly on. Walking along the central track to my right I could hear hidden antlers clashing, off to my left deep in the stands a stag barked his guttural call, whilst ahead of me a group of fallow does cross the track watching Geoff and I hesitantly, before hastily disappearing into the safe darkness of a coniferous stand. A young white fallow stag stands clearly silhouetted against the dark greens and browns of autumn; I imagined him ironically saying 'you can’t see me, right', but I can, they do tend to stand out some. White fallow deer are a far more common sight that they were 20 years ago. The deer are everywhere, we see dozens, even when I can’t see them, I know their eyes are watching me pass.

Leave no trace

I never fail to feel disappointment when coming across a sight like this. With just a little thought from the builder you'd never have known that anyone had a campfire here. That's all it takes, a little bit of thought. Leave no trace, principle 5, minimize campfire impacts; you should aim for the site of where you've had a fire to be very hard, if not impossible to spot. Not obvious.

A trio of ceps

 

Well, it would be rude not to.

Ober Water

 

Early morning on Ober Water