A dendronaut's dream

 

Dendronaut, what a great word. When it popped into my head whilst amongst the stands I thought I'd made it up, although a quick look on the internet showed of course I hadn't. Still. Although searching for a definitive definition of 'dendronaut', I discovered there isn't one, no dictionary entry or ought. I suppose simply put it means tree (dendro) traveller (naut), that works well enough for me really. I think it's the perfect word for those who can't keep to the footpath, being drawn off deep into the green to travel the less trodden woodland paths seeking exploration, immersion and connection. Walking was a dendronaut's dream today.

Full Moon

 Tonight was a perfect night for full moon fire.

Forest oak

  

Forest oak. 

Poorly stitched together, but you get the picture.

Hasley enclosure

This is the first morning that you've really been able to feel Spring's in the air. The growing young Sun and fecund maiden Goddess have begun their courtship and nature hums with anticipation. We started out from Mogshade Hill, and ended up doing a tidy 8 miles, it was a lovely day for walking. At our furthest point we found ourselves over Fritham Plain way; I've not walked this part of the forest for years, and it was good to be threading the tracks here again...the views are smashing. This is a distant Hasley enclosure seen from the edge of Sloden as we made our way up and along towards the plain.

Crocus

Amongst the mature trees and stones deep swathes of crocuses carpet the old section of New Milton cemetery, they really do make the finest of shows.

F*cking puritans

This is a new one on me..., the censuring of carved graffiti! What is wrong with people, are we back in the 17th century with roving Puritans saving us from the potential of sinful thought? F*cking puritans! SEX had always entertained me, was it carved in celebration, anticipation or desperation...who knows?  I'd say it's a fairly old piece, 60's/70's maybe.  It's 2 or 3 meters from the track and not that obvious, so unlikely to offend. Hey, why would you be offended by seeing sex carved into a tree anyway (beyond those who find carving any graffiti into a tree offensive that is.)? Makes you think though, what was going through the mind of the person who hacked of the X, really. Of course, I could be totally misreading the situation and it's someone with the initials SE who thought it simpler to remove the X on this piece than to carve SE for themselves. Yeah, I know, that's a silly proposition, though no sillier than what's been done.

Art

I've finally finished a piece of art (maybe). Oh huzzah! I have plenty of ideas, and do plenty of pencil layouts and provisional sketches for things, but then one thing or another sends me of course, and well, nothing ends up getting finished. I posted that I'd finished pencilling this Winter Solstice Card back in November 2019! In the case of this piece, my inability to finish it in time for Solstice 2019 moth balled it until 2020, which of course never happened. I say maybe in brackets as I'm still not sure about the Sun, I feel I may have drawn it too large to be left blank. We'll see. In the meantime I'm happy to have completed something and am hoping to use it as springboard to moving straight on to the next piece. 

Winding Stonard

Winding Stonard

Guiding light

 

Ocknell Plain was quiet this morning, only a few grazing ponies and the occasional walker, and it was easy to imagine that the plain had always been that way. A vast open expanse of heather and rough grass whose edges disappeared down in to wet woodlands. Although if you look reminders of a previous, more dramatic, life can be made out. Like the long stretch of plum straight road cutting the edge of the plain, or the broad shallow linked depressions that create patterns all over the plain. During World War Two an expansive 3 runway military airfield spread across the 3 adjoining forest plains, Ocknell Plain, Stoney Cross Plain and Janesmoor Plain, most notably used by the USAAF 367th Fighter group (softening logistical targets pre D-Day) and 387th Medium Bombardment Group (taking out infrastructure and logistics post D-Day). Very little of what was RAF/USAAF Stoney Cross Airfield remains today though, the buildings had been removed and the runways broken up for hardcore by the 1970's. Since then the remaining perimeter track and dispersed aircraft hard-standings have been gradually been removed; very little remains now of the airfield I remember. The long straight road follows the longest 07/25 runway and the network of broad shallow linked depressions represents the void left by the removal of the runways, taxiways, perimeter track and dispersed aircraft hard-standings. Occasionally you'll come across more tangible features like the runway light mounting in the photo. The light mountings run in pairs every few meters along the parallel edges of what was runway 07/25. I've always thought that removing all the infrastructure and physical remains of the forest's wartime airfields was a short-sighted act of cultural vandalism; they could have at least kept one as a historical resource/monument, and a resource that could have many sustainable uses to boot.

Flower figure

I like this. A nice, simple, though really effective piece of graffiti on the Markway side entrance to Markway Hill subway. A stylized figure created in flowers; of course it could be something else completely, a figure is simply my reaction. Great symmetry whatever. I don't know if it's the outline of an unfinished piece (there is a much larger word roughed out in the subway) or the finished article, either way, like it. More public art I say!

The Watcher

The forest should be a world full of mystery and magic.

 

Into the green

 

Wilverely walk this morning. Glorious. As I've mentioned before Wilverely is a mosaic of differing age woodland, coniferous and deciduous blocks, and each has it's individual character.  Today we wend our way through the mosaic and into the deep green of one of our favoured coniferous blocks.  In a naked winter landscape it's like a different green world. Towering mature conifers and occasional deciduous cousins create open glades and groves carpeted throughout in vibrant green mosses, around them every stage of conifer create dense green thicks, the age and species of each thick defines it's ease of accessibility, and winding throughout the whole block a myriad of criss crossing animal paths lead you through what feels like infinite pockets of new forests. Just within this one block you can walk for a couple of miles without walking on the same section of path twice (beyond crossing it) or seeing the same woodland view. 

Naked

Just as it's coldest just before dawn, the forest is at it's most naked just before the spring. By this point the bracken's been levelled by winter's rains, any leaves that clung on after the fall have been dislodged by the winds and the forest stands are truly bare.

Ramsons

 

Spring must be coming, the Ramsons are poking through. It's a lovely time of year, everywhere you look the land is waking. Ramson (Allium ursinum) is both useful and attractive. An edible plant with a garlic flavour and scent Ramsons can be used as a flavouring herb, in salads or soups and stews, take care though, it's strong stuff and use without restraint can lead to inedibility (I once had to through a pot of soup away it was so garlicy...and hot!). Ramson is a beautiful plant, and when it's white garlicy scented flowers carpet an entire woodland it's really a sight to behold, and to smell too. This time last year I was walking through the top of Norden Wood, for my money the finest of ramson woods, seeing the green shoots emerging and looking forward to Beltane when the ramson flower carpet is at it's most sublime. Lockdown meant that wasn't to be, I'm hoping for better this year.

Cold out

 Cold out.

Buckherd Bottom

This morning we were chased through Buckherd Bottom by horses which took a dislike to us, or rather a dislike to Geoff. Normally the New Forest Ponies carry themselves with a air of stoic indifference, not this white one and her crew. Of course Geoff was made up, believing the ponies were finally game for playing he bounded about excitedly, dodging and weaving...them in pursuit. Me, I wasn't enjoying the excited Geoff / excited ponies dynamic so much, and I was happy when we eventually put some ground between us. 

Milkham

Until recently it'd been several years since since I'd walked over Bratley Plain way or the mosaic woodlands below it, and oh how Milkham Enclosure is changed. I remember last time I was this way they'd just begun harvesting some of the coniferous blocks, particularly those bordering the Linford Brook, remodelling and restoring the surrounding landscape as they went. That restoration process is now well on it's way to completion, and it looks great. Whole new vistas have been opened up. The conifers now mostly gone Linford Brook runs through it's cleared collect, winding through thin smears of newly freed deciduous trees hugging the embryonic brook here and there, before disappearing again into the stands.

Rainbow ghost

We saw a strange phenomena in the forest today. It was cold and misty this morning although by the time we walked the low escarpment of Rock Hills the Sun was rapidly burning the mists away. When right in front of us a ghostly rainbow appeared. At first it was rather ephemeral, phasing in and out of existence. I wondered at first whether it was even there, or maybe it was an illusion. When it became tangible it was made stranger by it being so close, it manifested right there in front of us. So close we could see both ends touch down, though we couldn't see the top of the arch, that was missing as the rainbow didn't extend beyond the height of the mists. Really cool. The ghostly rainbow even had ghostly colours, although if you focused too hard they disappeared, a strange optical allusion for sure. Then it faded and was gone. What a lovely sight, I felt blessed to have caught it's transience.

Dark Hat

I stood eyes closed, light sun illuminating my face, listening to the gentle gurgling of a forest rivulet, it was bliss. A trailer for Spring to come. It even smelt like it, or maybe that was my mind playing tricks. Bloody lovely whatever.

Wild wood

 

Wild wood

Sunset

It's been long time since I took notice of the evening sky, and that's been remiss of me.

Imbolc

The wheel delivers us once more to Imbolc and the land's awakening, out there the nascent potential of nature is tangible in her swelling buds, green shoots and early blooms. This time last year we couldn't have known that Covid would see our seeds for a year's hopes and dreams fall on salted ground, never even to sprout. It's been a hell of a 12 months. This year my hope is just one simple word...better. Better for everyone. Imbolc blessings y'all /|\