New Bridge

The old bridge over Dockens Water at Digden Bottom had seen better days, having slumped over the years, it was frequently to be found partly underwater, and unusable throughout wet periods, disappearing completely. This new bridge should allow for more reliable access, although talking to a passing local, this bridge too has been under water a few time recently.

Stag Party

Bratley

Timeless forest

The timeless forest, unchanged, unchanging or so it appears. Though, the forest is never standing still. Mighty wooden leviathans falter and succumb after a six hundred year tenure as a fresh sapling searches out light and warmth; the wheel of life forever turning.  Yet once you've shaken off the malaise of modernity, freed your mind some and tuned into the natural rhythms of the land, you feel as if time has lost its hold and you're in the presence of the eternal. 

Steamer pond

Another 44'

Another piece of '44 graffiti, this time from Mark Ash.

Backley Holmes

Highland snow

Throughout the forest, 3 days on, the snow persists, remaining virgin for the most part; other than the criss cross of animal tracks, all that betray activity in the subdued woods.  Usually invisible, it's great to be allowed this glimpse into an otherwise secret woodland world.  Highland Water cuts through the stands like a ribbon of ice, flowing so slowly as to be almost imperceivable.  Another blissful day in the woods.

Sounds of silence

The forest is quiet and still, an eerie silence clings to the land and one could be forgiven for believing nothing was happening, that the forest having come to a stand still. Far from it. Although every bough is bowed with yesterdays snow, now fixed in an icy embrace and powdery snow, easily 10cm and more blankets the land. The woodland is going about its business as usual, only today they're doing it a muffled landscape which absorbs their sounds.   In Brinken a huge herd of deer, 20 or more trot past 5m or so in front of us, we are as invisible to them as their approach was to us. A fox goes about its business in Great Huntley, usually you wouldn't see him, but for a glimpse maybe,  in the snow though his transit is easy to follow, that is until he spies us and disappears at speed. All the time birds are flitting by, alighting, flying and landing all in graceful silence. The only sound that persists throughout our walk is the unique sound of snow being compressed as we trudge through this winter wonderland, absorbing all its transient beauty.

Snowhere to run

Warwickslade Pool

Brinken Wood

Great Huntley Bank

The Common

When it snows, and the sky remains blanketed in clouds heavy with further flurries, light is effected in a strange way, creating an unreal landscape. A landscape which has had its saturation levels turned way down. There's something else too, something hard to describe; it's almost hyper real, there's a weird 3D or HD thing that goes on. Whatever, it's a thing I look forward to when it snows.

A river flows through it

Today Red Rise brook flows through a winter wonderland, every bough, every twig, every blade of grass cloaked in powdery snow, truly a sight to behold.  I felt all at once like a child, filled with excitement, with wonder and awe at natures beauty and ability to, again, transform the familiar into the unusual and magical.  A magic which overpowers the jaded, cynical malaise which can often shroud us.

Everywhere and snowhere

Spy Holms

Rock Hill

Red Rise Shade

Red Rise Brook

Burley Old

Old Nicks ground

Behind The Pinnacles and Old Harry, lies Old Nick’s Ground on which fortifications used to stand guard. During the Medieval period, Studland Castle, a Henrican fortification, stood facing foreign foes. Built during the same period as Portland and Brownsea, Studland Castle was long ago, back in 1770, claimed by the sea.  Later during the Second World War a observation bunker watched allied troops train for invasion, as Typhoon fighters loosed rockets from above on targets scattered across the down beyond.  It too is now gone, destroyed, post war.  Now a scene of tranquillity, one would pass never thinking such beauty had ever been the scene of such intense military activity.

Dune

Studland beach is broad and clear, the sea partaking in one of its daily retreats, laps lazily, more akin to a lake than the ocean, no waves to see, the dunes rise from the sandy plain, cut faces attest to winters storms, their covering of rough grass sweeps too and fro in an increasingly chill wind as a few thin clouds lay bands across a mainly clear blue sky. A day to be out and about.

Latchmoor Bottom

Latchmoor Brook runs clear and cold through the bottom, the ground beyond its Northern bank expansive mire before rising to Hampton Ridge and the last high ground of the forest.  The wet heathland in these parts is open and exposed, but for a few isolated, predominantly, Holly clumps, affording only minimal shelter. Clumps in which on past forays evidence of former Gypsy camps have been identified, camps from a period when roaming Gypsy families were synonymous with the forest, and their benders and vardo's a common sight. A group of deer watch are slow and laboured progress, thwarted in seemed at every turn, they stayed put, secure in their knowledge of the terrain and the safety that afforded them.

Tracks

Deep rutted tracks lead off in to Latchmoor Bottom, not certain of their date, but their close proximity to features associated with Ashley Ranges, could suggest they are contemporary.

Fallen sentry

One of the Dragons Teeth, World War Two anti tack obstacles, out of a line blocking a gully coming of Studland Beach has become dislodged and fallen on the obstacle below. I was surprised to see how flimsily these huge concrete blocks were secured to the ground; it would appear that beyond being sunken a few centimetres below the surface, all that held the concrete blocks in place where 2 crossed iron bars secured in the ground, around which the concrete had been poured.  It shouldn't really come as that much of a surprise, as the period of their construction was one of turmoil and limited resources; defences conceived and deployed in hast, in a make do and mend culture.  Looking at some of the other obstacles in the line, I fear more will follow if some restorative work is not carried out.

Old Harry Rocks

The Pinnacles

Jews Ear

The Jews Ear, most commonly found on ageing Elder trees, is a common edible fungi.  New growths of Jews Ears are found in January, unlike many other mushrooms, Jews Ears are not susceptible to frost, making them a handy resource when pickings are slim.  They are quite rubbery and lack much flavour, although they are good in a stew and readily absorb other flavours, cut thinly and fried they have similar texture to bacon rind. They also have medicinal applications. The Jews Ear has been used for thousands of years in the treatment of various conditions such as lung infections, hemorrhoid's, for cleansing stomach and intestines, blood thinning and modern examinations of their properties suggests they could have anti tumour, cardiovascular, antiviral, antibacterial and anti parasitic effects. This really is an amazing fungi and I have only scratched the surface of its medical application.  Well worth investigating.

As with many wild food stuffs, one should take care, there have been recorded cases of sensitive people eating too many Jews Ears and suffering internal bleeding.

Gnaw

You regularly see Holly trees with their bark stripped, the chisel marks left by hungry pony teeth clearly recognisable, but I can't remember seeing young Beech trees targeted. Walking through Mark Ash there are a noticeable number of gnawed Beech.  On the Holly the marks heal, the trunk scars and the tree continues to grow; you can see Holly with grown overs scars all over the forest. I don't though remembers ever noticing Beech with similar scarring.  One to keep my eye on.

Highland Water

There's been a stream theme running through recent walks. There's something magical, something spiritual about a stream, the waters of live flowing on their endless cycles, always in motion. No matter what the season, resting a while by a babbling brook, hidden in a woodlands embrace, is always guaranteed to bring one, moments peace and tranquillity.

Linford Brook

Erosion

In Studley Wood runs the early reaches of Latchmoor Brook, only just starting its journey, narrow, running through a deep cut gully, the deluges of recent months have had a noticeable effect, even on this small woodland stream. Erosion, slippages, trees slumped into and over the young watercourse are more common now; foot bridges have been destroyed, trees slighted.  Blockages and the inevitable influx of woodland detritus, will no doubt lead to the build up of dams, increased flooding and more change for this little brook and the stream it becomes.

Island Thorns

Rempstone

Rempstone, a truncated, once fair sized, Bronze Age stone circle which lays in woodland below Ailwood Down with its ridge crowned by 10 or more Bronze Age round barrows of varying sizes forming a linear cemetery known as Nine Barrow Down. 

Pinnick

Amongst the mighty Oaks of Pinnick Wood there was a moment when movement on the periphery of vision went wild, throughout the stands numerous things were jumping back and forth from behind the trunks, as if you'd stumbled upon a game of peek a boo with many players. The forest is a magical place.

Red Shoot Wood

Throughout the lower parts of the forest, woodland tracks are, more often than not, little more than quagmire, frequently pitted with boot sucking pockets of deceptively deep and sticky mud; they have become less than practical.  The answer, make your own track as the land allowed, though the going is slow. All is quiet and nothing stirs as you move amongst the stands. With focused listening the occasional snippet of bird song can be heard, but always at a distance.  Then all of a sudden, previously well camouflaged, a group of 7 or 8 stags break cover noisily at our approach and disappear quickly in several directions. The forest is always full of surprises.

Corfe

One of the most majestic and mighty of all English Medieval castles, Corfe was only slighted through treachery and even after months of mining and demolition, still stood and continues to stand, although in ruins, proud and strong. An enduring monument.

Flowerrs Barrow

The high cliffs of Rings Hill and Flowers Barrow Iron Age Hillfort crown the Western edge of the Purbeck. Commanding views, both East and west.  To the East, Kimmeridge, with St Albans Head beyond, and to the West, some of best vistas the Jurassic coast can provide; and can it provide!  From yesterdays thick grey rain jeweled cloak, an almost clear blue sky, just enough cloud to create interest, was afforded us today. Looking Westward, over Cockpit, Mupe and Bindon,White Noth was clearly visible with it's stark coastguard houses, and further still, the Isle of Portland lay like a hogs back on the horizon. Faced with such beauty the spirit soars and a timeless connection to the land finds affirmation.

Cow Corner

Worbarrow Bay