Heavenly scent

Honeysuckle (Lonicera periclymenum) surely the most heavenly of woodland scents. I love it. Whenever I pick up Honeysuckle scent on the wind I float towards it like a cartoon character to pie, and when I reach it I'm like a dog with ass, I've just got to stick my nose right on in.

Apples

Lockdown and the aesthetic sameness to everyday, coupled with my groundhog day natured routine have had me feeling like I'm living outside of time. Trapped in my looped existence there have been times when I've honestly not known what day of the week it is, as they're all essentially the same. This has led to me being constantly surprised when I notice signs that the wheel has of course turned and it's not still March or April.  Today's surprise was brought to me by the apple trees over the common when I saw them laden with young fruits. In my mind it was only yesterday that I was photographing their emerging blossom.

Sharks Tooth

Following on from that last post. This is what a good sized shark tooth looks like when recovered from the marine clay before in reaches the intertidal. 

Baby teeth

Fossils are continually eroding out of the ever seaward crawling cliff face, by the time they reach the intertidal virtually all of the fragile shells have fragmented and crumbled. Only the sharks teeth tend to survive. Although by the time you find them along the low tide line, unless you're very lucky, they're usually quite degraded. They've survived unscathed embedded in marine clays for 40 million years, though being rolled amongst the sand and pebbles for a few months soon wears them down...eventually to nothing. Still, even the degraded ones are cool, it's always nice to find something of that sort of age.

Sunken sentinel exposed

I can remember a time when you could crouch inside the remains of this sunken World War Two sentinel half buried in the intertidal below the Barton slides, you could still just see through it's embrasures too. That was many years ago now though. The sands regularly reveal and obscure this old pillbox on a whim, though never to extent I'm talking about. Thinking about it, that was probably 30 years plus ago now. We headed out for our walk earlier this morning to avoid the potential of a gathering herd, getting to the beach by 0730, our objective was realized. It was a good move, only a handful of dog walkers and trio of horse riders, and they were all at the bunny end of the beach, so beyond the sunken sentinel the sands were ours alone. Happy days.

The beach

Back at the coast again this morning. The tide was out exposing a 30m beach and a further 20m's of shin deep shallows, allowing for easy distancing. I've been reluctant to brave the beach fearing herds of walkers (Walking Dead reference intended) and even at 0800 the sands were dotted with day trippers, though still easily manageable. The sea's so good for Geoff, it's good for his skin, he gets to cool down in the sea, he enjoys a swim, and he sees other dogs, he loves it here, that said, he loves it everywhere. We walked from Chewton Bunny towards Barton, past the eroding cliffs which are returning the landlocked inhabitants of a vast 40 million year old lagoon back to the sea. It was lovely, the further along we walked the less folk there were, until it wasn't long before our beach walk was undertaken in solitude. Looking back though, towards the Bunny, I could see a herd had formed at the Highcliffe end of the bay and so decided to take an alternative route home. Too many people don't appear to understand and are dropping their guard. We're still shielding my wife and so the shit's still real for us, whereas the actions of many folk would suggest that everything was all right now, the 'Rona' a thing of the past, that lockdown was a memory and normality had returned. I wish it had, and I wish I had their confidence....but it hasn't and I haven't. 

Oh Buoy!

Geoff was suspicious of this sizeable oddity on the beach in front of us this morning, approaching tentatively he periodically stopped watched for any movement and gave a unconvincing warning bark. The object wasn't at all bothered. The object turns out to be a visitor from the United States of America, a 2 ton buoy (phonetically 'boy' to us, or 'boo-ie' to America) which must have broken free from it's tethering chain (the remains of which can be seen attached) somewhere off the East Coast and bobbed across the pond. That's quite a journey, and quite a moment when even maritime furniture decides to flee Trump's America. When it arrived it had a structure on top, a light and 'x' symbol, where they've gone, I don't know. The coastal flotsam and jetsam never fails to prick the imagination.

Her church not made with hands

The forest looked like this today. It was magical. The Waterboys 1984 album Pagan Place has a track on it titled 'Church not made with hands', and today the forest felt just like that. Like natures expansive organic cathedral where the ancient trees were the mighty pillars holding up the high vaulted canopy roof. And the comparisons continued, the shaded stands were cool like a church, and dappled light danced amongst the trunks like the light cast through huge stained glass windows. That's where the comparison ends though, as of course, natures works will always outshine the works of man. Was lovely.

On a tangent, we saw a huge grass snake on our walk, it was a full grown adult, largest I've ever seen, must've been a full 1.5 meters long, and it moved fast, man, did it move. Our meeting had been to all our surprises, and our responses reflected that. My initial, aaargh, abated upon identifying a Grass Snake (Natrix helvetica), and was quickly replace with awe and wonder at our country's largest snake. Magnificent. Geoff had seen something new, and he wasn't at all sure he'd enjoyed the meeting. And, the snake flew, disappearing swiftly amongst the flora and debris of the woodland floor, in a style that highlighted just how it had lived long enough to get so big.

Hidden history

History never rests, it's always creating more of itself, so much so that most of what went before gets forgotten, especially the ephemeral.  We'll walk past historical hints all the time, totally oblivious to them or the parts they played. Take these iron loops on one of our local bridges, two pairs a meter of so apart, set into the bridges brickwork opposite each other, easily overlooked. Any ideas about what they could've been for? The only reason I know is that one of my archaeological interests are the home front defences/sites/features of World War 2. These are anchoring points for wire anti tank/vehicle obstacles erected during the early part of the Second World War, the invasion fear period, probably by local defence forces. Who'd have thought. They reckon this sort of defence would've been effective in at least slowing down the light armour the Germans would have been able to land, and stopped most other vehicles. I understand there was some kind of defensive structure covering the bridge too, possibly a pillbox or strong point, although no evidence of that endures. Everything out there tells a story, and everywhere has stories to tell.

Ay up chuck

The yellow orange hues of fresh Chicken of the Woods (Laetiporus sulphureus) clumps are noticeable in themselves, shine a light on them and, man, they fluoresce. You could spot this clump from way off amongst the stands of Brinken this morning. It's been an average year for Chicken of the Woods, plenty about, though not noticeably abundant. Something I have observed though is the amount of it that's been foraged. You'll always see the stumps of harvested clumps, although they're far more widespread and often clear cut this season, and from some awkward to get to spots too. To me that could highlight the reach of the media; during the 'panic buying' prelude to the covid lockdown I'd seen a marked increase in the number of articles relating to foraging...and here we are, a visible increase in foraging. It's unwise to underestimate the influence of the media.

Ents

Throughout the forest the Ents move freely.

Living history

My archaeologist/historian mind has frequently had me wondering what it must have been like living through different transformative moments in history. Sat on the site of the Medieval hunting lodge close to Queen's Bower this morning it dawned on me that I'm getting the opportunity to actually live through one such moment in history, or to be more accurate, a clusterfuck of such moments. The escalating climate crisis, deepening global economic crisis, the rise of populism, and separatism, social decay and an increasing frequency of epidemics and pandemics; that's quite a menu of moments. It's through our own agency too, we've brought ourselves to this moment, all the seed problems we've planted are all blooming spectacularly at once, in real time. The question is, will we make it to become history, or are we writing the final chapter?

Half Time

Half time.

Highland Meander

The majority of Highland Water escaped Victorian alteration retaining it's beautiful deep cut natural meanders. Between Roman Bridge and Queen's Bower the stream forms the boundary between Brinken Wood and Great Huntley Bank and later between Brinken Wood and Camel Green, it's all relatively open ancient/veteran deciduous woodland, and the riverside walking here is the finest of it's kind in the forest. Throughout the lofty canopies of huge beech who've come down to the river to drink set dappled light dancing over the banks and murmuring flow. It's a place to breath nature in deeply.

The Watcher

We lazed in White's Plantation this morning, enjoying laying out under the warming sun, it was glorious. Though it was changed from our recent lazes, today there was a slightly ominous air. Only a few short days after Johnson's change of message and already all over the increase in movement is palpable, nature's silence broken by the return of the low hum of human activity, occasional punctuated by the throaty roar of a speedster on the nearby A35. Remember in the Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers, King Theoden muses 'So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?' Well, I don't think it's reckless hate that now afflicts us, more abject indifference tempered with a soupçon of disdain. With threadbare credibility the Government seeks to hastily loosen lockdown, and moves to coerce people back into the service of the economy. We must remember to bow to Economy. We'd be fools to imagine the ideological cogs have ever stopped turning, on the contrary, they've made ground. Of course, the return is to be undertaken using prudence and common sense; 'trust us', 'you'll be safe', 'there'll be measures to protect you', words spoken in reassuring tone, unfortunately said measures are amorphous, cut as they are from the same cloth as Emperor Johnson's new cloths. Ooh, but don't the red tops, owned by those who couldn't be more removed from the people or the metaphoric 'front', love it, they rush to promote the Glorious leader's new narrative. We've all got do our patriotic duty, blitz spirit and all that, we've returned to a 'take on the chin for the economy' and 'herd immunity' mindset, though by stealth. Blue collar workers first of course, stay alert now, this is on you! Mulling it over I kept returning to Theoden's question, and kept coming up empty handed. What can you do? Alone most of us have no real agency to effect change, and I see no unifying banner being raised. It's frustrating. Then I remember an interview I'd read, ages ago, with the legendary Patti Smith, during the piece she'd briefly discussed living through the social collapse and chaos of late 70's/early 80's dystopian New York.  And I remember Patti Smith saying how she and others of the creative community got by through becoming, sort of, passive observers of it. I thought, you know, that's not a bad perspective to adopt. As much as you can, you have to exist outside of the madness, remain informed (in that respect Johnson's right when he says we should stay alert, we really must), just watch and wait stoically, like a Watcher from the Marvel universe. Ah comics, you can always find respite there too.

Cary Grace 'Covers Vol 1'

We arrived hope from our morning walk to find a delivery. Oh, happy day.  It was my copy of Cary Grace's fabulous 'Covers Vol.1'. I'd missed the initial release and due to licensing laws the tracks weren't available as a download or to listen to, other than the tracks I'd heard Cary perform live I could  only imagine what they sounded like. Now, I thought I had a good imagination, though clearly not, as Cary's interpretations of some hefty classics by the likes of Dylan and the Stones easily exceeded my already high expectations. I imagine covering other artists work must be trepidatious, so undertaking a whole album of covers must take bravery (more so than Ulysses maybe), though Cary appears to have taken it in her stride. The interpretations go well beyond simple covers, Cary's taken some well established and much loved classics and imbued them with that Cary Grace magic, and the results speak for themselves, she's made each track her own. What an excellent album, throughout the quality and production values are consistently superb, kudos must go to Cary et al for their always immutable high calibre performances. It's impossible for me to single out one track as a favourite, which ever one I'm listening to at any moment is my favourite. That said, the Bowie covers are really quite sublime, especially 'Queen Bitch' with it's dope New York proto punk aesthetic, but then there's the divine 'Black Country Rock', and hey, both Floyd tracks are truly something else.....see what I mean, impossible to choose. Being a multidiscipline artist Cary's attention to detail is immaculate, the CD, inner and sleeve all nicely mimicking a vinyl album, the lovely touch of a hand written thank you, all beautifully packaged in white and black tissue and housed in a tidy black cardboard box, with a hand drawn spaceship on the front. Pure class, man, and a pleasure in itself, even before you hear the music. I reckon these'll sell out quick, they did the first time! So don't hang about. Go here, buy one.          

Elder

I have a funny relationship with the Elder (Sambucus nigra), I love the flowers, love their flavour and have long utilized them along with Elder's powerfully medicinal (and again tasty) berries, though I'm wary of tree itself, aware of it's sanctity. I'm quite superstitious where natures concerned. It's home to the Elder Goddess, a mostly benevolent nature spirit offering blessings through her bountiful gifts, though you must always ask before you take, and folklore tells us that to cut down an Elder or burn it's wood is sure to antagonize her...and you don't want to do that. I don't even like trimming Elder, always offering placations, and never never burning any trimmings. The 'always asking before taking' (and thanking), is something I've long adopted across my foraging practice and has become second nature. It feels only right and proper. It's not just flowers and berries with Elder either, it's been understood since prehistory that all parts of the Elder offer practical uses. Another wonder of natures superstore, or as Naboo on The Mighty Boosh aptly described it...Shamansbury's. 

Schnauser

Over lockdown, when I've had a couple of quid spare, I've tried to buy something from bandcamp, musicians are having a hard time of it and hey, I love music, two birds and all that. Recently I bought a Schnauser cassette single. I've long liked schnauser, they have a original psychedelic sound, warm, theatrical, very British, it's both thoroughly engaging and absorbing, Alan Strawbridge has a fabulous voice too. If you're interested, there are two related bands The Lucky Bishops and Gothic Chicken, different, though all sharing DNA. Love one, I guarantee you'll love them all. Though I digress. Today my cassette arrived, and to my surprise was accompanied by a signed copy of the bands 2010 album 'The Sound of Meat', far out! I'd seen that you got a free signed copy when you bought a t-shirt, never imagined I'd get one with my paltry purchase. I was made up, man, how cool is that, so generous, made my day. Both cassette and CD are fabulous. Also, the band recently posted that there'll be a new album on the horizon. The cool just keeps piling up.

Tiny choppers

We've got this lovely Japanese Maple (Acer palmatum) in the garden, it used to be in my parents front garden, it was all oranges and reds, then one day the sawed it down and I saved it. Luckily it survived (it's been moved again since too) and when it grew back it grew back plain green, although come autumn it puts on a beautiful rainbow show of colours, it's quite a transformation. I don't remember it having as many 'helicopters' on it as it has this year, they're copious, it's a lovely sight, they're pretty little things.

The Locker Room Cowboys,

Bassist Andy Budge's project The Locker Room Cowboys have released their first single since the band's début on Fruits de Mer's triple vinyl compilation 'The Tree Seasons' (performing an outstanding interpretation of the Rolling Stones 'We, love you'), and it's very cool indeed. Two wonderful tracks 'Always Love You' and 'Revolutions'. 'Always Love You' has a lovely 60's folk rock-esque ambience, soothing jangly guitar and lovely backing vocalsa sunny afternoon of a song, whereas Revolutions' has a much  grander arrangement with a bigger sound, would work well in a film soundtrack I reckon, or...as the final track on an album, it's a fantastic number. I understand that Andy has the musicians lined up to record a Locker Room Cowboys album, now that's something I can't wait to hear. You gotta go check this out. A little side note, I love this image of Carrie Fisher, she was cool, and of course a definite childhood crush of any Star Wars fan of my generation.

Perspective

Can you see the wood for the trees? 

First harvest

One aspect of our localized lockdown walks is getting insights into the agricultural year of our locale. Since March we've seen fields ploughed and seeded, their crops sprout, sheep grazing amongst the solar panels, black lambs born elsewhere, and now what must be one of the years earliest harvests. Yesterday these fields were expansive seas of shimming shin high vibrant green grass, today nought remains. Harvested for silage, a flurry of huge tractor drawn trailers raced back and forth transporting this important resource used to feed cattle through the winter to the storage silos where it'll be left to ferment until required. 

Toady

Although he looks like he's in some form of reptile detention centre, he's not. Mr Toad is always free to visit the lotty, an enemy of the barbaric slug empire is a friend of mine. Hail, welcome and good hunting my warty ally.

Carpet of Oak

The cities tiny Oaks have now become a dense carpets of Oaks. It's a very cool sight. I find myself in a quandary though. I know you shouldn't usually removed plants from the wild, and all that, though I also know that these Oaks will be seen as invasive, encroaching as they are on the farmers field and are undoubtedly destined to be destroyed. Do I try and rescue some, replanting them in safer spots around our locale....or not? I have to say, I'm leaning towards...yes. Though there's an issue, I wont be able to move them with much chance of success until winter, so it's whether or not they survive the plough/strimmer until then. 

Warwickslade Cutting

Glorious walking today.

Vinyl release of Echo by Custard Flux

We returned from our walk this morning to find the posty had delivered treasures in the form of Custard Flux's vinyl release of Echo and bonus CD, and what groovy things. Musically, it's quality assured, that's Curvey's modus operandi, my review of this wonderful album is here, and my review of the equally lovely accompanying CD of bonus material is here. As for the physical product, ditto, quality assured, I went for the beautiful multi coloured version, it's a nice clean pressing, housed in a high grade sleeve. It's a real nice thing. If you haven't already, you really must check out Echo, and Echo's equally fantastic predecessor 'Helium', both are glorious listens.        

Camel Green Blossom

We usually see Hawthorn as a hedgerow shrub, regularly controlled and contained by the hedge layer and flail. Or as a manicured and tamed garden feature, like yesterday's Crimson Hawthorn. Out here in the forest though they've no such constraints, and make the most of their freedom, filling the understory with clusters of white flowers, reaching their blooms towards the sky.  You notice that through the year everything has it's moment to shine in the forest. Now it's the Hawthorn's time.

Crimson Hawthorn

We saw this stunning Crimson Hawthorn (Crataegus laevigata) whilst out walking this morning, what a beauty. I stood for a while taking it all in, it's a good sized shrub tree and was a real riot of colour. 

Beltane

As the Beltane sunrise comes around; 

and through leaf and bud new life abound.
Beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun; 

the God and Goddess again are one.
The Queen of May, and the Wildwood King; 

joined together as spring birds sing.

Timeless vows, are again renewed; 

and throughout the land new life imbued.
As flowers bloom across our land; 

we'll take our lovers by the hand.
We'll lead them to our secret places; 

and there, rejoice in loves embraces.
Whilst high on the hills, Bel fires burn bright;
in the joys of nature, we'll all delight.

Whatever your path, whatever your tradition; 

in the coming season, may your dreams see fruition.

Beltane blessings y'all.