The light frost, present in the woods this week, crisping the grasses, dusting the gorse and capping the puddles with a crystal glaze, had matured to become hard frost. The ground tough under foot, ice reaching deep into the land; once thin ice on puddles, easy to break through, had become thick and unbreakable; even the thin creeklets had succumbed, now adorned by crazy patterned icy fringes, covering the entirety of its span in stretches. Navigating thin creeklets, forming on the brow of the higher heathland plateaus of Ocknell and Bratley plains, we made our way down a gentle valley; like mercury racing to join the whole, these shining wet paths hastened onward until they formed the nucleus of a creek proper. Still being joined by its kin this infant creek grew as it snaked through the icy landscape, amongst gravel beds and banks, trees and stumps. The gravels usually easy to scatter as you walked through them, today had become concreted by frost, firm, immovable, abrasive. Slowly the creek found itself, growing deeper, more sure of its course, confident in the path it was taking and why; bubbling and burbling as it travelled, it disappeared into denser woodland, later to become Linford Brook.
We made our way through thinning plantations where lumberjacks had been at work removing mature Pines, leaving the deciduous trees, returning the landscape to its natural heathland/woodland mix. The Milkham enclosure was originally enclosed in 1861, although like many others saw some of its Oaks, beeches and Chestnuts removed during the 60's in order to plant Pine; the deciduous trees planted in the 1800's became redundant with the development of steel vessels, no longer needed by the royal or merchant navies, Pine were planted for profit. With the Pine gone its good to see the land again.
The light frost, present in the woods this week, crisping the grasses, dusting the gorse and capping the puddles with a crystal glaze, had matured to become hard frost. The ground tough under foot, ice reaching deep into the land; once thin ice on puddles, easy to break through, had become thick and unbreakable; even the thin creeklets had succumbed, now adorned by crazy patterned icy fringes, covering the entirety of its span in stretches. Navigating thin creeklets, forming on the brow of the higher heathland plateaus of Ocknell and Bratley plains, we made our way down a gentle valley; like mercury racing to join the whole, these shining wet paths hastened onward until they formed the nucleus of a creek proper. Still being joined by its kin this infant creek grew as it snaked through the icy landscape, amongst gravel beds and banks, trees and stumps. The gravels usually easy to scatter as you walked through them, today had become concreted by frost, firm, immovable, abrasive. Slowly the creek found itself, growing deeper, more sure of its course, confident in the path it was taking and why; bubbling and burbling as it travelled, it disappeared into denser woodland, later to become Linford Brook.
We made our way through thinning plantations where lumberjacks had been at work removing mature Pines, leaving the deciduous trees, returning the landscape to its natural heathland/woodland mix. The Milkham enclosure was originally enclosed in 1861, although like many others saw some of its Oaks, beeches and Chestnuts removed during the 60's in order to plant Pine; the deciduous trees planted in the 1800's became redundant with the development of steel vessels, no longer needed by the royal or merchant navies, Pine were planted for profit. With the Pine gone its good to see the land again.
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