Burley Old clearing

The clearing in Burly Old has continued to slowly develop through the year, I think consolidated and expanded would be apt. It's rustic palisade has been substantially reinforced and strengthened, it's now quite impressive, the entrances have been barred to keep out ponies and it's regularly maintained, the floor's always swept clean and there's food for the myriad birds who frequent it's bounds. It's a lovely spot, clearly made and kept with love and attention to detail. In my opinion it's functional woodland art, and recently the artist as expanded their canvas. The environs beyond the central enclosed area have been tidied up, the whole project's coming on nicely. We stayed a while and watched the birds come and go, today it was mainly Robins.

Today

Our walk this morning started like this and 7 miles later finished like that. The transformation in-between times was striking. What a wonderful world.

Ferny Knap Barrow

Jack had been busy in the forest overnight, the moat of Ferny Knap's larger Iron Age Round Barrow was frozen solid, and the heather and browned bracken which cover and surround in were dusted crunchy white. A stunning winter world.  It's been a long while since we've seen the forest like this, too long in fact. This is premium walking weather, and rare enough for it to be really savoured and enjoyed.

Last full moon of the year

The sky was for the most part clear for the last full moon of the year, and it was cold too. The moon shone majestically. I'd had to settle for reduced fires last few full moons. The sense of openness around the fire was exaggerated by us having hard cut our Hazel trees in autumn and more so by our neighbour removing the thick mature mixed deciduous hedge that bordered our properties, bummer really, it's dense twisted branches and seasonal berries were popular with so many birds. I'll plant anew, that's the plan anyway. The fire burnt bright, the best fire I'd had in ages and I enjoyed it's warmth and dancing light. Well. What a truly shite year it's been, pandemic, brexit, a sense of profound political, ideological and social change, coupled with the appreciation that swathes of my country folk are either cognitively lacking or emphatically deficient, or both. Worst of all the understanding that there's absolutely no chance of the social or environmental changes we required whilst society is structured as it is and people are arses, only the illusions of change. There are things I'm still grateful for mind, some I'm really grateful for, and I for those I give my humble and heartfelt thanks.

Creepy bog woodland

When winter's set in proper, Camel Green literally sinks into it, becoming as creepy a fairytale woodland as you could imagine. Once flooded it takes months for the waters to disappear. In the meantime unless you're wellied you'd best choose your route well or at least be prepared to double back because of unpredictable depth waters or fallen decaying debris or a combination there of. Or of course, you can accept getting wet. I think rendering in black and white only adds to the sense of creepy.

When the Warm Times Come by Andy Roid

 

It's the time of year for gifts and Andy Roid's (Here & Now, Music of the Andys) latest single release 'When the Warm Times Come' is just that, a real Yuletide treat. 'When the Warm Times Come' was written to celebrate the Winter Solstice in 2019 and incorporates a wonderful poem of the same name by Norman Lies. As you'd expect from Andy's music it's deeply atmospheric, all rich textures creating almost tangible soundscapes. The opening eerie drone slowly twists and morphs into a haunting retro 80's sci fi style vibe, through which weave threads of the mystical and magical, of something approaching or emerging, dawning, it's audio but you can't help but experience it almost cinematically. Andy's an electronic/synth wizard for sure. To my ear some Andy Roid tracks have something of the 70's weird to them, a sense of something mysterious just out of view in the shadows, something unearthly or otherworldly maybe, there's definitely some of that going on here. Bassy yet sharp reverberating electronic sounds mark your arrival in an alien space, a strange futuristic world, then the introduction of Norman Lies earthy pagan flavoured poem juxtaposes the two worlds of scifi and nature sending them swirling and blending seamlessly. Wonderful stuff. It works perfectly as a captivating aural accompaniment to our strange times, and in the poem we find hope, an understanding of the timelessness of the seasonal wheel balanced with an anticipation of better times to come. Lovely. Go check it out, and his other releases on his bandcamp whilst you're there.

Take care now

 You've got to take care with the forests fences, they're really very sharp!

Burley Old

 Burley Old.

Home base

 Home base. One of their earlier branches.

Winter Solstice

No Sun to warm the spirit this Winter Solstice morning, though the other elements stood in to take up the slack; the earth was solid beneath our feet, the rain washing our amassed worries lose as winds blew the years emotional detritus asunder. The lack of tangible horizon may have obscured our view, though I know the Sun returned and with him a kernel of hope. No day day for a sunrise photo mind. So instead here's a picture of a White Buck, symbolic of cleansing and renewal, it was taken a couple of days ago in the forest, a blessing to behold.  Of course, he was easy to spot, it wasn't until I was editing the photo that I noticed his two companions, one either side of him. How wonderful, how magical...even if I didn't notice them at the time. Anyway, it's Solstice and we wish you flags, flax, fodder and Frigg for the coming turn of the wheel, and all that you'd wish for yourselves. Solstice blessing y'all. 

Graffiti

A couple of new pieces of graffiti in the Lazy Bushes underpass. Nice. Simple though effective, both have an old skool flavour to them.

Bottom inspector

We were back on the forests high plains for our walk this morning, although today on the other side of the A31. What a difference from yesterdays wet walk, ominous clouds may have skipped across the sky above us and huddled on the horizon, though they were loose enough and moved fast enough to allow ample winter sun to illuminate the landscape. Today I was to be a bottom inspector, from up here on the high plain we had glorious views over and into the folded landscape and a selection of attractive bottoms. First there was Picket Bottom, next was Akercome Bottom and finally we passed Buckherd Bottom, For the most part not a soul in sight either, which is increasingly a bonus with the forest's new found allure.

Harvest Slade

Today we walked in the company of the element water. This morning was the wettest walk we'd undertaken in the forest for a long time. The underlying geology of the New Forest means water isn't quickly absorbed, and the slowly drained ground easily becomes sodden. Ridley Plain is one of a chain of high plains which cut through the centre of the New Forest, even up here the surface was awash, water either flowing or standing. Where water was flowing, it was being drawn as if by magical force into Harvest Slade from every direction, through the bottom of the Slade an embryonic tributary Mill Lawn Brook forms and flows. 

Thinning Wilverely

Forestry work has continued throughout Wilverely's mosaic woodland. Some blocks of mosaic have been clear harvested, others thinned, whilst others having only their younger coniferous members taken, their cut and graded trunks line the forestry tracks. It's dramatically changed the woodlands appearance, opening up stands and revealing long hidden vistas. Some blocks will be replanted, after all the coniferous stock is merely cash crop. In the thinned out blocks the remaining bigger coniferous trees will have space grow to their full potential and in a few years the floor beneath them will be thick with self seeded offspring. Other blocks where the remaining trees are deciduous ones will no doubt be left to develop as open woodland. I have a coniferous mosaic block which I'm particularly fond of in Wilverely, it's matrix feels perfectly balanced between tall maturing trees and a dense under-story in various stages of growth. It's quite the magical space, hidden away in it's cool shade the dense juvenile conifers muffling the outside world you're immersed in a green world, perfect to sit a while and take some time with the forests coniferous community.  So far it's been spared the woodman's axe.

 

White Moor

White Moor, more like wet moor.

Brandy and Tilly

I found this graffiti etched into a Beech on Dames Slough Hill interesting, Brandy and Tilly. Both are old carvings, although Brandy appears to be the elder by some years, her letters have stretched as the tree's grown. I wondered what they represented? Adjacent as they are I'm assuming they're connected, as there's ample smooth canvas to be had elsewhere around the trunk. I thought at first it could be mother and daughter, but then Brandy the more recent name being popular from the 60's though falling in popularity by 2000, and Tilly (or Matilda) being popular at least from the 1800's and falling from grace by 1960, with a reassurance around the millennia. So that didn't fit. The best I could come up with was that they represent animal names, horses maybe? That could work. Still, Brandy must be 60 years old maybe more, and Tilly got to be 30/40 years old maybe more; horses usually live around 25/30 years, so as I say,  it could work. It's all presumption mind. They could have no connection at all, Brandy being a random piece, and Tilly just a coincidence, the proximity the product of an ordered mind. I don't think so though.

Turn around

Turn around, every now an then......you have little choice but to rethink your route. An engorged Avon Water flowed well beyond it's banks today, I rarely saw it flowing like this in the past. Avon Water was another of the forest's streams straightened and re-cut by the Victorians, once it's course ran parallel with Brockenhurst to Ringwood line, now long gone too under Beeching's axe. It's meanders and shallows were restored in 2017, and it now runs in it's original channel, another landscape enriched and transformed. Although we weren't going to see that landscape this morning, no way I'm getting through that. 

K.i.s.s.i.n.g

What do you see? I see a big lipped Oak king snogging his Beech queen girlfriend. I think I may have gone wrong in my mind tank. 

Burley Old

Winter woodland.

Acres Down

The view over the forest from Acres Down this morning. 

Red Rise Brook

Forest were wet today, Mother, even the dry bits were wet. And, if you get that obscure parodied reference, I doff my cap. Though yes, even the dry bits were wet today, with both Black Water and Red Rise Brook extending way beyond their banks, flooding their shallow valleys. You're not getting across there, not even in wellies. Our route today took us through Burley Old, Burley New and Dames Slough and whenever we travelled off forestry track (which was mostly), the ground was puddled and yielding. If it doesn't rain the waters will quickly recede until the next time, although the ground will remain sodden now until Spring.

Spread Love

 Wise words.

Infinity and beyond

Expressions of love are a common focus in graffiti. You regularly see 'someone' for 'someone' carved into a smooth barked trunk, a Beech or a Holly. Frequently circled by a heart pierced by an arrow, although the example I discovered today is something different, it has a mathematical tip to it, 'Jon plus Alison equals infinity'. Original take, not seen it expressed like that before. I've said it before, it's difficult to exact age most graffiti (unless dated or topic dates it), too many factors, though through compassion after looking a hundreds of carvings I reckon you can postulate a plausible date, and I'd say this about 30/40 years old. Of course, as we made our way on I couldn't help but wonder how Jon and Alison's love had faired.

Canopy

Fall-en.