Utter dickery

The utter dickery of folk never ceases to astound me! Some plum (or plums) has built a fire against one of the Sanctuary's trees...what a remarkable lack of cognition. Fortuitously, by luck rather than judgement, not too much damage has been done to the poor tree. Where did we go so wrong that we forgot how to use the fundamental tools which were foundational in the human journey? Of course, it may have been they just didn't give a toss, wilful ignorance is certainly in vogue. Though I like to believe it's more a naïvety, for which I blame a lack of socialization to bushcraft or survival skills, due to our belief in the infallibility of modernity and our dominion over nature...silly monkeys. You know, we could have those believes seriously tested if we carry on our current trajectory. How many people know how to build and feed a fire, the different tinders or methods of igniting them or the properties of individual woods in relation to fire...or anything else for that matter. That's just the tip of an enormous lost essential knowledge iceberg too. How to read landscapes and skies, navigation, flora and fauna, medicinal plants, hunting and foraging, acquiring water, building shelter, and so much more all gone from our collective consciousness. We've lost all the basic survival skills which for thousands of years were innate to our ancestors. Is it any surprise we're lost too, so disconnected from the world that sustains us.

The Sanctuary

I was chatting to the guy, Steve, who created and maintains/extends what I've previously called Burley Old Clearing, and I asked him what he calls his creation, he replied...The Sanctuary.  So, the Sanctuary it is. More apt than the 'clearing' anyway.

Weird weather

I started our walk this morning layered up, braced against a sharp wind which raked the holms, though by the time we'd reached Red Rise (a mile into our walk) I was down to a t shirt...and comfortable with it. Often I'll take time in Burley Old and spend 20 minutes or so practising with my staff (come on now!), today the stands of were unnaturally warm, so much so that after this morning's session I was actually sweating. That's not the norm for the end of the second trimester of autumn. Nice as these unseasonable days may feel, throughout this year, weather wise, it's become increasingly difficult at times to be certain of what month or season you're in...and that ain't right. 

Fallow doe

A curled up fallow doe, it's a deceptive photo. In truth the Deer's badly injured, most likely the victim of a vehicle on the A31...only a few hundred meters away. Injured animals are sadly an all too familiar sight on or near the forest roads, scores of animals (ponies, cows, pigs, donkeys, deer) are either killed or injured on the forest's roads every year. It's a very sad state of affairs, that never appears to improve. I had no idea how long it had laid injured, there was little we could do other than phone the forestry, give a description and grid reference; they said they'd pass on the information to the agisters and asked if we could wait for 5/10 minutes just in case the agister needed to speak to me. We waited, standing a ways back, out of sight line of the deer. Several of the ponies grazing around us, moved in to investigate, closer and closer, their noses probing...until the deer raised it's head they jumped back. Weirdly they stared at Geoff and I, as if accusingly. I told them it wasn't us, though I imagine the homo sapien/canine combo comes with uncomfortable connotations to most animals. Half an hour passed and no call from the agister. By now the doe was still, her only movements were shallow breaths, she wouldn't suffer much longer. I decided to move on, there was nothing more to do, and I didn't want our presence in any way to add to her suffering. I petitioned the goddess to grant the doe a swift passage to the summer lands to join the herds of her forebears, and sombrely disappeared into the nearby stands.

Soarley Bottom

 Soarley Bottom*

 *You can get a cream for that. 

Ac-Cep-table

I've found it a slow season for mushrooms, an unusual year for fungi all round, the mushrooms have been doing weird stuff...appearing when they shouldn't and not when they should. It's still unusually dry out there now, and the temprature's all over the place. You have seasons that are better than others, some worse and others non starters. So in recent years, until I've got a handle on how the seasons shaping up, I tend to dry all the Ceps I collect. I feel you get better bang for your buck, so to speak, by drying them and using them crushed up through the winter in soup, stew etc. Top flavouring, and it's a better use of the resource too. Over the last couple of weeks I've collected a few Ceps here and a few there, and now have an ac-cep-table dried store to carry me through.

Red Rise risen

After last night's rain Red Rise Brook was for the most part impassable this morning, it's environs an extension of the stream itself. It's sooo wellie weather. I wonder how long it'll last though? The ground is still so dry that despite temporary puddling in places, and the water quickly drains off the surrounding landscape, whisked away in no time. That'll all change when the forest softens up, it'll hold onto the water much longer then, making certain routes problematic for lengthy periods.

Full Moon

 

I've been marking the full Moon with a fire for decades. Occasionally the weather tries to thwart my plans, in which case I cut my coat according to my cloth. Tonight was one of those nights. The weather wizards had predicted sustained rain, and as the sun sank so the clouds rolled in and the air told you rain was approaching and the wizards were right. So tonight I marked the full Moon with a small fire in my Ghillie base. It was lovely out. Half an hour passed and I stopped feeding the fire, as the flames died so the rain began to fall, and it wasn't long before it was lashing down. Perfect timing.

Bushy Bratley

Bushy Bratley

Mind food

 The recent rain and cooler nights have brought out the mind fruit.

 

Sound of autumn

 The sounds of Red Rise Brook on an autumn morning.

The long house

The Long House in Burly Old.

Minotaur beetle

A male Minotaur beetle (Typhaeus typhoeus), cool spot.

Art for art's sake pt2

 

As promised part 2 of the wonderful new pieces of graffiti on the circular water reservoir atop St Catherine's Hill. The light was right this morning to capture the remaining pieces of art, and I think you'll agree, these are some fantastic works here. You know, I was talking to another dog walker, waxing lyrically about how cool it is to see colourful graffiti, how it brightens what are dull industrial buildings and should be encouraged, and celebrated, she said there'd been complaints about it! What? Why? What's wrong with folk?

Spy Holms barrow

There are four Bronze Age barrows (two loose pairs) on Spy Holms, roughly dating from around 2000 to 1500 BC, of which the barrow in the photo would've been the biggest. Although centuries of forestry have no doubt destroyed many, there are still 2000 or so Bronze Age barrows surviving on the New Forest's heaths.  We have the builders of these barrows, and their Neolithic forebears, to thank for the landscape we see today. It was they who originally cleared the land for farming, only to find the soils too poor to sustain agriculture, though perfect for the development of heathland. It's difficult to identify which type of barrow it originally was, thousands of years of the elements and wildlife have somewhat slighted what must have been a substantial and important burial mound, though I'd suggest it was a bowl barrow. 

 

 

Red Rise Furze Brake

As the year winds down so the colour slowly drains from the forest, verdance gives way to the subtler golden hues of Autumn. This is particularly evident as you take the path down Rock Hills with it's views over Red Rise Furze Brake.

 

Rutting time

Rutting continues in the forest and this year I'm seeing scrapes in parts of the forest I've not traditionally seen them. I don't know why that is. Maybe they're due to an increased number of competing stags this year? I considered whether it was a sign of a growing overall deer population, though quickly dismissed that as the current population is held at around 2000 (Fallow, Roe, Red, Sika and Muntjac) by regular culling. Then I thought, maybe it's a sign of displacement due to increased numbers of visitors the forest has seen over Covid. A couple of years ago I commented to a ranger that I felt I saw more deer these days than I remember back in the 90's, and she told me it was more a change in deer behaviour driven by the increase in visitors. That said, I've noticed a huge reduction in people out in the forest over the last few months, since 'freedom day', their effects may still be rippling through the forest though. Mind you we tend to keep away from the honey pots. 

Cep

A couple more every day.

 

Another late arrival

We saw our first Parasol mushrooms (Macrolepiota procera) this morning out amongst the heather of Spy Holms. Two nice fresh examples of a good size too. Another mushroom arriving outside of it's usual season, which for Parasols is June to September; I know it's not uncommon to see them in October, or them to still pop up, though it's not common for them to make their first appearance this late in the year.

Red Rise

You could tell we've had some rain, the floor of Red Rise bordering the stream is scoured clean, all the leaves and small twigs gone. Where the ground's so dry in no time the water would've raced off the land, quickly overwhelming the stream and swept through the stands. When this happens the waters scour a filigree of small channels through the woodland, over time these small channels can deepen and broaden into more significant seasonal watercourses. 

On point

 

It's 'supposedly' mushroom season though the forest is still too dry, that said I've had a couple or three a day for a couple of days now, so, slowly slowly catchee monkey and all that. It is slow going mind. Geoff's very patient, keeping watch as I potter, always on point.

Red Rise Brook

Red Rise Brook. 

Red Rise

 

Some of my favourite tracts of forest woodland are those unenclosed stands which border the enclosures or flank the forest's streams. Red Rise is one of those tracts. I like the enclosed mosaic plantations, and love the lapsed patterns of the older enclosures, though the organic nature of the unenclosed woodland calls me differently.  

Burley Old

 

Burley Old

Pale Tussock Caterpillar

Pale Tussock (Calliteara pudibunda) caterpillar.

Bumper haws

It's a bumper season for haws; definitely a success in what's been a thin year for many wild fruits and nuts. I've not seen a Hawthorn that hasn't been laden with pillar box red berries. Tree lore says, that a good crop of haws means a hard winter to come, they'll provide the forest's birds with a welcome meal then.

Art for art's sake pt1

 

Some wonderful new pieces of graffiti on the circular water reservoir atop St Catherine's Hill. I could only capture some of the works this morning due to the bright sunlight on half the reservoir, so this is part one, with part two to follow at a later date. I'm in awe of these artists, the medium, the canvas, the environment, all difficult, and create such pieces...I doff my cap.

Viva la France

 Viva la France!

 

What time do you call this?

 

What time do you call this? Chicken of the Woods (Laetiporus sulphureus) is commonly found between May and August, a popular edible* bracket fungus, it's distinctive orange/ivory colour makes it hard to miss or misidentify. Of course, care should always be taken when collecting wild foods, and if in doubt...don't. To find fresh young fruits like this towards the end of September is quite an unusual occurrence. It's been a strange year for Chicken of the Woods, I saw scant signs of it through May to August, though now there are fresh clumps bursting out all over the place. The chaotic elements this year have played havoc with natures routines.

 (*although can cause stomach upset)

Full Moon

The wheel turns and a full Moon rises once more.

Brinken Wood

 

The deer are becoming skittish as rutting season begins. Although for the most part near invisible, Brinken Wood was alive with deer. Like Mythagos you might catch one out of the corner of your eye as they move deftly through the clutter of juvenile trees and waste high bracken, though you can hear their movement all around you, and the roar of competing stags echoes through the stands. An exciting time in the forest calender.

Tree skeleton

Traditionally the standard practice was to remove deadwood from the managed enclosures of the New Forest on the grounds of woodland hygiene. They stopped that practice 30 years ago?, I don't know, years back anyway. As a consequence tree skeletons now litter many of the forest's stands, with new recruits gathered to their cause with each storm wind.

Black

It was early when we set out, the forest was dour and still blanketed grey, which suited my mood,...this morning I was Jonny Nice Painter. I trudged down Rock Hills towards a misty Red Rise feeling sorry for myself, trailing a grey cloud of my own creation. Through the gorse clumped landscape of Red Rise Furze Brake we reached the open woodland of Red Rise Shade and the stream; Geoff never says no to water, and insists on doing his dog-odile impression, just his eyes above the water with his nose blowing bubbles. Funny bugger. The stands were illuminated by a diffuse light, a hidden sun shone through the thinning veil of autumn mist, giving the scene a magical air... lovely. You can understand why our ancestors held streams and wet places in high regard. I stood breathing it all in, taking some time to tune into the forest, the sights, sounds and smells of the surrounding woodland. Tranquillity reigned through Red Rise, quiet and still other than the babbling stream and an occasional bird. I could've settled it, though we were on a mission, so after a while we said farewell to the stream and moved off towards Burley Old and the wider forest beyond. Standing there I must have inhaled some of that tranquillity,  as walking off I felt lighter, my mood lifted and my demeanour completely changed. Powerful medicine nature, fast acting too.

Seasonal wear

 

The latest autumn fashion on display in the forest this morning; this juvenile Oak is wearing this seasons Ent must have, a very nice (once) lined Animal jacket, perfect for out and about in the colder months. Funny the things you come across whilst out walking. Each has a story to tell.

Saved by centimetres

This veteran Beech (fagus) was saved by mere centimetres, a casualty of ravenous ponies short of food, she'd be a goner like dozens of her sisters if completely ringed.  A consequence of too many ponies for the forest to sustain, and the equine owners not providing supplementary food. The number of ponies has risen from around 1300 in the mid fifty's to near 5000 today, that's a lot of pressure on the forest. You'll see evidence of gnawing like this on individual Beech trees all over the forest, although Mark Ash is by far the worst cluster I know, so many beautiful trees slighted, in such a picturesque tract of the forest too.