Spread Love

 Wise words.

Infinity and beyond

Expressions of love are a common focus in graffiti. You regularly see 'someone' for 'someone' carved into a smooth barked trunk, a Beech or a Holly. Frequently circled by a heart pierced by an arrow, although the example I discovered today is something different, it has a mathematical tip to it, 'Jon plus Alison equals infinity'. Original take, not seen it expressed like that before. I've said it before, it's difficult to exact age most graffiti (unless dated or topic dates it), too many factors, though through compassion after looking a hundreds of carvings I reckon you can postulate a plausible date, and I'd say this about 30/40 years old. Of course, as we made our way on I couldn't help but wonder how Jon and Alison's love had faired.

Canopy

Fall-en.

Backley Holmes

 Backley Holmes.

Game over, man.

 

Game over, man. The forest stands are all but closed down, it's really only the oaks who're still holding on to the last of their leaves. It's been a busy year in the forest, that said, it's always a busy year, that wheel keeps on turning. Now with the work done it's time for a well earned rest, not from us pesky humans though. Footfall in the forest has been heavy ever since lock-down, you've never seen the parking spots so full. Although you can still have the forest to yourself by staying well off the tracks, keeping it cross country stylee. Beech Bed's one of those enclosures that you rarely see folk, in fact I can't remember ever seeing a soul here. We took a while here to breath in the forest. Old Sol's tiring, his strength's waning, nonetheless his light casts long shadows through the beech stands, in whose hollows and damp places light mists persist and the silence is deafening, only broken by the occasional chatter of birds high in the naked canopy. You could lose yourself in the tranquillity of the woods today.

Lucas Castle

Withybed Green with the sun breaking cover to illuminate Lucas Castle beyond from Stonard Wood. Behind Lucas Castle you can just make out the Spreading Oak on the horizon, or rather the clump containing it. Wonderful part of the forest.

Highland Water

 Highland Water as it passes through Holmhill Enclosure.

Gone but not forgotten

There's lots to be learn from a landscape, the lumps, bumps, dips and lines all tell stories, although some things you'd never guess. Take this line of deciduous trees cutting across a forest lawn, their linear nature is quite incongruous for their surroundings. They may represent an old boundary or something, the ground looks undisturbed with uniform vegetation, there are cows grazing here now. Unless you'd known this area of the forest 10 years ago you'd never guess that until 2011 the trees marked the course of one of the forests longest straightest drains, Fletchers Water. Back in 2010 there was a near ruler straight drain through here, at roughly 2m wide, with sheer sides 1m or so deep and flanked by dense carr/hedgerow shrub Fletchers Water ran straight for more than a mile until it merged with Highland Water some way above Bolderford Bridge. Today you'd really never know, even I could doubt my own memory, so good a job was done. Today Fletchers Water meanders again along it's pre-Victorian course amongst the oaks and thorn along the edge of Fletchers Thorns; it's now shallower, broad in places, narrower in others, and flanked by diverse flora.

Here's a post I made in 2011 when the work began

Duck Hole

 

Fingers of boggy wetland fill the hollows and shallow valleys of the forest, fed by springs and a filigree of rivulets, and helped massively by the regions underlying geology heavy with clays, they're the life blood of the landscape. Frequently  hidden, neglected, avoided by walkers in favour of easier terrain, they're strange eerie places, often very quite and unusually still, chains of dark peat stained pools, fringed in places with wiry carr wood. Our ancestors believed these places spiritually significant, a boundary between worlds maybe, or a source life and renewal, to them powerful magic and/or deities dwelt here. Maybe they still do.

 

The Locker Room Cowboys 'The Future Came and Stole Our Dreams'

The Locker Room Cowboys (TLRC#1 Budge, Curvey, Crystal Jacqueline, Peel & Reyes) appeared on Fruits de Mer's epic 'The Three Seasons' contributing a wonderful re-imagining of The Stones 'We Love You', then swiftly vanished. After that début appearance there were obviously calls for more, an album maybe? A couple of tantalizing short demo pieces followed, then earlier this year the release of their superb début single 'Always Love You' (TLRC#2 Bateson, Budge, Budge, Peel & Reyes). Now this band of musical troubadours, brainchild of West county's bassist supreme Andy Budge, returns with their début album 'The Future Came and Stole Our Dreams' and, man, it's really something rather special. The Band's line up has been augmented for this outing, Budge is quick to emphasize a collective effort drives the band, and what a collective it is: Charlie Bateson (Steepways); Andy Budge (Cary Grace Band, Icarus Peels Acid Reign, Steepways); Evie Budge; John Garden (Scissor Sisters, Alison Moyet, Cary Grace Band); Crystal Jacqueline (Crystal Jacqueline, Honey Pot); Icarus Peel (Honey Pot, Acid Reign) and Victoria Reyes (Honey Pot, Steepways, Cary Grace Band), a stellar line up I'm sure you'd agree. I've had the privilege to give the album a listen(s), and straight off I've got to say, kudos y'all. The 'Future Came and Stole Our Dreams' (inspired title) is a fancy box of aural chocolates made up of some of our favourite centers, of course, if they were chocolate we'd swiftly become Mr Creosote, moreish doesn't do these tracks justice. An interesting mix of influences and styles has created twelve innovative, beautifully crafted, lyrically fluent and sumptuously rendered tracks, every one written and performed faultlessly, with elegant arrangement and production throughout.

The album opens with 'Procession' a short and sober new-wave electronic flavoured track, a stripped down drum and guitar introduction that gets your attention. The mood quickly changes with Oklahoma '33, a slice of the soft 80's tasting electronica/pop that characterized soundtracks of the period, many of the tracks on this album have cinematic qualities to them, it's masterfully crafted with wonderful guitar and appealing backing vocals. That 80's electronica vibe's also present though morphed in the doleful 'Most of you', a moody synth and keys driven number, where the earnestness to Bateson's voice works brilliantly in conjuring the quintessential atmosphere of melancholic indie/electronica. Though I feel the strongest influence running through the core of 'The Future Came and Stole Our Dreams' is a sweet blend of soulful rock, blues rock, and Americana. 'Deep Water' craftily straddles genres, sci-fi electronica bookends a solidly laid back blues rock number with splendid guitar from a Garden and Peel combo, and again lovely backing vocals from Crystal Jacqueline, who appears on several tracks; always a joy to hear.  Then you've got the jaunty upbeat soulful rock flavours of 'Laurel Canyon Comedown', so catchy you're guaranteed to snag your jumper on it, a proper handsome number. Many tracks benefit from Peels capital vocals, which in my opinion have a somewhat Roger Waters-esqueness quality at times. You'll be loving the guitar flavours throughout, each appropriate to the individual track, all impressively delivered and gloriously rich. The whole album has a tremendous richness to it's sound. Half way through the album the unmistakable golden age Floyd-ness of 'Big Yellow Circle' showcases the manifest guitar talents of Icarus Peel, which with perfect slow motion rhythm by Budge and some truly gorgeous keys from Garden create a particularly arresting piece; John Garden's contributions shine across the album (doffing cap). Both single tracks 'Always Love You' and 'Revolutions' are included on the album, slipping in effortlessly with their siblings.  'Always Love You', is a winsome stripped back 60's folk rock-esque number, soothing jangly guitar accompanies Peel's soulful vocals and some lovely backing vocals provided by Bateson and Evie Budge, it's a divine lazy sunny afternoon of a song. 'Revolutions' is a beautifully paced number, Bateson's vocals again compliment the composition and arrangement marvellously, and Victoria Reyes piano is especially delightful. The judicious use of the vocalists is inspired. Awareness of my spiralling word count cows me from enthusing more about every track on the album, so;  be it 'Bordertown's blissful funky bourbon sipping soul, or the emotion loaded 'I'm sure I will', or  the perky strutting of 'Let Me Tell You' drifting into ambiance, all are incredible! In the artisanship of 'The Future Came and Stole Our Dreams' no detail has been overlooked, there's no dead wood or filler, no tracks to skip, every track plays it's part in the album's journey. Until it's 'Goodnight and Goodbye', the perfect final track, a mournful slow rhythm fades the album out with outstanding lead vocals from Peel complimented by outstanding backing vocals from Bateson, pure magic.

What a truly phenomenal début album, that's not hyperbole either, there's definitely something special here. There's nothing not like and so much to love about this multifaceted album, most of all though, you'll love it's originality, Budge et al. have taken contrasting strands and woven something with timeless appeal, it's fantastic. You're immediately invested, drawn in by it's beautiful pace, it's genuinely satisfying listening, packed with catchy tunes, it's got depth enough to immerse yourself, or if circumstances dictate, enjoy in the background, and it's really great listening when driving. The Locker Room Cowboys 'The Future Came and Stole Our Dreams' is ideal for any listening situation, the mark of good music with broad appeal, and it just gets better listening each time. Enough, my clumsy writing doesn't do the magnificence of this album justice, you'll have to hear it for yourself. Budge emphasizes the album's collective nature, and that's clearly evident throughout, though I think he deserves a mention, his prints are on every track, in the writing as well as the music, he also plays an astounding array of instruments across the 12 tracks, obviously proficient on all, and this is his first time arranging, mixing and producing; remember, all this from a bass player! Big up maestro, and again, kudos y'all...honestly impressive. My privilege extended to hearing 4 tracks not on the album, yeah that's right, all sensational. 'The Future Came and Stole Our Dreams' will be released shortly, so keep an eye on The Locker Room Cowboys Bandcamp page, there's also hints of future live performances, which would be most excellent. Be assured, no fear of buyers remorse with this release, guaranteed! 

Tyred

 

He'd been on the road for miles, Trevor lent against the forest Oak, he was so tyred.

Great Huntley Bank

Another gorgeous day in the forest. Walking along Highland Water again today, though a few miles down stream as it snakes beside Great Huntley Bank. Autumn marches on and many of the stands through here are almost bare, fall is nearly complete.  We never really got the autumn show of colour we were predicted, the wind and rain arrived at precisely the wrong moment.  Meh though, the forest's always glorious, anything beyond is a bonus cherry on an already magnificent cake. 

Upper Highland Water

Upper Highland Water.

Creek Bottom

It was glorious walking through the forest this morning, yesterday's rains had left it smelling, tasting and feeling box fresh. Unlike yesterday the sky was mostly blue and a bright low sun cast long shadows over the forest landscape, and intensifying the myriad autumnal hues. It's starting to get wetter out here too, the spongy bogs are sponging, seasonal watercourses are coursing, Red Rise Brook regularly runs beyond it's banks, and throughout the ground is softening and hollows quickly fill. The season of the wet forest is upon us.

Burley New

Burley New enclosure

Autumn in Burley Old

 Autumn in Burley Old.

The woods get wetter.

With each subsequent visit to Brinken the woods get wetter. Beyond restoring more valuable natural bog woodland, one of the benefits of restoring the forest's streams and drains to their natural states, has been that the transit of water through the forest is greatly slowed, meaning more water remaining in the landscape, stopping flooding down stream. From now until well into spring the Warwickslade/Brinken area will remain mostly underwater, all that'll change will be the depth.  It's an area where the walking never gets boring.

Forgotten bridge

No discernible paths lead to or from this forgotten bridge across a backwoods drain.

Clouds

The weather wizards had foretold of a clear sky at sunset, of course, they lied, or are just rubbish at weather wizardry. As the sundown drew closer, I knew there wouldn't be a sunset this evening. Still, the clouds were interesting.

Ober Water

Below Markway bridge the Red Rise Brook becomes Ober Water and the forest opens up, now travelling through a shallow broad valley. It's a mainly open landscape, here and there thin groups of trees cling to the stream hemmed by patches of sphagnum bog. Remodelled countless times over centuries by man and nature, the valley bottom is a filigree of former channels and silted oxbows which seasonally echo their former glories. That's starting happen now and wellies are the only guaranteed way you'll get across without wet feet. During really wet seasons the whole valley floor flows like a broad reflected blue sash snaking through the landscape.

Cauliflower fungus

 

I've not seen a Cauliflower fungus (Sparassis crispain) for a couple of years, mostly I imagine as I tend not to do much coniferous walking until winter proper, and I need a hit of green in the face of the skeletal deciduous stands.  A bugger to prepare/clean, good eating though when young.  I've not eaten one for more years than I've not seen one, I tend not to collect any species not occurring in a abundance. In Cauliflower's case abundance may mean a fair sized clump, from which a dinners worth could be harvested without major detriment to the clump. Many of the forest's edibles made poor showings this season, few Boletes, some Hedgehogs, not much fungi about at all, even the usually abundant Parasols on Spy Holms, although present, were so in greatly reduced numbers.  So it goes.

Tree way split

 

Tree way split*  

* Well, you'll notice it's four really, though one was so much smaller, and certainly not big enough to get in the way of me making the pun.

It's nuts!

 

It's been a proper bumper year for Acorns, even with pigs and other woodland inhabitants having their fill, the forest floor remains thick with nuts in places. I understand that pannage has been extended again this year, pig'll be well fed this winter. It's not just the woodland floor that's experiencing the nut glut, there are long stretches of stream where the nuts washed into the waters congregate to cover swathes of the stream's bed. Quite a sight.

Gorgeous

 

I've so many things to be grateful for, and I am, truly.  One of those things would most definitely the forest. The forest is a beautiful soul, what ever you need of it, it provides willingly; a confidant, a crutch, a companion, a teacher and more. This morning the forest was particularly stunning, the subtly changing colours of the canopy, the light through the stands reflected on wet woodland's mirrored pools and streams; it's embrace along with the gentle kiss of Autumn Sun was most welcomed. Pure joy.

Geoff's return

Geoff's returned to the forest on reduced walks and it's straight back to the established routine, first muddy puddle he finds.....every time! 

Samhain

As the last harvest's almost gathered in and the light of the day grows ever shorter, the veil thins. It's a time to take stock, to look back, to count our blessings and to remember those who've gone before. It's a time to be grateful, to give thanks. I hope the fates have been gentle to you this difficult year, that your harvests are what you'd desired and your metaphorical barn (and physical one, for that) is full to the rafters. As darkness's reign begins we'll dream our dreams of spring. Samhain blessings y'all. x

Camouflage

I asked around, and they call her camouflage.

Stag Brake

Change is everywhere in the forest at the moment. Of course, the forest's always changing as the wheel turns, although it's really the beginnings of Autumn and Spring when those changes are most manifest. You know, it can be quite the dramatic landscape in it's own laid back way.

Poor paw Geoff

Poor Geoff. A visit to the vets this morning confirmed what I'd thought after yesterdays walk, that a broken claw means Geoff's on short walks on the lead for the next week. I know a dog who wont be happy with that, he's used to 3 to 5 miles a day and a longer walk on a Sunday.  Yesterday, he came bounding through the undergrowth of Red Rise Shade, blood all over his front leg, on inspection, clearly a claw...and not one I could deal with. It didn't appear to bother him muchly, though it was still a fraught walk back as we were still over a mile out. He's still doesn’t appear bothered by it, nor his bandage, which is cool.

Zoom

Zoom, just one bite and then my mind went boom. They reckon animals eat psychedelic fungi and plants on purpose, apparently actively seeking them out. Makes you wonder.

Autumn light

Autumn light.

Still

 

If one word described the forest this morning, it was... still. I've noticed it before, with it's work almost done the autumn forest takes opportunities to pause as if to savour it's myriad accomplishments. It was doing that today. There's a serenity amongst the stands, little stirred and what did did so with muted grace, there was hardly a sound to be heard. There seemed to be an absence of  birds song too and the breeze, as it was, was so slight that even the canopy remained motionless. And to cap it all I wasn't wearing wellies, which meant no rhythmic shlap. The forest was quiet, and Geoff and I moved through the quiet forest in deft silence. It was lovely, quite the meditative roam, and roam we did. Just over 10 miles, from Clay Hill to Mark Ash Wood and back; Geoff's longest walk and every step a joy. 

Parasol

There are quite a few young Parasol mushrooms (Macrolepiota procera) developing amongst the heather on Spy Holms. Though beyond these and Hedgehogs (Hydnum repandum), there's little going on in the forest mushroom wise, edible or otherwise.

Bratley view

 

Autumn in the New Forest; really, what's not to love.

Lineage in the landscape

Landscape tells the story of our collective journey through the ages via a myriad of individual stories played out and memorialised on it's surface. And it's everywhere. This morning birds flocked fresh furrows as a farmer tilled his field to a fine tilth; the crest of the field is crowned by two fine large Bronze Age round barrows, even after 4000 years of weathering remaining striking features in the terrain. As we passed below the field the fresh furrows channelled my view directly towards a barrow, highlighting a direct linage in the landscape. These barrows were put here by successful farming communities; settled farming communities that even by the Bronze Age had worked these fertile soils for 2000 years (older Neolithic long barrows are commonplace in these parts). That's 6000 years of uninterrupted farming so far....and counting. I thought, if you could raise one of these ancient farmers, once you'd stopped them freaking out, they'd understand exactly what was going on, they'd recognise farming as the fundamentals have changed little. Cool, eh. 

Separately, as we returned home listening to the radio, blah blah climate crisis, financial crisis, corona crisis, death doom blah blah and so on, just for a moment I was in the opening sequence of one of those epic apocalyptic disaster movies. Strange days.

Burley Old old timer

Enjoying the autumn sun one of Burley Old's many old timer trees. Gnarly and stripped of bark this wizened veteran oak still retains his place and presence amongst the stands.

Creech Hill

Purbeck again this morning, and what a wonderful day for walking, the light on the landscape was stunning, the vistas had an ultra real quality to them. We parked at Corfe and made our way along the base of Knoll Hill, our now familiar route easing us into the hills, where after a couple of miles or so we rose up Ridge Hill with it's fabulous 360 degree views. I know I'm repeating myself, but Purbeck is something special, a landscape unique. After taking our fill of sites, we walked on following the high ridge past Grange Arch, an 18th century folly, and eventually reaching Creech Hill where we sat looking along the Tyneham Valley with the sea and Portland beyond. Man, what a breathtaking rural scene, a patchwork of fields, hedgerows and copses, nestled in the folds of hills and cliffs, I breathed it all in. Later as we descended Ridgeway Hill we met a chatty elderly local lady on her way up and we got chatting; I try not to miss any opportunity to indulge my passion for local aural histories. The lady told of being born in the Corfe Valley, having lived here all her life and of all the changes she'd seen. Of how the nature of the population had changed, how when her children were young there used to be 40 children on the school bus from Kimmerage to Corfe. Of how the land has altered, how there used to be lots more small fields, more hedgerows and how the valley bottom fringing the Corfe River used to be all flower meadow. I could endlessly listen to people telling the story of a land they're intimately connected to; I love it. My mind wandered as Geoff and I continued on our way, imaging the valley as the lady described; so, a timeless landscape more changed than I'd imagined. 

Fruit of fruits

 

These wild/feral-escapee apples over the common may be small, but they're perfectly formed and full of flavour, in fact they're as tasty as any commercial variety and better than many.  And there's loads of them!

Forest magic

 

There's old magic out here in our enchanted forest, it stalks the open heath and shaded stands, it whispers on the breeze and it flows in abundance through the forest's meandering streams. This morning the Red Rise Brook babbled as I passed by, it sounded like a muffled voice from a small radio just out of clarity's range. As the peat stained water swept over the brooks pebble bed I listened intensely, though could make nothing out. As I stood there transfixed on the bank, in a woodland scene dappled in gorgeous autumn light, it's was easy to see why for thousands of years streams and wooded places have been the focus of so much mystery, folklore and ritual.

A resumption of transmission

Thanks to the kindness of an dear friend with a spare monitor, transmission has been resumed.