Territoral dispute?

A timeless image of the forest; pigs at pannage. The family of pigs I saw up on Spy Holms the other day have migrated down into the wooded fringes of Red Rise Brook and its bountiful supply of forageable goodies.  There appeared to be some unease between them and the local ponies, who didn't look to kindly on having guests in their woods. The pigs were grouped on one side of the brook and the ponies on the other, though every so often a group of pigs would venture across the brook into pony territory. Repeatedly the ponies formed up and chased the pigs hither and thither, until they squealed off, back across the brook. Not for long though, and they invade again. Well, that's where the bulk of the goodies are, you can't blame them. The ponies will just have to share, after all the pigs are doing them a favour.

Carlton Melton + The Neighbourhood Strange + Carpet @ The Old Ale House, Salisbury

 

You'd think listening to most radio stations or what the television radiates, that our current musical landscape was entirely populated by auto-tuned generic corporate pulp. Though step outside and look beyond the barren musical landscape the media promotes and you find that that is not the case, and that there's a wonderfully rich musical world going on out there in independent venues and at small festivals. Take Carlton Melton. A good friend of mine, who's in the know on things psychedelic, turned me on to Carlton Melton and when an opportunity to see them perform life locally arose, naturally I took it.  

Carlton Melton are a three piece heavy psych band from the West coast of America: Andy Duvall on drums (although starting and finishing on guitar), Rich Millman on lead (and synth/keyboard) and bass man Clint Golden. Their set started slowly with a hypnotic number of guitar and synth, setting the stage and gently sliding you out of one reality and into the Carlton Melton-verse. Then boom!, and we were off, carried by Andy's heavy drumming and Clint's rhythmic bass we were off down the colourful psychedelic tunnels created by Rick's frantic guitar noodlings. Far f*cking out, man. Carlton Melton really know how to rock. Andy bashed away at the drums like a man possessed, Rick wasn't still long enough to get a clear shot of him, in fact, I think he was actually fazing in and out of our reality and Clint, well, Clint's conscientious deep bass vibe kept the band safely tethered in this reality.  They all appeared to be loving it; the crowd were certainly loving it, it was a sea of smiley fly catching faces, blown away by the sonic storm emanating from the stage. We were served a feast of deep psychedelic fare until we returned to where we started, with the band playing a hypnotic guitar and synth number. Then, all too soon, it was over and we were back in the room. Afterwards I took the opportunity to talk to the guys and thank them, what nice fellows, very humble. They all said they'd be back in April, so there's a date for your diary. Carlton Melton nice guys doing top shelf psychedelic music; does what it says on the label.

There were also two support bands on the bill. The first were a band called Carpet, I have to be honest and I'm ashamed to say that I wasn't paying much attention to them and so can't really do a review of justice, although what I heard sounded fine. Next were The Neighbourhood Strange. The Neighbourhood Strange sounded to me like an old style 60's psychedelic garage band, with short, fast paced numbers played with a real retro feel to them and tons of gusto. That's no criticism, I thoroughly enjoyed their set which was delivered very competently.

And the venue? The Old Ale House in Salisbury, a venue of the type I've described and enthused about in previous gig posts, a smallish, friendly pub venue with friendly staff, a good atmosphere and a willingness to put on a wide range of bands. All round a great night. I'll certainly keep my eye out for Carlton Melton and The Neighbourhood Strange, both well worth venturing out for; as well as keeping my eye on who's playing the Old Ale House.

Havest moon eclipse

Not the best picture, granted, though up in a clear star speckled night sky this blood red harvest super moon eclipse was something to behold. It may have meant getting up in the middle of the night, but as it wont occur again for 18 years and going by most of our astronomical events may possibly obscured by clouds when it does return, it seemed stupid not to make the effort.

Pigs on the wing

It's pannage time again out in the forest as families of pigs grub about the stands hoovering up the acorns; an essential job as the acorns are not good for the ponies and a real pleasure to see. You usually see them, as I say, grubbing amongst the stands, but today they were out in the open on Spy Holms, sharing the land with the forest cattle and ponies. Although beware, the young pigs can be cute, though their mothers not so, as you'll discover if they take a dislike to you. Still, their presence certainly adds to the forest and it's nice to see such traditions endure. 

Alder

You commonly see Alders (Alnus glutinosa) taking this form in the wetter parts of the forest, I can't make out whether they're coppiced or naturally grow in this multi trunked way. And as for the confused nature of the Alders bases, well, they're quite a unique sight.

Holmhill passage

We've not really explored the east of the forest, so much of it remains a mystery. We've done parts, but it's joining all those parts up to create a mind map of the area. Today I explored the area east of Clayhill Heath, an interesting area of mixed mosaic woodlands, pockets of ancient woodland and nice tracts of Alder dominated bog woodlands. Through one of these runs Mately Bog, a meandering stream through bordering wetland in an area known as Holmhill passage. It was nice walking, although I'd wager it becomes far more difficult in the wet seasons.

Beeches

A line of mature Beeches (Fagus sylvatica) runs down a Chase hillside.

Rewilding

With no natural predators and a reduction in culling Deer numbers in the forest have risen sharply over recent years. And, as beautiful as the Deer are, and as wonderful as it is so see large herds of them grazing or sweeping through the stands, they a remarkably destructive. Naturally their habits and habitats would be defined, in part, by their predators as is well illustrated in 'how wolves change rivers' (see link below) as is how this would have a much wider effect on the natural environment. Today I climbed the 7 foot Deer fencing and entered one of the protected enclosures dotted about the forest. What a difference. I was given a tiny insight into how rewilding might work; of course in no way was I seeing the true magnificence of such a project, no, just a glimpse. The understory of the woodland was thicker, more vibrant, there were lower branches on trees (something all but missing from open areas of the forest where Deer (and ponies) over graze), but most noticeable were the numbers of saplings, again something of a rarity in open areas. The dense nature of the woodland gave it a wild feel, orientating yourself and negotiating the woodland were difficult and I'd imagine navigating in an extended wildwood would be difficult. As I said, only a glimpse of what could be, but it set my mind to thinking of what could be and how wonderful that might be.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysa5OBhXz-Q

Mabon (Autumn Equinox)

When Autumn visits us each year,

on it's arrival we raise a cheer.

Now's a time for celebrating,

for taking stock and anticipating.

For Winters grip will soon be here,

though with harvest stored, we allay our fear.

We thank the spirits of the land,

we know for sure they lent a hand.

We thank the elements of Earth, Water, Fire and Air,

we know for certain they were there.

We thank our ancestors, our family and every friend,

for giving the support and love on which we depend.

There's one more harvest yet to come,
and when that's stored, our year will be done.

Mabon blessings

Green

Research has shown that if you immerse yourself in green, walking in the woods or some such similar activity, you'll reduce the quantity stress hormones in your saliva. I alway knew it did you good.

Sentient @ The King Athur Glastonbury

This evening I boarded the interstellar space schooner Sentient for a journey through the audio multiverse. The crew were: Steffe Sharpstrings (whose strings were indeed as sharp as ever) who wove wonderfully organic and fluid threads through the magical synth landscapes created by master knob twiddler Mr Joie Hinton, stonking basslines were provided by Subs, which were complemented beautifully by Tanyas excellent drumming, both drove Sentient forward and kept our course true.

Our musical journey was to be in two parts. On the first leg (about an hour) the band delighted the audience with a series of wonderfully rich musical landscapes travelled through with magical grace. Some tracks were transcendental as Steffes exquisite noodling and sublime glissando (using technical vernacular I'd certainly describe it as shit hot) and Joies tweeking and masterful Synthesis took hold of your senses and sent them soaring. Whilst other tracks got the audience energetically moving, with Tanya drumming some shamanic beats which woke your primal dancer and Subs' deep rich bass really driving the whole groove home and people really love it. Mix into all of that some elements of jazz and funk and it went something like that. The second leg was a mighty 45 minute jam, not your regular jam, no sir, this was a top shelf special reserve conserve of improvisational genius. It would be hard to adequately describe the music we were gifted and I couldn't do it justice anyway; so I'm just going to say it was MENTAL. The musicianship of all involved was first class and was complemented nicely by a groovy light show provided by DMTV. What a fine evening, Sentient are going from strength to strength and long may it continue, I can't wait to see them again. Too gushy a review you say? Well, you weren't there, they were bloody marvellous! All that said, I was bemused as to why the venue wasn't overflowing, what's wrong with folk? If you see Sentient are playing near you, get out and see them, you wont be disappointed.

I should say a little something about the King Arthur in Glastonbury. Upon entering the King Arthur I was welcomed by Brun who was sat at the bar energetically expressing himself through both word and gesture (I imagined him to be their concierge, unofficial I'm sure, although he did greet warmly all who entered). Brun introduced folk to me and showed me where everything was; later he could be seen dancing erratically or sat on the edge of the stage throwing the occasional shape or random arm gesture.  A nice fellow. There's a fine vibe about the place, all the staff were lovely and a really friendly atmosphere. The performance area is at the back, it isn't big, though neither is it too small. Overall the King Arthur is a great pub/venue of the type much needed in our increasingly corporatized venue/music landscape. And they put on bands like Sentient, so, all hail the King.

Cheddar Gorgous

Visiting Cheddar Gorge today was a last minute addition to the days itinerary, so I didn't arrive at the Gorge until mid afternoon. I wasted no time and not being one to always adhere to paths, scrambled up through the rock strewn trees which still cling to some of the lower parts of the gorge. I climbed up through the humid stands until I emerged atop the gorge looking down into its meandering rocky chasm. Wow. I've been here many times, and every time I feel the same...wow. I made my way along the lip of the gorge, periodically braving a snatched glimpse over its vertical faces. I don't mind admitting heights are not easy for me and at times I was gripped by terror. But the views, not only of the gorge, but of the surrounding Mendip Hills and Levels beyond were stunning.  I continued to follow the gorge until just before Jacobs Ladder, then turned and headed out along the Mendips.  The Sun was now beginning to slowly sink and mists started forming over the Levels, adding an air of mystery to the landscape as it hung over the hills (which rise from the Levels here and there) like a veil. This was new to me, I'd only walked about the gorge on past rambles. From what I saw today, there's plenty of exploring to be done in them there hills. By the time I got back down into the gorge there was less than an hour to sunset and the gorge was eerily quiet. The sort of quiet you really notice.  What a lovely walk, and all the better for its spontaneity.

Young Agaric

Fly Agarics (Amanita muscaria) are beginning to pop up all over the forest.

Moody

The Sun was low and for the most part masked by cloud making the skies a bit moody at times during our walk today over the hills, though when the light periodically burst through it looked great as it raked the land.

Ah, so that's what it is!

On Sunday my post regarded a strange fungi find that I was having trouble identifying, today I passed that way again. Ah, so that's what it is! I thought. Now grown I recognize it straight away. What I was looking at was a Tawny Grisette (Amanita fulva), it's quite distinctive in colour as are the lines around its caps edge. I'd only seen them grown and had no idea that's what they looked like when young. The Tawny Grisette is a common mushroom normally found in mixed woodland, and although being a member of the amanita family, is edible. I must point out that the amanita family contains several deadly members; edible or not, I'd recommend you keep away, nobodies that hungry.  

Autumn reigns

Autumn reigns supreme across the forest and does so gloriously. The rich greens of the canopy are just beginning to fade, though still remain majestic; soon the colour will change, marking the fall and winters approach. That said, the dappled light of the fading Sun that dances through the canopy is rich and mellow, the stands of the forest have a fairytale glow. I was surprised that the stream wasn't higher after the recent down pours, though I know that as autumn goes on crossing it will soon be restricted to the bridges and a handful of potential jumping spots. Of course, said 'jumping spots' could, and sometimes are, more accurately described as 'dunking spots'. That's part of the fun.  Everything appears mellowed in the forest now, the jobs all but done and soon it'll be time to turn in for a deserved rest.  Just the mushrooms and the fruits to go and then shamansburys (a Mighty Boosh reference) will be closed until spring. Deer, cattle and the forest ponies busy themselves eating for the more barren coming season, as I should imagine are the rest of the forest inhabitants. Soon it'll be panage and the pigs will be loosed, always fun. A rested awhile amongst some ancient leviathans, enjoyed a brew and watched the forest do what the forest does; what lovely time of year.

Today was also a fruitful forage. I collected enough Ceps (boletus edulis), Oysters (Pleurotus ostreatus) and Hedgehogs (Hydnum repandum) for a few meals. Which was nice. I collected the Hedgehogs from a spot that can often supply them early in the season, before they show elsewhere, and in good quantities. All in all a very rewarding roam.

Field Maple

I see the Field Maple (Acer campestre), our only native Maple, as too often overlooked; you rarely hear it mentioned and I doubt many could identify it. The Field Maple produces a very hard dense timber which is valued by those building musical instruments and for veneering. Its small stature, common to the Field Maple, may suggest immaturity, although on closer inspection you'll see many of them are hundreds of years old; the Field Maple can live for 400 years or so, and even longer if coppiced. It may be that in the future the Field Maple becomes more common as it's very resistant to pollution and may fill the void left by those who aren't. I particularly enjoy its 'helicopter' fruits (seeds) which can be beautifully coloured.

?

It looks like a brûléed Lychee, most peculiar and I can't remember seeing one before. I've searched through all my reference books, and I've trawled the interweb using a variety of search terms and so far I haven't been able to identify these weird looking fungi.

A homage to Catalonia

I picked this book up at the tip, I wish I'd read it years ago. I understand how Orwell felt to believe in movements, believe in the potential for change, believe in revolution and see all that potential for positive change, for personal and social emancipation wasted or subverted or just stolen, worse given away. Is that the nature of revolutions? It would appear it is, as they say 'the shit always rises to the top'. It's easy to become cynical or even nihilistic, I know. Written as it is, reading George Orwell's 'Homage to Catalonia' feels like you're sat with Orwell as he reminisces his experiences in the Spanish Civil War, on the Aragon Line and in Barcelona. In my head Orwell was given a sort of Mr Chumbly Warner voice, which worked for me as he first tells of Anarchist (I like the sound of them) equality and of the liberation to be found in it; the dull drudgery and random dangers of life on the front line; of the May riots and the beginning of the end; of his shooting and subsequent convalescence; and finally of political skulduggery, communist treachery, life as a fugitive and of escaping Spain. Quite an adventure and all undertaken in that totally British public school manner of the period, and with all the associated sensibilities. It's clear from reading George Orwell's 'Homage to Catalonia' that his experiences in the Spanish Civil War heavily coloured the imagery and subjects of his subsequent books 'Animal Farm' and '1984'; which both exhibit echoes of his experiences from that time. It's an interesting read, I'd recommend it.

Sweet Chestnut

The seriously spiky fruits of the Sweet Chestnut (Castanea sativa) are beginning to form in good quantities. I say 'seriously spiky fruits', although it's only the protective outer case that's prickly, the nut inside is, as it's name suggests, sweet and full of goodness.  The Sweet Chestnut is not a native of our land, although having been introduced by the Romans 2000 years ago it has now become naturalized and is commonly found throughout the forest; this may be as it produces a valuable, durable and versatile timber, which would have been much sought after.

The Slug and shroom

The Slug and shroom

Host

Even when a leviathan falls in the forest it provides support and a home for others; a vigorous ivy clings to the truncated trunk of a slighted ancient Beech as it reaches for the sky.   

Parasol mushrooms

The rough grassland around the linear barrow cemetery (Nine Barrows) on Brenscombe Hill is bursting with Parasol mushrooms (Macrolepiota procera), there are literally hundreds, I've not seen them like this before and 90% of them are in an edible condition.  A wonderful sight.

Bog Woodland

For about a couple of decades or maybe more now the forestry types have been engaged in reinstating areas of bog woodland lost to drainage during the admiralty years. The straight drains and straightened streams which were for the most part the norm in the forest when I was growing up have been remodeled and where possible returned to their earlier meandering courses. This work has begun to change the face and nature of some areas of the forest. Areas which would only have been wet during the winter are now commonly wet throughout the year and other areas which were never usually wet are now seasonally impassible; the nature of the low parts of the forest landscape are changing. Though, I'm increasingly conflicted about conservation and the more I read the wider my concerns become. What's it all about?  The species selected for conservation or the period in which we set any selected landscape in aspic, appear arbitrary, as therefore are those species we don't conserve; it's certainly not returning said landscape to its natural state. No, it's almost landscape reenactment... just choose historical period. But who chooses and what's the criteria? Rewilding's the direction we need to move in and then allow nature to find her equilibrium

Stumped

Many of the hulks of old forest trees take on haunting forms all twisted and hollow, some look like they're melting into the ground where for so many years they stood. It's easy to imagine how the forest would appear to be filled with  eerie forms and weird beasts to folk in past times.

Old Oaky

Dotted through the stands of maturing Oaks and Beech are the isolated remnants of a more ancient forest. In the woodland adjoining Warwickslade is one such tree, a gnarled old Oak, battered by time and the elements it rests in the shade of its younger companions. These isolated individuals predate the enclosures and admiralty plantations, and speak of a far older more open landscape, though still a landscape which was not as natural as you might imagine; no, that landscape was long gone even in the middle ages. Rather what you'd have seen even in the Medieval period, when these older trees were but saplings, was already the consequence of thousands of years of human intervention and destruction begun by in the slash and burn land clearances of our Neolithic ancestors. Still it's nice to see these older trees, unbridled by the conformity required for timber production, growing to what ever form pleases them. But oh to see the wild wood when stretched from shore to shore, what a sight it must have been.

Reflective oasis

Whilst walking we came across this pond, tucked away in a hidden valley, swathed in woodland and fed by a clear spring which rises up through the Purbeck Hills, a sun drenched oasis surrounded by semi tropical flora. A magical find; it's amazing the things that lay hidden, just waiting to be found.

Ringstead

So he climbed a high hill and he looked out to sea.

And he heard a voice calling out softly to him.

Open your heart boy for it needs to be free.

And the next time you're crying come running to me.  

(Elation by The Levellers)

I remember first hearing what was to become my favourite Levellers song, Elation.  Feeling as I do about nature and following my pagan path the songs lyrics resonated and moved me. I understood. Nowadays it's common place to hear nature, her wooded dells, rolling hills, rugged coasts and wilder places referred to as 'green prozac' alluding to the healing properties found in embracing and immersing yourself in nature. I can certainly attest to its positive effects. When I walk with nature the treacly malaise which so afflicts me these days and through which I struggle to retain me dissipates, the grey clouds lift, the air clean and fresh fills my lungs and I feel free. I am indeed elated. I feel empowered, my head is cleared of all the worries and negativities which dog me. I resolve to fight the demons and doubts that plague me, I know that many are real, although I'm also aware that many of them are not and are more akin to the windmills at which Don Quixotic tilted; conjured from the minds of those who feel outside, downtrodden or disenfranchised on the fringes of hopelessness. I really mean it too, if only I could hold on to that found positivity on my return. Though sadly no. To say I love these wild places and how they make me feel would not be too strong.

No way!

Nature never ceases to surprise. We've lived next to the common for 20 years, over that period I've walked it more times than I can remember and never before have I seen Ceps (Boletus edulus) growing. I suppose it's a reminder that although today the common appears an isolated area of nature within an ever expanding suburban sprawl, it was once part of the greater forest and still retains that connection.

Autumn lady’s tresses

Another orchid to add to my list of orchids spotted, this time it's the beautiful Autumn lady’s tresses (Spiranthes spiralis), a new one on me.  From a tight basal rosette Autumn lady’s tresses have a delicate hairy spike which has leaves which appear more like scales so close are they, around this stem 10 to 20 tiny white flowers spiral; descriptions say that Autumn lady’s tresses can grow to 30cm, although the highest I saw were no more than 15cm and majority were no more than 8cm high at most. The flowers are comprised of a large curved white lower tongue which is greenish inside, two wings and an upper hood, like the stem the petals are covered in short white hairs; the flowers appear to be covered in tiny crystals. It's said they can appear in great numbers then disappear for years before returning in even greater numbers, this may account for why although I've walked the way for years I don't remember ever seeing them before. A really lovely find.

Earth stove

It's that time of year when my mind turns to bushcraft skills, in particular fire making and outdoor cooking.  To that end I decided to brew up whilst out today; and my lesson today was to be humility and the dangers of complacency and over confidence. As we walked I collected dry ferns, the outer papery bark of the Birch and thin dry twigs, this was going to be the basis of my tinder and kindling. At a suitable point (a spot by Red Rise Brook where I've traditionally practiced fire making) we stopped and I set about preparing. I'd decided to have a go a building a rocket style cooker directly into an earthen bank and so dug an L shaped hole; the horizontal hole was to be for fueling the fire and the vertical hole as a flue on top of which I'd place a metal peg as a cup/pan support.  Simple I thought. The structure completed I used a piece of bark on which to build my fire and to transport it to the fueling/fire hole. It didn't take me long to get a fire started and I was feeling rather pleased with myself, though my cockiness was a bit previous as keeping the fire going was a more difficult operation than I'd anticipated.  The problem I discovered was that the horizontal hole wasn't big enough to hold the fuel without almost being blocked and the vertical hole was, even with the cup support, almost smothered by the cup and consequently the fire was being starved of air flow. I had to remove the fire, make some adjustments and start again, and even then I had to keep blowing through to ensure the fires survival. All that said I did have a hot drink at the end of it and had had a healthy reminder of the dangers of over confidence.

Summer Bolete

A rare fungi find today, a Summer Bolete (Boletus reticulatus) a close relative of the Cep (boletus edulus) although more commonly found in mainland Europe than it is in these parts. Interestingly, I found this group (5, the rest being very young) in the same area as I'd last seen them 4 or so seasons back. I as say, a close relative of the Cep in all ways, the only really noticeable difference being colouring withe Summer Bolete having a darker reddish brown ca and a brown stem, other than that nothing really; also they're listed as being as good an eater as the Cep. I didn't collect though, they were nice to see and too rare for me collect.

Spuds

All the work put in on the allotment has really paid off this year with good crops of most of the things sowed/planted. There have been a few disappointments but no out right failures and so many meals have been had to date that I've already easily recouped all my investment several times over.  This years spuds for example are the best haul I've had and with any luck will see us through several months. There's something real about growing or foraging your food, it reconnects you to something buried deep inside, something primal, something human and something we are increasing being discouraged from in favour of rampant consumerism to fill our needs. A few years back research undertaken in primary schools showed that many children couldn't identify vegetables nor did did they know where their food came from, an example being children who didn't know chips were made of potato nor that potato grew underground. How fucked up is that? really!

Dr Who?

I stumbled across an intriguing piece of graffiti this afternoon. Barely legible on a venerable old Beech in Burly Old enclosure was carved 'Dr K Cor????, 218 BTY. RA. I know looking at the photo you'd think 'yeah really?' but faded by time as it is, that what was carved. The graffiti I reckon is Second World War in date (there are several other wartime pieces in the Burly Old, although most if not all are American) the 218 BTY. is surely 218th Battery and the RA must then be Royal Artillery; so checked out any wartime activities of that group locally. I discovered that the 218th Battery of the Royal Artillery was an anti aircraft battery stationed at one point around Southampton during World War Two; that would appear to fit. As for Dr K whatever, that in will no doubt be added to my growing list of the unanswered. Another piece of half explained historical graffiti.