Itchy

The pony purposefully first bent over and then straddled the sapling conifer in pursuit of relief; moving in ways familiar to everyone who's suffered an itch, there were points where she clearly hit the spot, the expression was unmistakable. This went on for several minutes until with itch satisfied she rejoined her waiting companions and disappeared into the stands; as for the tree, it was still regaining it's composure when we left it. I bet the tree wasn't expecting that.

Rainbow moon

 

The feint rainbow effect around the near full moon this evening gave the moon an appearance similar to the Helix Nebula. Well I thought so anyway. 

Latchmore Brook

Like the other forest streams Latchmore Brook is showing a lot more gravelly bottom than you'd expect for the time of year; it's not so much the exposed gravel itself, the flow of the forest's waterways fluctuate with the weather, it's rather the scale and duration of the exposures;  a reflection of the continuing dry weather.  That aside, the stands through which the brook travels are, in my opinion, some the best woodland walking of the forest; replete with dells and groves all connected by myriad winding paths, it's woodland to lose yourself in.  

Moving in

This is a good sign. There used to be an active Badger sett here, although I've not seen a badger or any sign of one in maybe twenty years. It's a place we pass regularly and I've kept my eye open, though over the years the numerous entrances to their sett have become filled with season upon season of leaf litter and debris, now hardly visible. It's looking like a new clan could be moving it though.

Dockens Water

 

Dockens Water

The night conceals

 

'The night conceals the World, but reveals the universe.'

A lovely thought; and apt for the forest sky too.

Dry Winter

 

It's been a dry winter to date. Normally this time of the year the ground would yield easily underfoot, you'd be dodging mud and puddles, avoiding the forest's lowlands and considering where/if you'd be able to cross any of the streams; not so this year though.

Uber Water

I thought it would be a good idea to walk along Uber Water between the two Rhinefield/Cumber footbridges. It wasn't. It began nice and all, and for a good distance was easy pleasant grassy walking; then we entered the stretch where Duck Hole Bog bleeds into the stream, and it ended with me having to wade through Uber Water, then walking some distance barefoot through wet heath before I could put my boots back on. You know, I knew it would end like that too, experience told me so, and yet I continued knowing my route meant I couldn't backtrack. Chump.  

Dockens Water

Our walk this morning was our longest so far this year at 14.4 miles, and saw us ranging widely across the northern part of the forest; taking in the wonders on offer we roamed through open woodlands and formal plantation, exposed plains and sheltered lowland wet heath, and of course a number of babbling brooks. The view here is from Red Shoot Plain towards Dockens Water and Ibsley Common beyond. I've not walked this way for some years; it's good walking, with fine views across the Northwest of the forest and as far as the Ridgeways of Cranborne Chase and Wiltshire.

Ibsley Common WW2 monuments

 

The New Forest has had a long and varied history (and prehistory) of human activity, the evidence of which can be seen through a range of features from lumps and bumps in the ground to more substantial monuments. Here on Ibsley Common a pair of related Second World War monuments; the remnants of a World War Two Radio Direction Finding Station. The station, one of three spaced around the nearby Ibsley Airfield, all issued the same frequency, navigational aids allowing pilots to determined their position. The remains are a hexagonal blast wall for a long gone wooden tower, surrounded by small concrete blocks representing compass points, and the foundations of a rectangular brick building adjacent to an underground air raid shelter; the shelter used to be filled by rubble, although since I last passed this way it's been cleared. An interesting site.

MIstletoe

The forest's deciduous trees are still naked, making any clumps of Mistletoe visible from quite a distance. Have you ever seen Mistletoe like this though, it's host fades before it's glory; largest community I've seen. Wonderful.

Frogspawn

You're starting to see more frogspawn appearing in the forest's ponds and smaller waterways. It's amazing the volumes of spawn produced, made me wonder how many frogs there were out there; so I looked into it. A female frog can produce 4,000 eggs in a season, so you'd imagine healthy communities, sadly no, across the UK Common Frog populations which began falling in the 70's have declined 68% in the last 30 years. Bit of a bummer.

Crocus

With the fading days of winter upon us, the vibrant colours of spring are beginning to shine through, colours made even more vivid in the muted hued landscape winter leaves in it's wake.

Elephant or Rhino?

What do you see? An elephant or a Rhino? Or maybe something else.

A change of tune

 

The times they are a changing, and the nature of birdsong has definitely changed in recent days; gone are the subdued mournful songs of winter, songs much brighter are being sung in the canopy today. There's an air of anticipation and excitement amongst the chorus; I feel it too, I think we all do, Spring approaches, the game is nearly on.

Gravelly rumble

 

I was surprised when we reached the cliff top this morning to see that beyond the last few meters the sea was near still, quite the contrast to what I expected; you could hear the gravelly rumble of the waves rushing the beach from the common, a mile or so away. The wind must've been blowing in the right direction or something.

Dalek geoglyph

 

This rare prehistoric geoglyph of a Dalek left by a long gone ancient nomadic people is surely evidence of alien visitation. Come on, it's gotta be?

Full Moon

Full moon

Nothing to see here

 

Cranes Moor is on the eastern edge of the Forest, a beautiful landscape of lowland and wet heath with islands capped with coniferous clumps. Not so long ago overhead cables blighted this view, nothing to see here now though. Recently the creosoted poles taken down, the cabling having been removed, and the views are all the better for it. Lovely.

Gone

 

Relic of a bygone age, a remnant of an integrated mass transit system the like of which we can only dream of enjoying today, and yet one we so desperately need. Even after Beeching cut this line in the 60's I remember in my childhood an integrated public transport network of buses and trains that allowed for effective and affordable travel around the country; sadly the trajectory since then for public transport has been one of death by a thousand cuts. Made me think more broadly about how much our society's lost; or more accurately what we once enjoyed, the things we used to take for granted, the raft of public services, the culture, the communities and a myriad of opportunities; we were rich by so many metrics. Time's not been kind to our society though has it, it's a much thinner space we navigate today.

Imbolc

 

Right on cue the new shoots of spring break on through.

Imbloc blessing y'all /|\ 

Blase

 

We live with beauty on our doorstep, still it's so easy to become blasé about your surroundings isn't it, taking them for granted and failing to appreciate their qualities; familiarity breeds complacency/contempt maybe? I sometimes find myself looking to walk somewhere, anywhere, else except on my doorstep; and when I get like that I reach for a specific memory to remind me. Years ago whilst chatting in a post Office in Cornwall, the local I was conversing with on discovering where we'd come from began to wax lyrical about their holidays to Highcliffe and how they love the place, listing numerous positive points; and it struck me that they were the same enthusiastic tones I'd use waxing lyrically about our much loved trips to Cornwall; made me look at the many blessings of our home roam differently, appreciatively.  Sometimes I still need reminding.

The Run

Living by the coast in an area seasonally popular with tourists you have to share; half a year belongs to the 'grockles' and the other half is ours, I'm happy to share, I don't begrudge them. We've until Easter to take advantage of the empty beaches, and no matter what the weather a walk on the beach is guaranteed to be glorious.

Alder carr

 

Alder (Alnus glutinosa) carr is common along some stretches of the forest's streams; take a closer look and you'll often spot that many of these trees show evidence of past coppicing, a common forestry practice. Back in World War Two the forest's Alder was called to national service, and were mass harvested in order to be turned into high grade charcoal for the 40 million gas masks required to protect the nation...that's a lot of charcoal. Charcoal production is one of the oldest of the forest industries, an important activity it was practiced throughout history; a tradition which continues in the forest today, albeit on a vastly reduced scale today at Pondhead.

Holmhill

 

Holmhill woods

Spreads

The marshy regions where the forest's streams are born are known as 'spreads' or 'collects'; often out on the open heath and always amongst the stands muddled `carr woodland is present, especially where the streams first form proper. These always feel some of the wilder places in the forest, uncomfortable regions to navigate, wet, tangled and fraught with obstacles, fallen trunks and boot sucking quagmire; best avoided, though at the same time oozing with allure, their magic seems to draw you in. They represent an aspect of the timeless landscape of fairy tale and myth. Where do myths start, maybe it was an inherent magic that first led our prehistoric ancestors to favour these wet areas for ritual and ceremony; maybe how you experience such places is an echo of genetic memory, my ancestors reminding me of the sacred nature these places held in their world view. Maybe.

Denny's all opened up

Denny enclosure's all opened up, swathes of mainly coniferous woodlands have been clear cut and the ground they stood completely cleared and graded; I'm excited to see how this landscape regenerates; the face of the forest is changing all over. This morning Denny enclosure's heathland restoration reminded me of the days on the Newbury bypass in the mid 90's; a damp and dank misty day, smoke from debris fires hanging is the air, and clumps of spared trees silhouetted on a scoured landscape; except today was devoid of people and machines, and the works being undertaken were for restorative rather than destructive ends. 

Sunset

 

It's good to feel the days slowly lengthening.  

Icicle falls

Our route this morning took us along the narrow meanderings of Bratley Water  as it snakes it's way through North Oakley and Smokey Hole before joining Blackersford Brook; I love the young forest streams, there's a particular feel of wilderness to them that I enjoy.  As I said yesterday, winter's far from done and that's nowhere more apparent that out here in the forest where Jack still reigns supreme. In places the puddle ice remains 30/40mm thick, even the edges and deeper pools in the meander bends retain a thin icy frosting, and where woodland debris congregates to form natural dams those dams are turned into sculptures of ice and icicle. Very nice too.

Stirring

 

Although even the most cursory glance outside will tell you (if you weren't already aware) that winter's grip is far from loosening, the landscape slowly wakes as Imbolc approaches; in the belly of the land the future stirs as above the first heralds of spring break through.

Old Harry Rocks and one of the Pinnacles

At the furthest east point of the Purbeck Ridge are Old Harry Rocks and the Pinnacles; if you look east in the distance you'll just see The Needles and The Isle of Wight, once these two chalk headlands would've been joined as a continuous chalk ridge. If you know Purbeck and you ever visit to the The Isle of Wight you'll spot the similarity in geology and environment immediately.

Studland beach

You know it must be bloody cold out when Jack Frost is able to leave his mark on the salty environment of coastal sands; but this morning he did, and in spades. Nice out though, and as usual with an early start on our outward stretch we had the beach to ourselves. It was an early start too, as yet again the chain ferry between Sandbanks to South Haven Point is out of action and we had the long drive around Poole Harbour (25 miles or so); the ferry was supposed to be back running weeks ago after a service, although it was badly damaged on it's journey to Falmouth for aforementioned service so wont return until the end of February at the earliest. It's fated to troubles, man, it seems to have suffered issue after issue in recent years.

Ever changing, though always staying the same

 

It's fascinating to watch the gravel banks of the forest's streams shift and morph through the seasons every year. Gravel crossing points and banks disappear or change sides, making navigating my usual routes impossible, only to re-emerge months later in the same spot or a few meters down stream; some can vanish for years and then reappear, it's as if even though the elements are constantly in motion there's a default setting to which the stream inevitably returns. I watched as over a couple of months the ebb and flow of the Red Rise Brook moved a stream of gravel across the water course from one side to the other, up onto the bank, across a bulge in the bank and deposited back in the stream on the other side. I know though that by the end of spring all the crossing points I've traditionally utilized will be where they've always been.

Little Egret

Approaching behind cover Geoff and I managed to creep up on a Little Egret (Egretta garzetta) chilling on the banks of Red Rise Brook, or at least I believe it to be a Little Egret not an Egret Egret. We would've got closer but Geoff  broke cover like a chump, though luckily I had my camera ready at hand and grabbed my best shot yet (still piss poor I know) of this flighty bird. Over the last few years Egrets and Herons have become a familiar sight along this stretch of stream, a testament to the health of the waterway.

Chilly bottom

 

Parky out. Gone is the soaked forest all soggy underfoot, gone are the waterlogged paths and puddles; well, not gone, more transformed. Overnight the temperature dropped significantly and we arrived this morning to find the forest dusted in white frost, the ground hard under foot, and the paths traversing Clay Hill Bottom no longer a series of narrow streams now turned into treacherous tracks of icy glass requiring a jazz hands walking stance. Quite the transformation.  

Still there!

Wow, the discarded running shoes I commented on at the beginning of the month are still there! Very odd indeed; surely they'd have been returned for.

Uncanny Avengers

Being laid up with covid (11 boring days testing positive) in the box room, no TV or computer, watching old television comedy and stuff on the YouTube via a phone screen (how young folks do that shit as the norm is beyond me) I leaned heavily into reading, a highlight of which was volume 1 of the Uncanny Avengers. Uncanny Avengers Vol.1 covers issues 1 through 25 (2012-2015) and includes the stories: The Red Shadow, The Apocalypse Twins, Ragnarok Now, Average the Earth and Axis prelude in just over 700 pages. Written throughout by Rick Remender, who for my money is one of the finest comic writers/storytellers of our time, Uncanny Avengers Vol. 1 is superhero storytelling at it's very best; Remender's writing is magnificently complemented by the fantastic artwork of pencillers John Cassaday, Daniel Acuña and Steve McNiven, the crisp lines of inker John Dell and the beautiful colour palette of colourist Laura Martin who combined created quite the dilemma; the writing had you eager to turn the page, although the sumptuous artwork had you lingering as you soaked up all the detail. The story includes and extensive list of heroes and villains and takes place after the events of AVX with Captain America offering Havok the lead in a new Avengers unity team; I'm tempted to wax lyrically about what happens next but that would be a spoiler fest, the twists, turns and surprises come thick and fast as the story races along at a fair pace and is best read first hand. What I can say though is that I can't recommend this run highly enough, this is the good shit.

Wetter

 

I return to blogging after a covid hiatus to find my forest roams in a similar state to that which they were before I left, wet. Well, to be honest it would be more accurate to describe them as wetter. This is the highest the water's reached at the Dames Slough bridge for a while. Days of what's seemed like near endless rain sees the forest's stream corridors inundated, becoming broad linear lakes snaking between the stands, whilst the rivulets and drains that feed them have all broken their banks their wet fingers spreading out amongst the trees, even some of the forestry tracks have been made impassible or at least difficult to negotiate due to lengths of running/standing water. What I'm try to say is the forest's bloody wet.

How queer!

 

What appear a serviceable, if not good nick, pair of Evadict mt2 trail running shoes (About £80) discarded in the forest; not near a car park, or on a track or anywhere else you could envisage changing then forgetting/losing your shoes, but on the edge wet heathland/bogland at the base of Markway Hill near Stag Brake. How queer. I can't imagine the story here; why they would've been abandoned is beyond me. Another forest mystery.

Perpetually in flower

Perpetually in flower, at any time of the year somewhere in the forest the Gorse (Ulex) is flowering and adding colour to the landscape.