Burley Old

An early morning walk through Burley Old never fails to hit the spot, it's such a wonderful woodland, and without a doubt my most visited forest spot. This morning I mused on how much this parcel of much loved enclosed woodland, one of the New Forests' oldest enclosures, has changed over the last 40 years, and yet amongst all the changes how timeless it's feel remains. Love it.

Camel Green

Our walk along Highland Water was particularly lovely this morning, especially through Camel Green...it's one of those forest spots where the magic of the woodland is most pronounced. We stopped awhile by the stream, we were out early and had the woodland to ourselves...sublime! I took the opportunity, as I frequently do, to take some time to connect and run through some Awens. Lately I've taken to running though a couple of yoga poses (ragdoll, transitioning to mountain, a couple of forward bend/tabletop/forward bends, finishing in mountain) beforehand, and have found then beneficial in my focusing and breathing pre chant. I love the calm clarity afterwards, especially your hearing, as if you're listening to the woodland in super high definition. A standing mediation in a beautiful, and beautifully lit, woodland with the earth below me, sky above me and water running at my feet...perfect.

Sea of oak

Tens of thousands of tiny sapling oaks carpet the floor of Brinken Wood, they're quite the sight. I hope they're to left to their own devices, I like the idea of a dense thicket of juvenile oaks, I'll watch their progress with interest.

Vinney Ridge

Where Dames Slough Hill abuts Vinney Ridge.

Fletchers Water

 

I've got grainy video of our children swinging out over what was a fairly broad, and for the most part straight, forest stream, deep enough in parts to make swinging out over it safe-ish, though not deep enough to pose too much of a risk. We spent many happy hours wandering and exploring it's banks and wider environs, often returning to the car wet. Then ten years ago they restored Fletchers Water to it's pre-Victorian course; I'll admit that at the time I wasn't happy about the change, though now naturalizing so beautifully, it's a really lovely stretch of forest stream.  Agreeable as the old Fletchers Water was, you'd not recognize it as the same place. 

The Gatekeeper

Our garden's full of Gatekeepers (Pyronia tithonus) at the moment.

Highland Water

Highland Water, Great Huntley Bank.

Summer woodland

Sad as it is to see leviathans fall, time and the elements have opened up Burley Old beautifully. Fallen trees have created holes in the canopy, below where the woodland floor has subsequently greened, the effect, a wonderful patchwork of woodland glades.

Avon Water crater

When they restored this section of Avon Water between Holmsley station and Wootton Bridge, the new course of the stream cut through what I believe to be a Second World War bomb crater (it exhibits all the characteristics and is adjacent to the old railway line, which would've been a wartime target). The restoration has brought the old bomb crater to life. The crater used to be seasonally wet, though for the most part quite the dank lifeless hole, now it's part of a rich and verdant developing wetland/carr woodland environment.  You'd be surprised at how many World War Two bomb craters pock the forest, not all of them the result of the enemy either.

Beautiful Erica

Purpley pink now dresses the forests' heaths as the Bell Heather blooms.

Lakewood

 

The underlying Eocene clays have traditionally ensured that the Highcliffe area has been wet, crossed by rivulets, pocked with ponds, generally soft under foot and prone to standing water during the wet seasons. Before settling on Highcliffe-on-Sea one of the village's names was Slop Pond, you can understand why they changed it, even if the latter is descriptively appropriate.  Lakewood is one of the remaining ponds; a good sized pond with a small island, one half surrounded with what's left of the woodland the pond was set in up to the 80's housing expansion, the other grass and open mature/veteran trees, nice. Recently some local fishy folks have cleared the pond out of clogging mud, detritus natural and otherwise, and choking flora; they've restored the banks and restocked the water with good sized fish which lurk just visible in the murky waters. A nice spot to visit on our local walks. An amazing nature oasis.

Church Bottom morning

The weather wizards had forecast scorchio for the entire day, so Geoff and I got out walking early this morning, and by 0700 we were over 3 miles out into the Chase. The mist still hung in the folds that empty into Church Bottom, and already it was hot enough to have me sweating. We did 11.7 miles overall, beginning at Vitrell Gate, along the Ackling Dyke, descending through Church Bottom, crossing the Ebble Valley, up over Stoke Down, along the Old Shaftesbury Drove, back down to the Ebble Valley retracing our outward route back to Vitrell Gate. It was a good move too, getting out early, by the time we got back to the car around 10.00 and it was sweltering.

Common Broomrape

Common Broomrape (Orobanche minor), a plant which reflects beauty and ugly in equal measure. It's been a good year for them. The narrow strip of old woodland alongside Hinton Avenue has been full of Broomrape, usually you'll see a handful here and there though this year they've carpets small areas. I don't know if that's a good sign or not, Broomrape's a parasitic plant. It's an odd one too, no leaves, just a flowering spike protruding from the ground.

Dog people

If you walk locally with a dog you'll quickly become 'dog people', a cadre of people who, for the most part, are known by their canine companion's name. Sometimes a nod, a wave from a distance, small talk or even occasionally longer exchanges bind us. I have to admit I dig it. Life's a collection of infinite stories, and I love to hear them. Through talking my community feels more alive somehow, populated now by real characters rather than a nebulous homologous neighbour, and many have a story they want to tell...and I'll listen. For another time maybe. For now though, I'd had a chat this morning with an elder who always stops and tells me her story through unconnected piece, like slowly doing a jigsaw. Anyway, as we wished each other a good day, she turned and said 'thank you for talking to me'. I told her that it was my pleasure.  But, man, as I walked off emotion captured me, for this wasn't the first time, by far, that a local elder spoke those exact words...and every time they land like unintended punches. As for that short sentence to be common parlance, we must genuinely be losing our humanity.

Burley Old

The root bole in the centre background, seen from between the root boles of a recently toppled conjoined Oak and Beech, has been there for at least 30 years and is now entirely hollow. Walking land over an extended period of years allows a glimpse at forest time. The divided Oak and Beech were only slighted during late spring (the bottom photo was taken back in May), the oak falling and blocking one of the woods well used winding paths; in fact both trees were veteran trees of a good height, and have formed a formidable barrier in the woodland...and will do for decades to come. Some kind soul has cut through the tangle of roots, filled the hole and created a narrow passage through what was impassable mess, and now the woodland path flows once more. Nice.

Endor

 Today our walk was on the forest moon of Endor.

Red Rise Brook

The forest has afforded me much respite from life's pressures of late. Of course nature always does, it's her way, she always gives you the space you need to unwind and the peace you need to think through stuff. Sometimes that aspect of the walk goes unacknowledged, whilst at other times you feel her soothing embrace so keenly, today it was the latter. 

Hidden paths

 

Walking the Common's myriad paths at this time of year you need to be a believer, to have faith that the path exists and you're not just stumbling off into the undergrowth. The annual excess of summer growth has choked the place with a sea of verdant bracken raising to 6 or 7 feet. I love it like this. Although, the downside is you're assured of a soaking if you walk here early in the morning or shortly after a downpour.  

Left behind

 

Spend any time walking in nature, especially the same roams regularly, and you quickly become acclimatized to her characteristic textures and forms, becoming more aware of anything out of place, especially anything man made. Geoff and I were storming through the open mature oak stands of Dames Slough Hill, when off at quite a distance something incongruous caught my eye. I stopped and backed up, and there tucked in the root flares of a mossy trunk was what looked like a yellow cane... you regularly come across coloured canes in the forest, part of, or remains of, some survey or other. Closer inspection identified this as a orienteering station post, minus station....no doubt left in err.  It reminds me that although for 99% of our walks we have the forest, or at least the tract we're walking to ourselves, it all goes on in the forest.

Spinning seeds

I thought the filigree of the Pappus gave the impression that the seeds were spinning. Cool.

Regal fail

There was nothing regal about either of these deliveries through Royal Mail. Yesterday I received a vinyl album package marked 'Fragile' with a chunk taken out of it; the outer sleeve was mauled and effectively ruined, lovely artwork too, and the inner sleeve was ripped, though thankfully the vinyl itself was unscathed and played perfectly. Good job too, as the album has sold out! Unbelievable. Then this morning  another package arrived, a graphic novel I'd sough. My package arrived inside a cable tied Royal Mail bag, no explanation or ought, the package in the bag covered in goo, upon opening the inner package I found the afore mentioned goo had leaked inside.... and graphic novel too had been ruined whilst in the care of the Royal Mail! Pretty rubbish.

Highland Water

 

Highland Water, a dream in green at Queen Bower.

Which season?

Remind me again which season are we in. It could easily have been the tail end of summer or the beginning of a wet autumn...wet was the overriding theme of our walk this morning. I wouldn't normally expect the forest to be like this until mushroom season, September say. The Red Rise Brook was impassable at all my usual crossing points, and eventually I ended up rolling my shorts up, short shorts style and simply wading through...my boots had been breached and become sodden a mile or so ago.

Clouds

Nice clouds this morning.

Reclamation

Nature's exploding all over. Looking along the railway tracks from the old foot bridge it was almost as if it's wooded environs were straining to to consume them. Without regular human intervention I don't think it would take too many years before the rails were unnavigable, and only a few more until their course would disappear into thicket and jumbled shrub. I'll often wonder what the works of man would look like abandoned, and how long they'd take to be consumed by nature. It's a comfort in a way in light of our climate crisis, that it's not really the planet we're trying to save (such a human-centric perspective), it's our tenure on it, and if we fail it's us that'll be beyond saving. The planet, flora and fauna will all adapt and evolve, they'll all be just fine, different, but fine. Reassuring, really.

Cranemoor Common

Cranemoor Common is another of our local commons. Cranemoor is shown on older maps to have once extended beyond the railway line to the A35; that land is under the plough today and the remaining common runs along the urban side of the tracks, an interface between the suburban sprawl of Walkford/Highcliffe and the rural landscape which borders the New Forest.  Like the other pockets of common in the area it's an interesting and diverse environment, with a small stream, a pond, set in mixed woodland and niche habitats...also like many of it's fellow common pockets, it can have a peculiar, somewhat unnerving, vibe to it at times.

Sunset

It's been a while since I last enjoyed a sunset, they've either amounted to little, been obscured by cloud or I've simple not registered their passing. Tonight’s was only caught by chance, a glance up from reading and....wow! A flame coloured sky filled the horizon, it times of old no doubt a portent or sign. I wonder what sunsets were like say 4000 years ago. A period when Britain enjoyed a much fairer climate and if the proliferation of stone settings linked to astronomical events suggests anything, then a much clearer sky too. No pollution either. I'd imagine pollution must have a significant effect on the skies/sunrises/sunsets we see. Another date for the time machine. 

Highcliffe

We were up and out early this morning, so there were few folk about, leaving us the beach to walk by ourselves...we did 9.3 miles today. Before descending to the sands we paused, even though I pass this way with some regularity, I was still struck by the view... especially on a beautiful morning like this. Lovely.

In the summertime

 Traditional English summer... just add water.

Ooh!

Ooh! That's not a regular sight, a Deer in the central parcel of Chewton Common, in 25 years this is only the third I've seen. The first was 20 years ago, and this one happens to be the second in a week.  Last week one of the dog people told me he'd seen a large deer crossing the road that transects the common, so Geoff and I were particularly deft and vigilant as we wove the commons winding paths. It was Geoff who clocked the deer first and was off through the bramble choked thicket; the deer had more open ground behind it and soon was gone. I only caught a couple of glances as it disappeared in to thicket. Today's deer was not the same one, it was smaller, younger maybe. It didn't appear too fazed by our presence though, happy to check us out for a while before moving out of sight casually. The presence of a deer in the common highlights what I've mentioned before, that the pockets of common and strips of woodland create and act as wildlife corridors allowing animal movement through our urban intrusions into their natural world.

Bure Brook

Chewton Common isn't one parcel of land, it no doubt would've been, although by the 80's years of invasive development from Highcliffe and Walkford had reduced it to fragments of its former glory. The remaining fragments vary in size and exist in isolation, although only just so; through your minds eye though, you can imagine the common that was. Bure Brook runs through the north-eastern parcel of Chewton Common, still only an easy strides width at this point. Dry now, the surrounding woodland is seasonally wet and languishes mostly neglected, which is a shame as it's particularly florally diverse, a secret oasis. The trees in the photo stand on the bank of a small irregular sub rectangular enclosure, the origins of which I've no idea, some are couple of hundred years old which suggests the enclosure is older than that.  That's something for me to explore. 

 

Hare raising

 I don't remember a year when I've seen so many Hares.

Willow snow

The conditions have been perfect for wind dispersal, sunny and warm with a very gentle breeze, and for a few days now the seeds of the Common's numerous Willows (Salix) have filled the air. Willow's produce an inordinate amount of small fluffy seeds only a couple of millimetres long, they're so prodigious that the seeds can fill the air for days and once grounded they gather like drifts of fluffy snow on the sides of the Common's narrow paths. A lovely seasonal happening.

Ridgeway

Cranborne Chase again this morning, the Ox Drove above the Ebble Valley to be precise. 11.7 miles of stunning views. Not a soul in sight either. Well, beyond a convoy of 'off roaders' (think Fast Show) rumbled past, but that was a momentary intrusion. This is a magical landscape, it's call is timeless and intoxicating. Our earliest ancestors were drawn to it, their lives and those of subsequent settlers still mark the land through 5000 years of activity and monument. Where ever your eyes fall, barrows, ancient banks, boundaries, historic through to modern buildings pock the landscape, and none appear out of place, all should be there. This is a landscape shaped almost entirely by human hand, yet it's still nature who holds dominion really, it's we who dance to her tune. Yeah, we think we've primacy, but nature's in it for the long haul, and knows she'll out live our kind. So in the meantime she's come to an accommodation with us, and our majestic landscapes are the result. Recommended walking.

Verditch

The green world of Verditch Chase.

Purbeck

The day was set to be a fine one, and so this morning it was off to Purbeck for us. We set off from Brenscombe Little Wood up the deep cut and winding rough track onto the downs of Brenscombe Hill, looking back as we rose we had views through the canopy across the Purbeck Forest and Poole harbour. From the downs your eyes are drawn westwards over the village of Corfe and on further along the Corfe Valley. We followed the ridge way towards Corfe, at Challow Hill we descended towards Corfe before hair-pinning back along the base of the hills. Our route was now was muddier than I'd anticipated, it's amazing how quickly these tracks will deteriorate after a bit of rain. So instead we followed the winding and undulating under-hill road for a mile or so before turning off to scale the steep chalk parh back up onto Nine Barrow Down. We sat a moment with the barrows before descending Brenscombe Hill returning to our starting point. Perfect.

Subway graffiti

The subway between Clayhill Heath and Whitely Wood sports a new piece of graffiti, or at least one I've not seen before. I was fairly certain I recognised the style as the same artist from the subway under the Christchurch to Lyndhurst road at Markway Hill, a white outline piece at the other end of the subway confirmed I was right. It's possible the same graffiti artist has created here for some years, the underlying and faded flower looks very similar in style to the white outlined piece.  Nice.