Coneygeer Bottom

We found smoke filled stands when we arrived in the forest this morning. Forestry work never stops, you'd be surprised how much effort it takes to keep the forest looking postcard proper. The reality of the forest is that much of it is far from natural. I'm not sure what's going on here, although I think they're returning the land here to heathland...they don't usually go to such great lengths clearing and grading the land surface when preparing to replant. I could be wrong, time'll tell. Those fires will smoulder and smoke for days, today their wood-smoke smell would stay in my nostrils throughout our walk.

DDT 'Enter the Bend'

Cor blimey! This is really good, man. The fruit of a mind meld between members of psychedelic big hitters Carlton Melton and White Manna, 'Enter The Bend' by DDT (Dieter, Duvall and Taibi) is bloody marvellous! Enter the Bend is all rich organic flavours, heavy with psychedelic drones, deeply hypnotic shamanic trancey rhythms, with myriad streams of trippiness intricately woven  throughout, earthy as f*ck too. Enter the Bend picks you up and carries you off, time dissipates as you immerse yourself in the aural world DDT have crafted for our listening pleasure, the musicianship of all involved is, of course, top shelf. And, when the needle finally runs out of groove, you're left wanting more. I played it through four times in a row on receipt, and with each play I was drawn in further. It's a meditation, man. It's a quality pressing too, the vinyl comes in either a groovy splatter of ‘Multiple Greens’ (named after one of the tracks on the album) or classic black, all packaged in a sturdy sleeve and with a colour insert. Enter the Bend is surely one of the best releases of the year, check it out, it doesn't disappoint. This is the good shit, and no mistake!

Tree throw mysteries

Unexpected things you see in tree throws...a watering can. I wonder how that got there? Forestry works, or travelling folk maybe, wartime military even, there's a cluster of American World War 2 graffiti in Burley Old. Thinking about it, everything beyond soil and roots in a tree throw is unexpected really. 

Inundation

The forest's lower lying stands and open heath are inundated at the moment, the ground is sodden, saturated, every hollow, depression and channel is water filled, in fact there are areas of standing water throughout.  And as for the leafy woodland floor, well, that can not be trusted to have any substance. It took less than 10 minutes walking for my boots to become thoroughly waterlogged, after which point I found myself strangely liberated, being able to wander about this wet wonderland without a care, at one point, I even ended up thigh deep (shorts rolled up) navigating a submerged area of woodland. When the forest environment's like this it makes for interesting walking, and you'd be a fool not to take full advantage.

Christmas walk

The forest was really quiet this morning, near empty as everybody was busy cooking their Christmas dinner, not me, years ago we opted to go European and do the Christmas meal thing on Christmas eve, man, it makes Christmas day so much cooler. So I had Burley Old enclosure to myself, and as always, it was magnificent and majestic, the epitome of an English forest. A perfect place to sit a while and melt into nature.

Winter Solstice sunrise

Geoff and I set out in the dark this morning in order to reach a good vantage point to see the Winter Solstice sun rise. Our chosen spot was Holm Hill on the edge of Wilverley Plain with good clear views eastwards. Holm Hill's a nice vantage point on the edge of a promontory of higher heathland plain surrounded by on three sides by low bogland (Duck Hole, Crab Tree and Holm Hill), which I feel gives it an added something, our ancestors favoured wetland, and it's adjacent dry land. Sound carries in the early morning forest, I could hear walkers chatting on a track-way across Holm Hill Bog, and for a moment I was cowed from running through some Awen's, then I thought...what the hey.  As the sun rose I chanted, I beathed in the fresh clean morning air and it felt good. What a glorious sunrise, clear enough to see the sun itself rise above the horizon, though with enough cloud to make the sky interesting. And the light, man, the gorgeous orange hued morning light, it bathed the sparse stands and open heathland in gold. A cycle ends, a cycle begins, lets hope this one is better than the last, which, for me at least, was utterly shite. Solstice Blessings y'all.

Solstice Blessings

At Yule the Holly kings' reign is done; whilst the Oak kings' reign is just begun.
Longest night yields us longer days; the Sun reborn travels back our way.
Gather round with family and friends; now to celebrate that darkness ends.
In our hearts and beneath our feet; the seeds of futures dreams await.
Our march to spring is just begun; wassail to y'all 'till journey's done. 

Solstice blessing...flags, flax, fodder and frigg to y'all beautiful people /|\

Creek Bottom

What a difference a day makes. Normal service has been resumed.

Duck Hole

Heading towards Duck Hole Bog this morning, and to paraphrase Eric Olthwaite, ''Forest's wet today Mother, aye, very wet, even the dry bits are wet'', the forest is that wet. Still, it was glorious walking though, and a treat to walk under (nearly) blue skies.

Resistance through resilience

Resistance through resilience. As I said the other day, we're going to be under Conservative rule for at least a decade now, I reckon, or even longer.  For now, all we can do is resist, the Monbiot has the right idea, or at least is looking in the right direction...support each other, a ground up, community based resistance, building resilience. We can take inspiration in some part from nature. Take the old enclosure here, weather beaten, battered, the trees subject to endless elemental assault, and yeah, some fall, though even when slighted they still resist, remaining local features, offering support to other woodland inhabitants, floral and faunal, for decades, and as a whole the woodland endures. Visually too the woodland landscape of Burley Old reflects our own; over all our system endures, although our socio-political landscape is changed irrevocably. 

Get off my land!

Get off my land! Geoff and I came across a gang of quite fierce hogs out in Burley New enclosure this afternoon. I think they were Tamworths, to me they looked more boar-like than the other pigs we'd seen out to pannage, with long snouts and pricked up ears. Tamworths are supposed to be a docile but active breed, so maybe I misunderstood their inquisitiveness for fierceness, they were big buggers though, and so we took flight through the stands when they began running towards us. I wasn't scared or anything, you understand.

A weight lifted

I went to bed last night seething, angry at a country I saw as populated by a majority who'd shown themselves to be xenophobic and bigoted, myopic and wilfully ignorant *****, happy to celebrate their own craptitude. The exit polls had come in and it suggested a landslide for the conservatives, even after 10 years of ideological austerity, swathing cuts to public services, the associated suffering and 10's of thousands dead as a consequence.  Angry that so many had voted for a leader who shown himself to be a racist, a misogynist, a homophobic, a serial adulterer, a man sacked three time for lying...twice in political office, and arguably the worst Foreign Secretary this country has ever known. Angry that with the light of truth so thoroughly illuminating all the filthy lying corners of the Brexit argument, when every pro had withered and dissipated in that light, even then my country voted for the thing they now must have known was a lie, in an act of national suicide.  As I say, I was seething, although most of all I was frightened by the prospect of another 5 or 10 years of Conservative attacks, hardships, and what I knew would be coming for many of us. 

Although this morning I awoke to feelings of complete tranquillity and inner calm, as if a huge weight had been lifted from me...I felt freed. To be honest, I was taken aback, so striking and incongruous were these feelings in light of my outlook last night. It dawned on me that the one thing that was different from last night was that I'd relinquished hope, or more to the point...relinquished false hope. I've long seen hope as a dangerous and debilitating thing if not based in reality, and I'd allowed myself to be drawn into hoping for something, that in my heart of hearts, I knew was never going to happen, no matter how much I wanted it too.  I like Jeremy Corbyn, he's man of principle whose political record and long history of support for those who needed support spoke for itself. I agreed with him that we needed a new type of political discourse, I liked many of his policy propositions, and believe he'd have made a great peace time Prime Minister, and therein lies the rub, we're at ideological war and the enemy has the (politico) media industrial complex behind it, the most powerful of weapons. In my opinion Jeremy and the party's policy of non-engagement, of not coming out fighting, was a mistake, allowing the government and predominantly right wing media to salt the ground ensuring the seeds of Labour's messages would never took root, let a lone flourished. I knew there was never a chance of Labour winning, and yet I let myself hope, subconsciously (and consciously if I'm honest) knowing that was hope without a solid foundation. Well, I'm only human.

This quote resonated...''Whoever has nothing to hope, let him despair of nothing'', (Seneca, stoic philosopher 4BC to AD65).

Decembers Full Moon

An interesting Moon for our interesting times.

Solid Oak

This young Oak surveys his wintry kingdom. The Oak couldn't have picked a more exposed site. Up on the cusp of Spy Holms plain, above the open wet heath of Clayhill Bottom and the Brockenhurst Burley road, facing the strong prevailing westerly winds square on...that's a tough gig, right there.  Respect.

Burley Old hermitage

Burley Old is filled with man made curios, probably the longest serving and most enigmatic is one I know as the 'Hermitage'. It's been a feature of Burley Old for as long as I can remember, over 30 years, I think. I named it the Hermitage for it's proportions, it's a fair size, very well constructed and maintained (whether by the same person I don't know), although it only has a very small space inside it, only enough for one person to sit. It reminded me of a wooden interpretation of those beehive huts you find in Ireland, which I believe were types of hermitage. It's an ambition of mine to spend the night sat in the 'Hermitage' ... I've just not had the bottle yet. It's a weird old wood.  

Shooting plaforms

Wooden shooting platforms are a common sight throughout the forest, they've traditionally been used to 'manage' the deer populations, although I'm not sure whether they get much use these days. The deer populations have grown dramatically over the last decade or so. These are well solid structures, sturdy, remaining functional for many years, when they do require replacing they're rebuilt in the same areas, although they tend not to rebuild them on the same spot. I wonder if that's as the deer get wise, and pass that knowledge on to the youngers, taking alternative tracks. What I do know is that they're great spots to chill. Their elevated nature makes them first class observation positions (obviously), good places to set up with a flask, a snack, and to blend into the woods...watch and listen.

Bind Runes?

These look like Runes or maybe Bind Runes? I'll have to do some investigating.

A mystery resolved

I've long wondered about the creators of Burley Old's man-made oddities, what are their creations about...if anything more than follies, and non more so that the bounded clearing, which I've hypothesized about. Well, today I met the guy who created it and it wasn't created for any of the reasons I'd hypothesized. I thought there was something pagan about it, what with the 'offerings' which appeared to be left at points in the wheel, I was wrong, the offering/date relationship was purely coincidental. The clearing had developed over several years, and had begun by clearing debris which had fallen from the giant Douglas Fir into a subordinate Beech, and evolved over the years via a series of whims and observational changes to the well defined feature you'd see today. He asked if I was the person who'd left the Beltane blessing in the clearing, ''yes'' I said, he thanked me and we shook hands. He was a nice guy, friendly, he'd been walking these stands for 60 years (25 years longer than I), he had all sorts of knowledge, and you can never learn enough. We chatted about the changes we'd seen over the years, of the structures we'd seen raised and fall, both enthusiastic about the wood we frequented. Earlier in the year we'd both seen the Fox cub in the huge hollowed Beech, the guy had been feeding it, thinking is was going hungry, I told him I'd seen a freshly killed Woodpecker in there, he laughed. It was nice to meet someone who clearly loved this tract of land as I did, and I wondered how many more of us there are. Which put me in mind of an old Freak Brothers strip. 

Stag Brake

The small wooded clump of Stag Brake in its wet heathland setting.

Burley Old

Timeless Burley Old.

End of the road

Ah, a common feature of the wet season forest is the bridge or raised track which ends in an expanse of impassable mud. Today it's the bridge over Red Rise Brook. Honestly, it's such a frequent occurrence that you'd think it was intentional; extend it a few meters more and it would have reached the higher firmer ground. Still, it makes for hilarity as you try reach dry ground via a network of semi submerged sticks and branches.

Autumn's end

Bye bye Autumn, my old friend.

Now leaves are coming to end.

They gave us shade, they gave us dappled light.

Though winter's touch has seen them all take flight.

This is the end...

of Autumn. 

 

Hardcore

Make room for the mushrooms. So soft, so fragile and mostly water, that this Shaggy Ink Cap (Coprinus comatus) has been able to force it's way into the light through an imperceivable crack between the tarmacked pavement and a brick wall is quite amazing.

Hedgehogs

Currently all over the forest, wherever we walk, we see Hedgehog mushrooms (Hydnum repandum). It's quiet late in the season for them, they're usually spent by this time of the year, gone over and too often beyond use. Not this year. Maybe it's the rains coming late, or the lack of significant frost as yet. The hows and whys don't matter though, there's good eating to be had in this tasty and easy to identify mushroom.

Mark Ash

Around the forest the autumn tints are developing beautifully, Mark Ash today was absolutely magical. 

Sky

Today the sky had a lovely Rodney Matthews-esque appearance to it.

November Moon

November Moon

High light

The sun was low in the sky, and the denser areas of the common were already beyond it's reach by the time Geoff and I went for our afternoon walk. The woodland was already dark and quiet, with the cold quickly rising up through the stands, you could feel it clinging to any exposed skin. Though high in the tall Scots Pines the last rays of the sun still clipped the canopies, illuminating them, the contrast was striking.

A rhapsody to moisture

At the moment the forest is a rhapsody to moisture being performed against a backdrop of autumnal hues. It's magical, if not sodden and obstacle strewn, walking, with a glorious feel to it, as if something deep and ethereal is afoot. I could best describe the atmosphere as like wandering through a fairytale, expecting at any moment someone or something to hurry through the stands and the adventure begin. Maybe it was mythagos or something, there was certainly magic about...and, wet, lots of wet.

Lady's Mantle in the morning

I woke early this morning, before the sun had properly risen, outside I could faintly see stars as they slowly vanished into the creeping blue. I could also see that Jack had been busy, as over the rooftops and gardens there was a dusting of frost, the first proper one I'd seen this autumn too. Proper as it was, by the time I'd had my coffee and got together to go out, it had all melted...obviously not as hard a frost as I'd imagined. Still, it did leave the Lady's Mantle and other herbs beautifully bejewelled.  Which is always nice.

Yellow Brain fungus

Yellow Brain fungus (Tremella mesenterica) bursting out from one of the charred gorse bush remains which litter the slope of Rock Hills.  They're a very common fungus on dead wood throughout the forest, with their bright colour making them easy to spot in the dulling autumn heathland.

Clayhill Bottom

When you think of a forest, you think of trees, and of course there are plenty of trees in the New Forest, although I'd imagine that many visitors are surprised find that nearly half of the 'forest' is open grassland and open wet and dry heathland. The New Forest heathland is but a minor remnant of a extensive regional heathland which once spanned areas of Dorset and Hampshire, other pockets of which remain scattered across the two counties. I've said it before, the forest may look natural, though it exists as a direct result of clearance to facilitate ancient farming practice and is anything but a natural phenomena. Heathland would quickly disappear without vigorous management, you can see how rapidly birch and conifers colonize when left to their own devices. A grand landscape to roam at any time of the year, although in my opinion, it's barren beauty is best appreciated through the stark winter months. 

Solstice card pencilled

A positive aspect of our current wet weather (and early sunsets) is that by cutting my opportunities for procrastination it has encouraged me to get on and do some drawing. As a consequence I've finished the initial pencilling for this years Winter Solstice card.

Nearly

The colour changes in the forest are accelerating, out on the heath the bracken and heather are russet hued, whilst amongst the stands every shade of orange is represented. The colour change is particularly evident when a deciduous tree finds it's home amongst it's coniferous brethren. I love autumn's contrasting colours, nature's glorious last hurrah after a job well done. It's always difficult to predict whether or not the stands will achieve their potential magnificence colour-wise, that perfect splendour, there are finely balanced factors at play, sunlight, temperature and moisture all affect the breakdown of chlorophyll. Or how long the show will last, the wind has been wreaking havoc through the stands of late, branches down wherever you roam and a general hollowing the canopies throughout. Time will tell. Still, in the meantime the forest gorgeous anyway.

Tenacious tree

Trees teach us many things, such as, to stay grounded, to be patient, to keep growing and to weather life's storms. With reference to the last point, the forest is full of tenacious trees, ones that although mortally wounded, heroically stand firm against the relentless elements, some even appear to stand in defiance of logic and physics. Take this gnarled Beech who still reaches upwards and whose canopy still thrives, though doing so with only a tiny fraction of it's trunk remaining. Isn't nature wonderful.

Warwickslade Cutting

Today the forest looked like this.

Food of the dead

It being Samhain, I thought it quite apt that we should come across this tree still decked in rosy red apples. What with apples (and nuts, also still bountiful in the forest) being a food of the dead. Still, I was surprised to find a couple of 'eaters' out here in the forest, they were on what would have been a low bank running along the former path of the A31, and it's tempting to think that they're the progeny of a travellers picnic. A sort of accidental Johnny Appleseed type affair. You know, as part of our national tree planting program we really should plant more fruit bearing trees as part of a local, seasonal, sustainable subsistence model. Can you imagine?

Samhain

Mists rise as the veil to the otherworld falls.

Beyond the mists our ancestors open the doors of their halls.

Blessed Samhain y'all.

You ain't seen me...right.

You ain't seen me...right. We're coming towards the end of the rutting season in the forest, and the demeanour of area's near 1500 Fallow Deer community is beginning to become calmer. You can still see evidence of their well used rutting stands and rubbing stumps, although the roars of their throaty barks are becoming far less frequent. Their business done, they've melted back into the woodland. Though they're still there...watching.

King of the castle

Bless him, Geoff thinks he's king of the castle, when in reality he's a wet and dirty rascal, prone to bouts of selective deafness, with a penchant for eating poo. He's lovely though. 

Berry good year for Holly

It's been a bumper year for Holly berries (as it has been for all the forest fruits), the consequence of the right elements delivered at the right times. Folklore says that a bumper show of Holly berries is a portent of a bitter winter to come, the weather wizards have mooted similarly. Though, who knows these days. Most plant folklore has it's roots in truth somewhere, you can see it, it makes sense, although our current chaotic weather and overarching climate crisis are causing those truths to be tested.

Warwickslade pond

Warwickslade pond, a seasonal watering hole returned.

A time to reflect

As Samhain and the end of the year approaches, walking through the forest is a perfect time to reflect on the year just gone. I hope the Fates were kind to you.

The Past Tense 'Time stands still' on 7'' orange vinyl

We are the Mods (repeat), we are, we are, we are the Mods! I could just leave it there, as I reckon that sums up what you've got here quiet accurately. I remember chanting 'we are the Mods', during the late 70's Modernist revival, I loved everything about mod culture, though in particular I loved, and still love, the music, both that of the 60's and the revival era. So, what a lovely treat listening to The Past Tense is, I'd first heard them when they performed the opening track on FdM's 'The Three Seasons', a smashing rendition of The Attack's 'Magic in the air'.  'Time Stands Still' is all original 60's  tracks from both sides of the Atlantic, plucked from the period when here Mods were discovering psychedelics and America had turned on, tuned in and was dropping out, and that cultural mind shift was reflected in the music of the period. The Past Tense have taken that distinct 60's Mod psyche sound, infused it with elements of the later 70's/early 80's modernist revival sound and have masterfully brought it into the present. You can tell that The Past Tense love Mod music too, they must do to have reproduced that sound so perfectly, the care and attention to detail they've employed creating an endearing authenticity to their sound. Many of tracks are from bands, that if I'm honest, I'd never heard of, but, man, all of the tracks are pure gold. This release is another FdM ferrero rocher moment, as not only is there 'Time Stands Still', a lovely four track orange vinyl 7'', there's also an accompanying ten track CD 'Across the Pond...And back again', marvellous. Spoilt, or what! Check it out here.