Sands of time

Graffiti marks a moment in time, though this graffiti carved in to the the brightly coloured sands of Redend Points sandstone cliffs will not stand the test of time. Layer upon layer of overlapping graffiti, much undecipherable, cover all the exposed and accessible sandy surfaces of the Point, where most of the exposed sandstone is at the red/yellow end of the colour spectrum and create perfect swirling canvases, easy to carve into too.  

War torn or just forlorn

Slighted, though for the most part not in war; much of the World War Two archaeology on Goldlingston Heath and the Studland peninsula were just left forlorn, and have fallen to the ravages of time, a different battle in an endless war. A lot of the areas wartime sites were war torn, it's true, though not by an enemy, but by the allies; the Studland peninsula was an off limits secret training and weapons testing area. The beaches saw rolling artillery and rocket barrages from landing craft, the development and testing of 'Hobarts Funnies', and all manner of other preparations for defence and the D-Day invasion, culminating in live fire exercises watched by massed allied commanders. From the invasion fears period of 1940, right through to the end of the war, Studland saw military activity, in fact, it was so heavily used that it wasn't until the 1960's that areas of the beaches and dunes were cleared of ordinance and re-opened to the public. Some years back I had to call the rangers to contact Bomb Disposal after discovering a live wartime rocket protruding at 45 degrees amongst the dunes. The above sites; the remaining section of a line of Anti Tank Obstacles (ATO's)  at Bramble Bush Bay and a Type 25 Pillbox beneath Redend Point survived the war years intact, and haven't done too badly since, though the rigours of time are beginning to show, and the cracks are beginning to appear. I first saw these sites in the 70's and have witnessed their decline first hand. Over the years the ATO's have become undercut and are toppling, and as for the Pillbox, I remember when it was still well up the cliff side, rather than in the intertidal.  I suppose it's quite a wonder that they endure at all, after all most of the Studland peninsulas wartime sites, as with military buildings throughout the country at the time, were constructed in haste and with diminishing resources. 15 years ago I spent a lot of time recording the wartime sites on Goldlingston Heath and the Studland peninsula, I feel it may be time for a review of them.

It was the Devil what done it!

It was the Devil what done it! Or at least that's what folklore says. They say the Devil was watching the building of Corfe Castle (in other versions it's Salisbury Cathedral) from the Isle of Wight, and for some reason decided to throw a massive rock at the site; probably something to do with Christians, he's not keen on them. The Devil's rock fell short, and that's how the Agglestone came to be where it is, on a prominent knoll on Godlingston Heath.  It used to be anvil shaped, although due to erosion toppled to it's current position some years ago, and it's eroded some since then again. It's a nice spot though, with lovely views, and well worth a visit.

Going, going, go......

Going, going, gone. That's it, all but for a few here and there, the forests stands are bare, their leaves a rich carpet of russet hues on the woodland floor.  Now Jack and the Holly King rule unchallenged, for a while anyway, until Sol and the Oak King are in ascendance, and the fight for dominance starts again.

Well! Will you?

I wonder how that went? After a romantic forest walk, very well probably. Well, it's only superficially carved, so if it didn't go as planned, it should disappear, ......in the end. 

Brockis Hill

Today is a perfect end of autumn day. The air is chill and clean, but for occasional whiffs of wood smoke which drifted though the stands, cementing the sense of autumns end and winters swift approach. It's not too cold, mind, frequently old Sol is free of cloud, and still has enough strength to cast out a warming glow. It's quiet too. Jobs done, and shop closed for the winter break, for the most part the forests critters are resting. Not the squirrels though, they're still darting about. The canopies to are also quiet, with their leaves now grounded, the tree tops sway in silence. It's lovely walking, difficult under foot, though lovely. This part of the forest is wet, even the leaf carpeted woodland is wet under foot, and you'll be walking 3 or 4 inches below what looks like the surface. It makes for a lot of slipping and sliding. The sun is nearing the horizon as I walk back, a dirty looking cloud drops it's load lightly. 'A fox's riddle, and a monkey's dance' is what my mother used to say when the sun shone and it was raining at the same time. I've always remembered it, and wondered about it's meaning. Metaphors for the juxtaposition of conditions, and the mischief it suggests, I'd imagine. 

Psychedelic subway

Out of the forest, and into the psychedelic subway. I know some folk deplore graffiti, though I love it. Not tagging, or that shit, that's more to do with ego than art. But art like this which brightens and makes an interesting feature of what's just bland dank concrete, I'm all for. In fact, I must admit to being tempted myself to brighten up one of the forests many subways. Who can it offend? Who's bothered by it? Why? It put a smile on my face. I particularly like the cat, both in style and colouring.

Woolly donkey

A dozen beautiful woolly donkeys crowded round a fallen Holly tree for a spiky feast.  

Isle of the dead

'The Butt' a substantial Bronze Age bowl barrow on Janesmore Plain in the north of the forest. I've long wondered if the origin of our 'Isle of the Dead' references in story, legend and myth isn't in this type of prehistoric monument. This barrow is after all, when it's surrounding ditch is water filled, an island which houses the dead. Or, maybe the barrow was designed to symbolize just that, and the original story stretches right back into prehistory. Whatever, I know there's a connection. Prehistoric people revered water and watery places, these were magical, life giving places where deities dwelt; they saw mounds as symbolic too, often as portals, or places to move between, of transition.  Anyway, this barrow (best in the forest, in my mind) perfectly symbolizes an isle of the dead.

Psili

Not a thing you see that often this late in the year, Psilocybin Semilanceata, and growing in a very exposed environment too. Another bit of seasonal weirdness, or an example of changing climate, maybe? I say that as, you always will see anomalous mushrooms, one or two, though I saw quite a few Psilocybin Semilanceata this afternoon and quite widely distributed too.  I don't remember seeing these quantities so late in the year before.

More '44

I spent 2 hours yesterday, and an hour today wandering to and fro through Ocknell enclosure looking for a certain piece of graffiti, though with not luck. I think the trees are playing a game, the forest has a sense of humour, musical trees or some such. Though I did discover another great piece of graffiti 'H.D U.S.A 1944'. I love graffiti, all those stories you get to imagine; of course you'll never know the truth, still. And, I have a special affection for Second World War graffiti, it's so emotive, and non more so that the American stuff. I think I've discovered about 15 pieces so far around the forest, all from '44 (when dated that is, as several were just initials with US or USA); a period which saw the forest fill with Americans in preparation for D-Day.  With so little to go on it's impossible to identify individuals or units, not enough information usually, though by association with other graffiti in the wood I can make some reasonable assumptions about this one. I'm determined to find the other Ocknell graffiti I'm looking for, it's another American one, though this time with greater provenance which will illuminate this piece too.

Still not out.

I was walking in Ocknell enclosure looking for a piece of graffiti when I passed this fallen beech, which over the years has become a focus for graffiti, so much so that nearly all the available surfaces have been inscribed. Only a handful of these were done before the tree toppled, the huge majority were done in the years after. As many appear to have been done through the 90's, many thereafter, as well as more recent additions, it would be fair to think that the tree must have come down some time after 1990.  Though tucked away behind a bough is 'Sept '72', clearly written since the trunk's been horizontal. This tree has been down for some 45 years, it doesn't look it, and still it produces leaf. 45 years down and still not out, and still an important feature in the forest.

Sea Trout

Now, there's something you do see (dead or alive) every day, a Sea Trout (Salmo trutta). They're here every year and in great numbers it's reckoned, though they're not frequently seen, which is quite a wonder at their size and the shallow nature of the streams they frequent.  When autumn turns to winter the Sea Trout return to the gravelly shallows towards the heads of the streams in which they were spawn, in order to spawn themselves. This one had entered the forest from the Solent via Lymington and had made it right up into the high reaches of Highland Water. Sadly this good sized 50cm long trout lay, part eaten, on an exposed gravel bed adjacent to a very narrow channel, not that much bigger than the trout, and no doubt were it was caught.  It had been recently too, the blood was still wet and it looked very fresh. I may even have disturbed whatever had caught it with my approach. I wonder if it had spawned or not? It's amazing to think these tiny forest headwaters have fish of this size in them, and a good indicator of the forests well-being, maybe.

Tenacious Tree

The tenacity shown by some of the forests trees in their resolve to endure is astounding. The bulk of this veteran Beech is long gone, only a hollow veneer of bark remains as a trunk. Just one lower bough, which looks like it survived whatever did for the tree, still reaches for canopy.  Though still it endures, it still strives for a place. The grasping bough has a myriad of branches trusting from it in all directions, it looks healthy and clearly bore leaf; a few leaves still cling on in denial of winters approach.  How long has it stood like this? I don't know. Though so long as for nothing to remain of its debris amongst the litter. Remarkable. The forest is full of wonders.

Magic Bus @ The King Arthur 17.11.2017

Another fantastic performance tonight by Magic Bus, who pulled into Glastonbury to stop at the King Arthur, inviting anybody who dug a good groove to step on board. If you don't know Magic Bus (sort that out!), they're purveyors of the finest musical flavours. Magic Bus have picked up the Canterbury scene baton and run with it, a soupçon of West Coast, a smidgeon of folkiness and they've created a wonderful colourfully wrapped stick of complexed psychedelic rock, with rich jazzy prog sensibilities running through it. You hear a Magic Bus song, you know it's Magic Bus; they've developed their own strong sound. And,  man, they really are very good. The last few times I've seen them I've felt that the bands delivery had been becoming a touch heavier, and that carried on this evening with all the band members taking the sound a little bit deeper. That's no complaint, mind. There were two sets, both a marvellous mix of tracks from the bands 3 albums, and all of which flowed beautifully. The first set was heavily 'Phillip the Egg' (their current album) orientated, though with a track from each of their previous albums; tracks such as 'Mystical Mountain' from 'Phillip the Egg', a favourite of mine, along with the west coast influenced and delightful 'Back to the Garden' off their first album 'Magic Bus' and 'Three Days' a jazzy Canterbury/Gong-esque treat from 'Transmission from Sogmore's Garden'. As the guy of jazz club says......nice!  The second set was previous album based and just as glorious; tracks like the joyful 'Sunflower', or the floaty 'Magic Bus' and the space jazz 'Distant Future' to cite a few.  The band played every track magnificently. We know the rhythm section is the foundation on which a good band is built, and Wihll Mellorz does stirling work on bass, whilst Billy Burl's drums were solid, both drove the songs along at a perfect pace. Over this foundation Jay Darlington hung his rich tapestry. I love Jay's keyboard work, it's perfect, he channels a Canterbury-ish sound so warm and immersive. It's wonderful. Jay augmented that sound tonight with some great space rock-esque synth, partly in place of the flute sections. It worked nicely. Whilst Terence Waldstradt let rip on lead guitar, really letting his fingers do the talking with some masterful noodling. I also thought Terence was more present in the harmonies tonight. Throughout, Paul Evans on guitar and vocals, delivered his wonderful whimsical lyrics with the perfect wistfulness they deserved. Paul's a great lyricist and has got a voice made for narrative songs like 'Mystical Mountain' or 'Trail to Canaa'. All together, the band created a sumptuously rich sound with so much depth you just wanted to sink into it; a 'Bus' gig is a joyous affair. After a nice rendition of the Grateful Dead's 'Franklin's Tower' as their final number, the crowd wanted more, and the band were cajoled into playing 'Zeta' (the track they opened with) again. Bloody marvellous! Even with two sets, it wasn't long enough; another first class performance from an ensemble who never let you down. Over the last couple of years I've seen them on several occasions, each a fantastic performance, and they just keep getting better; definitely a band who always to bring their 'A' game. A psychedelic combo, which as their name implies, are magical. Only sad part of the evening was to see flautist/vocalist Viv Goodwin-Darke had got off the bus at a previous stop, Viv's magical jazz flute and lovely harmonizing were a real joy. I don't know if she's got a return ticket? Whatever, I wish her the best and thank her for her part in previous memorable gigs. As for the 'Arthur', our not so local local, it still tops the venues of class and character list. Nice staff, friendly clientèle, great sound and always the choicest bands. I salute all involved in another lovely evening.

Mark Ash autumn

The autumn show is muted this year around the forest; some years it goes like that. It's a combination of things, and it's not been helped by the winds of a while back which stripped the crowns of much of their glory.  Still, as always, the forest is nevertheless beautiful, and Mark Ash is a particularly beautiful area. Ancient Oaks and Beech dominate open forest, it feels old, around these majestic trees lay the hulks of their fallen comrades returning to the earth, all, adrift in a sea of bracken. Sadly more will be joining the fallen, last year saw an awful lot of damage done by hungry ponies gnawing bark; some trees had their bark removed completely up to a metre high. These 'ringed' trees are very unlikely to survive, and although may remain features for years to come, they'll no longer contribute to the canopy. Sad. Though my walk today was thoroughly uplifting. 

Don't just accept

Ah, Children in need, another opportunity for society to indulge in cognitive myopia. There are questions we need ask ourselves, starting with, in a first world country, which boasts being the 5th richest in the world, why are there so many children in need? Why do we accept hundreds of thousands children languishing without the treatment or support they need? Why do we accept 3.7 million children living in poverty (1.7 in severe poverty)? Why do we accept hundreds of thousands of young people suffering depression? Doing things to raise money is noble and worthy, though it accepts the need without questioning it, and so perpetuates it. Rather we should be outraged and ashamed, calling for immediate action in the face of the ever increasing number of children in need, and the breadth of those needs. Do you know this is the 37th year of children in need, and every year that need has increased. Of course, the establishment support and endorse Children in need, they'll often appear on it. It's become an institution, they'll say. They love it because it distracts us from the facts that there are children in need by design and policy, or at least through ideology. But of course I'm just being a killjoy, tonight celebrities will do their thing, people will be thoroughly entertained, they'll go, ah, donate some money, job done, and forget. Then ironically, tomorrow many of those people will return to supporting the same old policies which put children in need. Same time next year?

Jack cometh

Jack's letting us know he's coming, his dominion is near. First frost I've seen this year. Light maybe, but frost nevertheless.

Tyneham Cap & Gold Down

The valiant Sun, shining wearily in a pale blue sky whispered autumn, though the chill winds that scour Tyneham Cap and Gold Down shouted winter. To add to the confusion, throughout my walk sporadic blocks of cloud delivered moisture, because rain is loyal to neither season and will happily fall in any. The coast though was absolutely stunning; it always is. Standing at Townley Shenton's seat, high atop the 167m high knoll of Tyneham Cap, no matter in which direction you point yourself, you're faced with jaw dropping views of exquisite natural beauty. It doesn't matter how many times you've seen these views (and we've seen them hundreds of times), they never loose their wow factor. As cloud scoots across the sky, light dances over the rugged coastline and cliffs, across the ancient drystone walls, copses and hedges of the arable/pasturable patchwork which cover the valley, and through the high rough grassland which cap the hills and ridges.  These appear timeless scenes, scenes which draw you in, scenes that touch something deep inside you; there's something about wild places, or places steeped in history which make your spirit soar. Purbeck is one of those places, Purbeck is a landscape you feel. As if to reinforce my feeling that I was walking in a landscape walked for thousands of years, I picked up some worked flint flakes, from the edge of a ploughed field high on the ridge and was instantly connected to someone who walked here in prehistory. Marvellous.

The Great House

I took my leave of the permitted paths through the Purbeck ranges to go exploring, and visit the forlorn ruins of the seat of the Bond family for over 500 years, Tyneham House. Tucked away in the Great Wood, Tyneham House was once, by all accounts, a majestic building with its origins in the early Elizabethan era, and packed with interesting period features, it was said to be one of the finest houses in the county. Even now you can see it must have been something, and the setting...wow, what a place to call home. That goes for the whole valley, which is beautiful throughout. I crept stealthy through the woods towards the old house, eyes and ears open for any movement along the track; I still get that same rush I got as a kid when I'm somewhere I shouldn't be. I'd visited the house with a friend once before about 25 years ago, and I could see straight away how much the house and its environs had changed. Since the 90's the undergrowth has rapidly encroached, climbing the walls, up through the windows, filling courtyards, corners and doorways; nature is eating the house. Though it's in the garden that I noticed the greatest changes, now so overgrown and swampy, where nature is reclaiming what was once hers, Mythago Woody style. When I was here last you could still see the fading semblance of a formally landscaped manor house garden, not so much now. Seeing the ruinous state of the buildings you'd imagine the house was destroyed when the Tyneham valley and all therein were requisitioned for training during World War Two. Though you'd be mistaken. Tyneham House was used a accommodation for the Brandy Bay radar station WAAF staff during the war years, and survived unscathed, remaining intact right into the 1960's. The destruction you see here was done by the army, though primarily through neglect and then after the army had decided that the house couldn't be restored, they destroyed it intentionally. Why they thought that was the right course of action, I don't know; photos of the period show the house in a dilapidated though restorable condition. Some sources suggest that it wasn't that the house couldn’t be restored, but that everything of salvageable value, panelling, stonework, features, things like that, had been removed by the army, and that was why the building was razed.  They also suggest the army realised their mistake and that's why Tyneham House remains off limits, hidden from the public, even though it was the most important building in the village. I don't know, thaey could just be stories, I know whatever the reason, it was a sad waste. Even with all the damage (and the house is damaged far more than any other in the village), there's still so much to see here; as well as the main house you have all the ancillary building and features which kept it going. Today was a nervous recon, now I have the lay of the land, I plan to research the site some more and return in spring for a better look about, see what can be found of the old house and garden. There is one feature particularly that I'm excited about exploring, though that's for another post.

Gate

As a child did you or your chums ever mix up the neighbours gates? I remember most of the gates in our local roads being conveniently interchangeable.  We'd go out late, and as quietly as possible, we'd change all the neighbours gates around, mix them up. No damage, or ought, just a nuisance. But this, this is just taking it too far.

Autumn tints

The forest's Beech are slowly taking on autumn tints, and they look radiant. Though they'll need to be quick, as the winds are taking their toll, and already the canopies thin. We were walking through blizzards of falling leaves at times on today's walk, and on the forest floor a colourful litter is forming. It's a good time to be out in the forest, that said, it's always a good time to be out in the forest.

Bearded Tooth Fungus

A rare find on today's walk (or as described in some sources...very rare), a large specimen of Bearded Tooth Fungus (Hericium erinaceus). It's a big pumpkin size example, though sadly, it's well through its cycle, its colour has changed from brilliant white to salmon pink-ish, its long dangling teeth are beginning to wilt and drip amber droplets. Apparently they're edible when young, and something of a delicacy (I think someone had previously cut a small chunk off). I 'might' have taken a small piece myself had I found it earlier, though harvesting something so rare, isn't really my bag.  I'm happy just to have found it, to have seen something I don't remember seeing before.  The forest is good for that.

We'd have fought them on the beaches

Churchill said we'd fight them on the beaches, though would we have stopped them? Would we have won?  On the beaches, no. In the longer campaign, apparently, yes. In the 1970's 'Operation Sea Lion', the 1940 German invasion plan was war-gamed by 30 British and German military experts and was umpired by three military commanders (air, land, sea) from each country. Initially, the Germans broke through the coastal defences and pushed 10 miles inland establishing a beachhead, though the forces that made it ashore became overstretched and lacked supplies, and as the Luftwaffe couldn't dominate the skies, so Royal Navy was able to successfully stop any German re-enforcements or supplies reaching the beleaguered forces. The game started on September 19th 1940 and by the 28th of September 1940 the remaining German forces either escaped back to France or surrendered and were imprisoned, the umpires unanimously declared the German invasion a failure. Like many other beaches, Kimmeridge was hastily defended in 1940, of those defences 2 type 25 pillboxes and 2 lines of 'Dragons Teeth' anti tack obstacles remain. The ATO's and pillbox in the 2nd and 3rd photos have recently been cleared of invasive growth, whereas the other end of that ATO line have almost disappeared under natures blanket.  Even though many of these wartime defences have been removed from the archaeological record, you'd be surprised at how many remain hidden and forgotten, a testament to the extent of the defences thrown up in 1940.  

Kimmeridge ledges

The tide was out, at it's lowest for the day, although about to turn, when I arrived at Kimmeridge. I'd parked up in the old quarry above the village, about a mile from the coast with it's fantastic views over this scoop in the Purbeck hills, and it's free.  I walked through the village with its impressive new fossils museum and along the edges of the sticky fields down to the sea. I say the tide was out, it was by no means as out as it can be, though still allowed for access along the under-cliff east of the bay. Care needs to taken when walking here, the tide can come in faster than you'd imagine, it's difficult going and there's no access off the under-cliff at the Egmont end; that's a 3 mile plus race against the tide if you get your timing wrong. The rising tide will also cause you to walk closer to the cliff base, not a good idea, throughout my time on the under-cliff the sound of falling debris was near constant. I bottled it knowing the tide was on the turn, and only went as far as Clavell's Hard, about a third of the way along. When the tide is proper out, you can walk out some distance on the ledges here, and you're afforded fabulous views of the coast. For example, the top photo shows the coast westwards, with the magnificent Gad Cliffs in the middle distance. The Gad under-cliff has always held a magical attraction to me, as it's never open to the public and so still wild; I walked there for the first time last year, it's forbidding terrain, no paths, just slides, rocks and prickly thicket. The Kimmeridge under-cliff is very different, flat ledges like patterned rock pavements, and the remains of other broken flat ledges are interspersed with pebble and shale scree beach.  Fossils are common on the foreshore, most easily spotted are the familiar shapes of Ammonites. There's so much to see, Kimmeridge is within the Purbeck Marine Wildlife Reserve, the rock pools and rock ledges are teeming with life. It's also a well known surf spot too, and there were plenty of surfers, catching some nice looking waves. What a beautiful day.