Samhain

With final harvest gathered in,

the veil betwixt worlds grows ever thin.

So set a place and spare a thought,

for those we love who've journeyed forth.

With tomorrows dawn winters reign begins,

of nights so dark and day's so thin.

But upon the hills bone fires burn bright,

and from their hearts our hearths ignite.

And with salmons wisdom we'll seek to dream,

a chance of foresight through times endless stream.

Celebrate and give thanks for achievements won,

for a new year starts with the rising Sun.

Blessings at Samhain.

Milky seas

Below a wind wracked cloudy sky the sea trails milky blue along the Purbecks around Durdle Door as the rough autumn seas erode the tons of chalk rubble deposited periodically along the shore line by slippages and falls. Lapped at by the waves, a fresh pile of chalk boulders west of Scratchy Bottom blocks your progress along the beach and add to the milky seas. More sections of cliff look poised to follow around the bottom. This year has been witness to more cliff slides than I can remember; slides regularly appear, but not with the frequency or severity of recent months.  The elements are conspiring to effect change on the timeless Jurassic coast. 

Hurst Castle

You had to walk along the shore as a section of the track had been closed due to the Coastguards finding World War Two ordinance, 3 or so anti aircraft shells. The MOD were called, but they were on the Island dealing with ordinance there; so the Coastguards would be having a long wait. The guys said there'd been several finds after the storm, with some larger bombs being found aways along the spit yesterday. Around the the castle end of the spit, the surging storm waters have scoured the gravel in front of the fortifications revealing all manner of past works. Concrete, red brick and stone, probably the remain of military features or possibly revetment works to protect the main fortification for storms. Either way there was a lot exposed, so much gravel has been washed away.  In one section red bricks from features in the inter-tidal were scattered, thrown inland by what must have been ferocious combination of wind and water. So, Hurst weathered another storm. I wonder how many that makes?  There's been a fortification here since 1540, so I imagine it's seen a few.

A day at the seaside

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside.. Well, who wouldn't?

Spit erosion

I wrote yesterday that I hadn't seen much damage, well, that changed today visiting Hurst spit. The spit had only recently been renovated, though you'd think the contrary seeing the state of sections of it today. The high winds, highest speeds recorded just across the water at the Needles, and lashing waves have ripped at the gravel spit, removing hundreds of tons of material and totally altering its profile. Where there was a steep sloping stepped seaward face to the spit, you'll find it massively eroded, now a broad expanse gently sloping to a, nearly a meter high, sheer face. The back of the spit has suffered too, with deep gullies cut by the over shooting waves displacing tons of gravel towards the salt marshes.  The access track which runs along the spit is no more than 3 or 4 meters in places, much narrower than it was. In more than one place only but a couple of meters stood between a disastrous breach. Each of the elements alone contains massive power but combined their power is awesome. I fancy it would have been quite an experience to have weathered the storm out at Hurst Castle.

Storms end

Well the bulk of the storm has passed over, only it's tail end remains, though still angry enough to continue to deal out sharp winds and the occasional squally shower.  Other than the occasional fallen bough the storm appears to have spared the trees, although a walk through the forest will may tell a different story, in fact there was less damage locally than one may have anticipated.  No bad thing.

Before the storm

Between scudding showers occasionally the Sun broke through, infiltrating the thinning canopy and illuminating the woodland floor, so long in the shade. These were fleeting moments though, mere interludes in the weathers grand design. Even then, with a clear sky, the winds continued to gust. Embracing a tree you could feel it flex and twist as its boughs were shaken under duress. Amongst the Oak it continued to rain even when the sky cleared, a hard rain of acorns which litter the floor creating a crunchy carpet and ample meals for foraging pigs. They say the storm will be intense, like the storm of '87, we'll have to see. The damage caused in '87 is still visible about the forest in the rotting hulks of fallen leviathans and numerous holes in the canopy. I hope the forest is spared, we've lost too many trees already this year.

Cauliflower Fungus

Sparassis crispa, the Cauliflower Fungus is a fairly common parasitic fungus found predominantly at the base Pine trunks or on Pine stumps.  The Cauliflower Fungus is edible, listed as good by many, best collected when young you must ensure it is cleaned well to remove any foreign bodies trapped amongst its lobes and then cook it well.  This example was in very good condition.

Out of range

Adjacent to Bokerley Dyke is an abandoned military firing range, originating in the Second World War it was last used by the army in the 1950's. It's one of the largest firing ranges I've come across and would have facilitated many shooters.  At the South East end is the ranges giant butt, designed to limit the dangers of stray rounds, which has been constructed out of excavated chalk rubble from 2 clearly visible areas either side of it. To the front of the butt, North West, is an overgrown feature running parallel; double banks with thick brickwork revetment to their rear and associated concrete platforms would have once have held targets, now only fragments of this substantial feature are visible through dense consuming foliage. Beyond the target platforms, equally spaced, are five broad firing platforms, maybe 50m apart. A quick look at a few of the exposed sections of the target platform revealed tell tale evidence of that mainstay of the British army throughout World War Two and beyond, the Lee Enfeild .303 (still sometimes used for sniping); a copper-nickel full metal jacketed bullet with a lead core. The day was getting late, so we had to head back, otherwise I'd have liked to investigate this site further. Another day.

Bokerley Dyke

Bokerley Dyke, a major linear bank and ditch earthwork, is impressive, for a earthen monument several thousand years old it remains a powerful and very visible feature running over 6km across the Dorset landscape. Believed to have originated during the Bronze Age/Iron Age transition period, giving it a rough construction date around 3000 BC +/- 400, the dyke was refortified during the late Iron Age and later remodelled and refortified by the Romano British population in defence against the Saxons, later still and continuing today it delineated part of the county boundary with Hampshire.

Return of the pigs

Our friends the pigs were about in the woods again today and again they charged towards us, although there was no river to escape them this time and so we had to hold our ground. They all but ignored Norris, although the 2 young saddlebacks snorted around my boots and legs, attempting to taste my bootlaces and trousers, but were easily shooed off.  After which, they followed us about the forest like dogs, if we got ahead of them whilst they foraged, they'd charge after us to catch up. As we began our walk back, they were still following us and I became concerned that they were wandering away from their normal roam. So, skulking off through the trees, I thought we'd lost them, shortly there after they trotted out of the shrub. Then we ran off, through dense gorse, across wet ground, jumping several small rivulets and into thick woodland; thinking we must have given them the slip we slowed our pace.  No, they found us. This went on for half an hour or so, and I was becoming increasing worried for them as I knew where we were heading was not safe for them and they could access the A35, which would be disastrous.  In a last ditch attempt we took the underpass, which I knew would be flooded and may effect a deterrent to our pig friends; it worked, we got wet wading but the pigs, with much snorting, turned back.  I was relieved, although I'd enjoyed their company and will hopefully seek them out again during this pannage season.

Track

The basics remain the basics, the need to cross a wet area, using resources available to hand has never changed. I look at this basic wooden track and immediately I recognize it as virtually the same as prehistoric trackways I'd studied; trackways such as those found in the Somerset Levels or Ireland and dating from as far back as the Neolithic. When I see things like this it is brought more sharply into focus how for all our modern trappings we are fundamentally the same as our distant ancestors.

Chestnuts

It's a good year for Sweet Chestnuts in the forest, they might not all be big, although plenty are, but there is a fair quantity of them and they taste good; roasted or fresh.

Pig rout

We were routed from Red Rise Shade by marauding pigs, well, the two small pigs we'd seen a few weeks ago. When we last saw them they were nervous, approaching us slowly, tentatively and with care. Not today, they charged towards us, encouraging us to walk fast at first, before running, we only managed to evade them by jumping Red Rise Brook. Even then they followed us along the other side stream. Menaced by two small pigs, bears yes or wolfs, but tiny pigs, shameful :o)

Cubes

I've passed these Second World War Anti Tank Cubes for over 40 years now, and they've endured well, a few may have slumped a bit over that time and scratched graffiti appears and fades again; though built in haste with whatever was a hand, 70 years on they're not too shabby. They once extended four times as far inland to cut the peninsular off, though now only this section and a few displaced blocks of the seas side of the toll road remain. It's funny, we rave about castles, stately homes and other historic monuments, although we tend to neglect World War Two remains, yes there's a slight upturn in interest, stimulated by anniversaries, but on the whole such sites go unnoticed and untended or worse, are destroyed. Short sighted in my opinion.   

Studland Stone

One of 6 standing stones in a group on the Studland peninsular. Five stones form a linear setting, running roughly North South, with the sixth slightly off to the West of the Northern most stone, which is shown above. An interesting and enigmatic group of uncertain age, in an unusual setting, with dates from the Iron Age to the 1700's suggested, more investigation needed to understand the purpose of this monument.

Tenacious Tree

I think this Scots Pine shows a high degree of tenacity eking out a modest existence occupying niche environment amongst the dunes and heather of Shell Bay. Exposed to all the elements could throw at it, twisted and gnarled, kept stunted by the constant battle royal, it continues to endure all hardships to keep it fragile tenure on the shifting sands. Trees are great.

Godlingston Hill

You'd have been excused for thinking it was still the summer today on Godlingston Hill.

Smoke on the wind

Smells can transport you to past moments or periods, so powerful are their associations.  The heavy rich scent of burning garden refuse wafted about Studland this morning, transporting me back to the 1970's, where like white dog poo and 3 for a penny mojos, for me garden bonfires are synonymous. Folk had more garden fires back then, I know my Dad did as did the neighbours. I believe it was a lack of recycling or garden waste collection that made them a necessity, whatever, but common they were. Today it was the NT volunteers clearing undergrowth. I closed my eyes and watched as images were paraded before me from deep in my subconscious memory, causing a wave of nostalgia to wash over me. I smiled, the 70's were good times on the whole. As got closer to their fire the smell of the fire changed as did my associations, now my mind wandered to the free festivals of the 80's and early 90's, before the criminal justice bill outlawed such free delights.  Again closing my eyes, the smoky odour transported me, I could see, hear, feel those festivals, the people, the music, the sense of optimism, the belief that the future could be better. With all that's transpired since, looking back we appear naive, still good times were had and fond memories created.  As I start the rise up to Godlingston Hill the smell of woodsmoke fades and I return to the here and now, brushing off a slight feeling of melancholy I look at the wonders of the woodland about me and stride on.

Iford

The River Stour runs slow and smooth as a mill pond as it approaches Iford Bridge, its stillness only broken  by a pair of cruising swans and the occasionally rising fish plucking an tasty insect from the surface.  Bathed in the autumnal glow of a fading Sun, tranquility reigns in this timeless scene. 

Robins Pincushion

The Rose Bedeguar Gall or Robin's Pincushion can frequently be seen growing on Dog Rose in country hedgerows, greens through to pinks and deep reds, the growth is the consequence of gall wasp who creates the growth via chemical injection in order to house their young. The common name refers to the woodland folk sprite of British tradition, Robin Goodfellow. They are a strange and lovely sight, particularly when covered in morning dew.

Mudeford Quay

Christchurch harbour at the point where the River Mude enters it near Mudeford Quay. Birds search for morsels to eat, much of the harbour is exposed twice a day at low tides, grounding boats and exposing mud rich in insects and invertebrates making the area popular with birds of many types, many common, though some rare.

Autumn

Autumn runs through the stands of Red Rise Shade, along the banks of Red Rise Brook and disappears into the shadowy depths of Burly Old Enclosure. Carried on increasingly chill winds, she sparkles on the babbling brook and dances amongst the long cast shadows and whispering murmuring boughs, not yet ready to give up their coats, but turning into a rich tapestry of earthy hues, to complement her earthy perfume, heavy and heady.  All synonymous with the Autumn forest. Like a fickle lover torn between four different muses, all beautiful, all so generous, so giving, I love all the seasons, but I'm always in love with the one I'm with.

Lichen tree

Now more lichen than anything else, this Blackthorn still produces a few sloes, though leafs are few and far between; grey and strange it sticks out amongst the greens of the surrounding trees.

Puff Ball

The Common Puffball (Lycoperdon perlatum).

Bulbarrow Hill

The view west from Bulbarrow Hill.

King of the Hill

Rawlsbury Hillfort

Perched proudly on a prominent spur of Bulbarrow Hill is Rawlsbury Hillfort, with views over three counties it's strategically sited and would have posed an impressive and unassailable defended position. The site is Iron Age and is located well within the territory of the Durotriges, the Celtic tribe controlling what is now Dorset. It's a pear shaped multivallate fort of about 5 acres, hugging the contours of the spur, its two large banks and dividing ditches remain impressive. The only way to approach to the site would have been along the spur and this side of the fort has multiple banks and ditches to confuse any would be attacker, although these defences have been disturbed and slighted by a Medieval track. Sited as it is on the second highest hill in the county, it has continued to be of strategic importance, in 1588 it was used as a Armada beacon to warn of any attack from Spain, later during the Napoleonic Wars it was the site of a hilltop telegraph station and during the Second World War a GEE radio navigation system used by the RAF was sited nearby on the summit of Bulbarrow Hill.

Red Admiral

The Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta) is one of the last butterflies about through autumn, often seen on sunny days amongst the ivy feeding before it hibernates.

Haricot harvest

I decided this year that I'd focus mainly on a few crops at home and down on the allotment; alliums, (onions, shallots and leeks), of which I've harvested and stored about 250 onions and about 3 or so kilos of shallots, leeks are doing nicely, tomatoes, of which I've had kilos and kilos, and there's still plenty on the vines and haricot beans, which I harvested today, cropping nearly 3 kilos of dried beans. Not a bad harvest.

Beech Avenue

The were originally 731 Beech trees planted when the avenue at Kingston lacy was planted in 1835 to line the new turnpike created by wealthy landowner William Bankes. There were 365 trees, a tree for every day of a normal year, on one side and one extra, 366, on the other side to represent leap years. Nice.

Nut sack

Ringmoor was generous with its bounty today. A lovely walk, was finished off with the gathering of a fair sized sack of well proportioned Hazelnuts. If I'd been of a mind I could have picked good quantities of Haw, Sloe, Hip and Blackberry too, although I think it may be getting too late for the latter. There were plenty of nuts left for the areas indigenous inhabitants too, so job was a goodun all round.

Ringmoor

It's been a long while since we've walked this way. Ringmoor was not our intended destination for our walk today, that had been the Purbecks, although we found a section of the A35 closed and after an attempt to circumnavigate the closure alternation walking was sought; and the high center of Dorset called us. Ringmoor is an ancient place, the linear banks and ditches, circular enclosures, shallow depressions and track represent the earthen remains of an Iron Age farmstead. Unlike much of the surrounding area, Ringmoor's foot print has never gone under the plough and has been preserved through the ages; its features easily traced. An important archaeological site. At the top of the site, towards the summit of the hill, is an ancient dew pond, contemporary with the settlement and used long after by animals using the drovers path; the settlements track was still utilized long after the settlement had been abandoned.

Above Ringmoor, high on Bell Hill, runs a section of the 137 mile long Wessex ridge-way, offering spectacular views over three counties; Dorset, Wiltshire and Somerset.  On one commanding hill, in the middle distance, the impressive ditches and ramparts of Hambledon Hill are clearly visible; the massive hillfort would have been occupied during a large period of Ringmoors occupation, although the latter continued throughout the Romano British, by which time Hambledon would have been greatly reduced, if anyone lived there at all. The Romans would have cleared such symbols of tribal power, for fear of insurrection.

It may not have been our walk of choice, but what we got was far more than we had expected from our day on the coast, fantastic as that would have been. Absence certainly makes the heart goes fonder and our absence from this landscape has been too long; we'll be back this way soon as.  There are potentially miles of track to get reacquainted with as well as new paths to find.  Happy days.

Old May

This Hawthorn, or May tree, is old, really old, its gnarled bark and twisted form are testament to several hundred years of standing proud and resolute on an open Dorset hillside, exposed to all that natures elements can dish out. A magical tree, brimming with folklore; believed to harbour the powerful supernatural forces of both good and evil and has both positive and negative attributes and effects. Duality runs deep through Hawthorn folklore, for example, a tree of life, a tree of death, a symbol of sexual abandonment and fertility but adversely, of chastity and sexual abstinence. Fertility and sexuality are synonymous with the Hawthorn, spring unions were a tradition of Beltaine celebrations, when dancers hoped for fertility in the coming season as they danced about a Hawthorn May pole. When the May's in blossom we know it's winter end and the long march to summer has begun, our May Queens crown is of the Hawthorns pink white blooms.  Lone trees such as this one are said to home to faeries and should not be disturbed, or face the wrath of those who dwell inside. A nice spot to rest a while and take in all of natures beauty, which is particularly abundant in this part of the county.

Oak and Cep

Oaks nurture Ceps. Thank you Oaks.

Red Rise

Today was a learning day; the lesson humility.  The forest was lovely, clouds threw dramatic shadows over wood and heath as they periodically allowed bright swathes of light through before returning to somber shade. I was well equipped or so I thought; full survival gear, resources, tools, my ghillie for a hot chocolate, all good, because I know my shit.  

So we made our way amongst the stands, picking more Ceps as we went, collecting some browning bracken and kindling as we travelled to create a tinder ball and fire for the ghillie later. A few miles on we stopped by a stream, the Sun was out and illuminated a gavel bank, lovely, a perfect place to boil up.  It was now my lesson in humility and over confidence began.  I chose the wrong place to try and light the tinder; too windy. I hadn't checked I had the right tinder or that it was correctly prepared, and try as I might I couldn't get the tinder I had lit. I carried no back up all weather tinder. I neglected to ensure I carried alternative fire lighting gear; matches or a lighter. My frustration at not getting the tinder lit had meant I'd neglected to notice I wasn't using my striker right to maximize the sparks. Before all this I'd got my mug and stuff out, another mistake, too soon. Norris came out of the stream and shook water over everything.  At which point frustration led to me lose focus and I found myself thinking 'sod it, I'll go without'; then I reminded myself that if I were really trying to survive 'sod it' would not be an option. So, I started again. I moved, I better prepared the tinder I had, I started using my striker correctly, I got focus and I got the tinder lit and the water boiled, although half the water was wasted in cleaning, in order to avoid any chance of contamination from the stream water.

A task that would/should have normally taken me, with ease, under 5 mins, turned into a frustrating 20 min plus chore. Why? Because I'd become complacent, slap dash, not kept up my practice, not noticed that my kit was incomplete and I had not packed contingency equipment.  I'd become too cocky and a lesson in humility was required; nature is a good teacher and the forest the perfect classroom.

Tree Leopard

Whilst walking through resource woods, head down focused on searching for fungi, I came upon an unusual sight, a sight that elicited a strange and quiet intense reaction.  Someone with a sense of humour has put a life sized plush toy Leopard amongst the branches of a mighty fallen Beech. Maybe it was the surprise, but for a moment I was frozen, terrified, I fought the fight or flight reflex as I sought in split second to identify the right course of action to take, before the realization that I wasn't about to be mauled kicked in. Then I laughed at my foolishness, and with relief that I wasn't going to be eaten.

Cep-tober

Well, they've finally arrived; farewell September, hail and welcome Cep-tober. A search amongst Oaks revealed a fair few Ceps, all firm and maggot free and plenty were left, too small to pick. I could have picked them but it felt wrong, and a bit greedy as I had such a good haul anyway.

It wasn't just Ceps I was hunting today, I'm giving a talk on fungi tomorrow and although I've created a sheet with some poisonous, some edible, a couple a bushcraft and a couple of shamanic species on, that's in case the pickings were meager, I'd rather have some physical examples to illustrate my talk. The forest didn't let me down. I didn't collect any poisonous examples as I don't even like to handle them due to their fatal nature.  For the edibles I collected examples of Cep, Birch Bolete, Bay Bolete, Hedgehog, Parasol, Beefsteak, Puff Balls, Oysters and Deceivers. For bushcraft the Birch Polypore and King Alfred's Cake. Finally for shamanic the Fly Agaric and Liberty Cap. There were plenty of other species available too, but I'm only talking for a short while and I'm trying to show the main 3 fatal species and edibles which are hard if not impossible to misidentify, as the group are all novices when it comes to fungi. As long as the frost holds off we could be onto a good thing this season.

Autumn stream