Warwickslade cutting

No this isn't a well worn woodland path, but the bare gravel and clay bottom of Warwickslade cutting. Bone dry now, but come the rainy season and this, and the open woodland surrounding it, will be awash and impassable. Although called a cutting, the long straight 'cutting' was remodelled some years back and now Warwickslade snakes through the stands, as it would have done prior the Victorian draining of the forest.

Under Win Green

Under Win Green is just what it says, the area under Win Green Hill. An area marked by steep rough grass slopes which disappear into deciduously wooded combes with meadows running through their bottoms; bloody lovely.  I've said it before, chalk-land is surely my favourite landscape, so rich in life; it crackles with energy. Wherever you look there are useful herb plants, fruiting trees and so many useful materials. Mammals too, Hares are common as are the Deer, the Fox and Badger, signs of which can be spotted if one cares to look a bit deeper; wander from the path maybe. And that's only few of the species of life which call this place home. Everywhere you look is bustling with activity. On reaching the end of the path in the photo, you emerge from the woodland on top of a high chalk grassland ridge which continues for miles in each direction and views, man, the views. I don't know how many counties I see, but it was a few. Great walking. It's a landscape to loose yourself in and find yourself all the better for it.

Bratley

Bratley enclosure 1830.

Big chair

There be giants! I thought the time of giants was over, other than a few who may still live in the wilds beyond the reach of modern man, but this giants chair would suggest otherwise.  Can't fault the giants choice of setting; lovely views. 

Hurst Hill

I'm not usually a fan of coniferous plantations, often they're planted too tightly for my liking; making them impassable and dark places. Hurst Hill enclosure is different though; originally Oak and enclosed in 1808, the replanted Pines are mature, open, airy and full of light; Hurst Hill exudes a majestic quality a creates fantastic space.

New bidge

Over the years one of the river crossing over the Red Rise Brook had become virtually invisible amongst the overgrown stream side shrubbery and for the last few years a muddy lake has formed at one end of the bridge, making it near impossible at times to even access it. The clearing, renovation and addition of a raised path at the Red Rise Shade bridge is welcomed, and just in time for wet season.

Rose Bay Willow herb

After the fire of a year or two ago, the Rose Bay Willow herb, or bomb weed, now carpets huge swathes of the common. Requiring fire to germinate its seed, the reckless youth did this plant a favour.

Beech Mast

The Beech mast continues to swell, some boughs are now straining, drooping ground-ward; so heavy the weight of fruit upon them. I've thought about having a go at pressing some Beechnut oil, not much mind, just giving it a go. It must have been incredibly arduous to prepare enough nuts to produce any quantity of oil. 

Highland Water

The forests streams are running low, more exposed gravel than water for many sections; and where there is water it hardly moves. Highland Water, one of the bigger forest streams, looks more like a chain of loosely connected puddles. Lovely vibe though, along the stream, beautiful walking.

Pairs

I'd noticed before about the forest that quite often trees appear to have been planted in twos, no doubt to hedge the foresters bets on forming a regular wood.  Here in Camel Green I've noticed how many of these paired trees follow a similar pattern; one thriving tree paired with one dead upstanding tree. I grow plants and veg, and you regularly have plants that don't take or wither when still little more than a shoot. These trees though appear to have thrived together for some considerable time, before one just gave up the ghost. Why is that? What's effected one that hasn't effected the other? They share the same environment, the same ground, the same source of water, everything! It's not just one or two either; pairs of one living, one dead are all over this wood. Another woodland mystery.

Mrs Tiggywinkle

Ah, Mrs Tiggywinkle, the once ubiquitous Hedgepig of children's tales, now, sadly, a far rarer visitor to our gardens and hedgerows.  I heard their numbers were seriously on the fall, and maybe that's so, I hope not. Though this year, after some thin years, I've seen a few about and possibly heard some. That said, the scrambling and shuffling I regularly hear about ours and our neighbours back gardens can't be positively attributed to Hedgehogs. I hope it is them though, and that they're making return.

Cheese and wine, yu?

I thought I'd see all types of graffiti, your regular so and so loves/4 so and so, dates, band names, symbols, even pure swearing and more, but I can now add another category....middle class graffiti. Coming across 'Cheese and Wine, march 02', I could help but smile and let out a laugh. Brilliant, posh vandals.  Although, I'm still out on whether I consider graffiti vandalism and leaning heavily to the not vandalism camp, even with my deep respect and love of trees.

Clouds

Over the sea, out beyond the bay, I saw these evening clouds drift by from the summit of Hengistbury Head; I liked them.

Bratley Water

The upper reaches of the forest streams are not commonly visited, what with many being off the beaten path, tucked in hollows and frequently bordered with wet ground. Their isolation gives them an added air of wilderness. Here a section of Bratley Water (later Blackensford Brook, then Black Water, then Fletchers Water before joining Highland Water a couple of miles before it becomes the Lymington River), an area I know to be difficult to traverse during the wet season, is bathed in gentle summer light made dappled by the narrow band of woodland which frequently borders such streams. A few ponies, surprised by my appearance, are grazing, enjoying the shade, noisy birds busy themselves in the canopy and the air hums with the clicks, chirps and buzzes of a myriad of insects making best use of their time.  I feel lucky to know such places, lucky to be able to enjoy time in them; time immersed in nature.  

Pot boilers

The forest has many stories to tell if you deviate from the main tracks and paths, looking carefully as you wander. Amongst the buttresses of this old Beech, a pile of blackened pebbles, burnt in a fire. Too small, I think, for the stones you might place around a fire and all a similar size. What they look like to me are stones which may have been used as pot boilers.  Pot boiling is heating stones in or near the fire and then adding them to a ceramic or hide container of water as a method to cook food.  Archaeologists suggest that this practice was common in prehistoric times, with heaps of pot boilers found on some sites. These stones though, I don't think are that old. So, if they were used in this way, who by? And in what circumstances?  The closest source for the stones is about 300m away, in the banks of a small stream; that and the way they're heaped I'm confident they had purpose and human agency was in action and them not being merely exposed natural subjected to heath fire. An interesting find, posing several questions to ponder.

Cool of the evening

After the heat of the day, the forest stands offer the wanderer a much appreciated cool evening walk.

Slow worm

You ain't seen me, right!  Even when I moved in for this close up this Slow worm didn't move. It was a good size and still had it's tail; the one you usually see round out way are tailless, having had to sacrifice a piece of tail in return for their lives. When I moved away it rapidly slithered into shade and was gone.

Beech stand

A favourite stand of mature Beech of mine has been decimated over the last two years or so; a tree here a tree there. Though this last 12 months has seen the worst of it. The extremes of wet and dry along with harsh winds whilst the canopies are in leaf have all wrought their toll. Four mature Beech humbled and several more like this one slighted, losing boughs or a trunk or two, in the case of grown out pollards. This, the most recent victim, is an old pollarded Beech tree, it's lost a mighty trunk, though the leafs remain green as if shouting their last defiant hussar.  It makes me sad to see these trees slighted, It makes me sad seeing any trees slighted, but these trees are special to me.  These trees are a place I come to sit and think awhile under the shade of their canopies; it has a certain magic.

Den

The summer sees an increase in the number of camps and dens amongst the forest stands. It must be something so hot wired into us, the urge or need to build shelter, that from a young age it's almost instinctive. I suppose it is one of the main requirements of our existence; somewhere to shelter from the elements.

Thistle

Grazing Deer

Myself and the lead Deer of this grazing group traded barks for over 5 minutes, I was partly obscured by the woodland and don't think they could make who or what was trying to communicate with them. No idea what I was saying to him, nor what he was saying to me.

Hengistbury Clouds

Some magnificent clouds out over the Head, rolling in with purpose.

Sunset

 What a fantastic Sunset over the forest to end the day.

Nuts

Many of the Hazel trees I've seen whilst out and about are looking good for nuts, and I could be being a bit previous, but I think with any luck we could be in for a good harvest this year. Many of them are of a good size too. Here's to hoping.

Shermel Gate

Todays walk was planned to remain in the shade for as much of the walk as possible. The weather wizards said the day was set to be hot, and they weren't wrong; the air was thick and heavy, no breeze to mention, the Sun beat down and it was hot.  Add to that mix the humidity created by high bands of cloud, moving fast enough though not to interrupt the Sun much, and you have a day where shade offers some degree respite.  Under the canopy amongst the stands, the woodland, with its dappled light, is a degree or two cooler, the humidity drops and you can now feel the air as you breath in. Nice. I was lucky, the route I'd chosen for the day allowed us to spend maybe 70% of our walk in well developed woodland or through the woodland fringe. One stretch which was quiet open, in sections, was from Shermel Gate up to Bigley Buildings, about 2 miles or so, uphill for the most of it too. Lovely countryside though, somewhere inside you feel a connection to it, it's a timeless landscape of hills and combes, a landscape which stirs images from deep in your subconscious as if you've always known the place. Lovely.

Great Huntley Bank

The low evening Sun shines through the stands of Great Huntley Bank.