Bratley Wood

I never forget how lucky we are living as we do in such a fantastically diverse party of England. At the weekend we were walking the world heritage landscape of the isle of Purbeck to our west, the area of outstanding natural beauty of Cranborne Chase is within easy access to our north, and of course, the wonder which is the New Forest stretching to our east, on our very doorstep. A golden triangle of landscapes.  Today we were roaming the open woodland of Bratley Wood in the New Forest, an area of woodland pre-dating enclosure and filled with ancient pollarded Beech and Oak, venerable leviathans. The woodland is more open now, as over the last 30 years old trees have succumbed to the elements; there are rotted hulks scattered here which were felled in the Great Storm of '87. It's wonderful walking. Bratley's towering trees of ancient date have a majesty unlike any of the other forest woodland. That's a thing about the forest woodland, although usually a mix of similar species and often within a similar age range, each has a unique air and quality. Bratley is one of those with a timeless quality. Amongst the wooded fringes which flank Bratley Water (which flows below Brately Wood) I disturbed a resting stag, who startled, rose, barked and watched me intently.  We stood watching each other for a few minutes, he'd occasionally bark and I'd reply, he'd stamp a foot and I'd do the same...stalemate.  Eventually, we'd both had enough, and went our separate ways. It was an interesting interaction, though I fear I'm no Doolittle. Shortly after I found a shed antler bathed in Autumn sun, lying ready for me to find. Dropped amongst the thin straight trunks of a Beech and Birch block (one of several) planted some years back to fill the holes in Bratley's canopy.  There was a lot of deer activity in the woods today.  A lot of energy in the woods all round.