Moving in

This is a good sign. There used to be an active Badger sett here, although I've not seen a badger or any sign of one in maybe twenty years. It's a place we pass regularly and I've kept my eye open, though over the years the numerous entrances to their sett have become filled with season upon season of leaf litter and debris, now hardly visible. It's looking like a new clan could be moving it though.

Dockens Water

 

Dockens Water

The night conceals

 

'The night conceals the World, but reveals the universe.'

A lovely thought; and apt for the forest sky too.

Dry Winter

 

It's been a dry winter to date. Normally this time of the year the ground would yield easily underfoot, you'd be dodging mud and puddles, avoiding the forest's lowlands and considering where/if you'd be able to cross any of the streams; not so this year though.

Uber Water

I thought it would be a good idea to walk along Uber Water between the two Rhinefield/Cumber footbridges. It wasn't. It began nice and all, and for a good distance was easy pleasant grassy walking; then we entered the stretch where Duck Hole Bog bleeds into the stream, and it ended with me having to wade through Uber Water, then walking some distance barefoot through wet heath before I could put my boots back on. You know, I knew it would end like that too, experience told me so, and yet I continued knowing my route meant I couldn't backtrack. Chump.  

Dockens Water

Our walk this morning was our longest so far this year at 14.4 miles, and saw us ranging widely across the northern part of the forest; taking in the wonders on offer we roamed through open woodlands and formal plantation, exposed plains and sheltered lowland wet heath, and of course a number of babbling brooks. The view here is from Red Shoot Plain towards Dockens Water and Ibsley Common beyond. I've not walked this way for some years; it's good walking, with fine views across the Northwest of the forest and as far as the Ridgeways of Cranborne Chase and Wiltshire.

Ibsley Common WW2 monuments

 

The New Forest has had a long and varied history (and prehistory) of human activity, the evidence of which can be seen through a range of features from lumps and bumps in the ground to more substantial monuments. Here on Ibsley Common a pair of related Second World War monuments; the remnants of a World War Two Radio Direction Finding Station. The station, one of three spaced around the nearby Ibsley Airfield, all issued the same frequency, navigational aids allowing pilots to determined their position. The remains are a hexagonal blast wall for a long gone wooden tower, surrounded by small concrete blocks representing compass points, and the foundations of a rectangular brick building adjacent to an underground air raid shelter; the shelter used to be filled by rubble, although since I last passed this way it's been cleared. An interesting site.

MIstletoe

The forest's deciduous trees are still naked, making any clumps of Mistletoe visible from quite a distance. Have you ever seen Mistletoe like this though, it's host fades before it's glory; largest community I've seen. Wonderful.

Frogspawn

You're starting to see more frogspawn appearing in the forest's ponds and smaller waterways. It's amazing the volumes of spawn produced, made me wonder how many frogs there were out there; so I looked into it. A female frog can produce 4,000 eggs in a season, so you'd imagine healthy communities, sadly no, across the UK Common Frog populations which began falling in the 70's have declined 68% in the last 30 years. Bit of a bummer.

Crocus

With the fading days of winter upon us, the vibrant colours of spring are beginning to shine through, colours made even more vivid in the muted hued landscape winter leaves in it's wake.

Elephant or Rhino?

What do you see? An elephant or a Rhino? Or maybe something else.

A change of tune

 

The times they are a changing, and the nature of birdsong has definitely changed in recent days; gone are the subdued mournful songs of winter, songs much brighter are being sung in the canopy today. There's an air of anticipation and excitement amongst the chorus; I feel it too, I think we all do, Spring approaches, the game is nearly on.

Gravelly rumble

 

I was surprised when we reached the cliff top this morning to see that beyond the last few meters the sea was near still, quite the contrast to what I expected; you could hear the gravelly rumble of the waves rushing the beach from the common, a mile or so away. The wind must've been blowing in the right direction or something.

Dalek geoglyph

 

This rare prehistoric geoglyph of a Dalek left by a long gone ancient nomadic people is surely evidence of alien visitation. Come on, it's gotta be?

Full Moon

Full moon

Nothing to see here

 

Cranes Moor is on the eastern edge of the Forest, a beautiful landscape of lowland and wet heath with islands capped with coniferous clumps. Not so long ago overhead cables blighted this view, nothing to see here now though. Recently the creosoted poles taken down, the cabling having been removed, and the views are all the better for it. Lovely.

Gone

 

Relic of a bygone age, a remnant of an integrated mass transit system the like of which we can only dream of enjoying today, and yet one we so desperately need. Even after Beeching cut this line in the 60's I remember in my childhood an integrated public transport network of buses and trains that allowed for effective and affordable travel around the country; sadly the trajectory since then for public transport has been one of death by a thousand cuts. Made me think more broadly about how much our society's lost; or more accurately what we once enjoyed, the things we used to take for granted, the raft of public services, the culture, the communities and a myriad of opportunities; we were rich by so many metrics. Time's not been kind to our society though has it, it's a much thinner space we navigate today.

Imbolc

 

Right on cue the new shoots of spring break on through.

Imbloc blessing y'all /|\ 

Blase

 

We live with beauty on our doorstep, still it's so easy to become blasé about your surroundings isn't it, taking them for granted and failing to appreciate their qualities; familiarity breeds complacency/contempt maybe? I sometimes find myself looking to walk somewhere, anywhere, else except on my doorstep; and when I get like that I reach for a specific memory to remind me. Years ago whilst chatting in a post Office in Cornwall, the local I was conversing with on discovering where we'd come from began to wax lyrical about their holidays to Highcliffe and how they love the place, listing numerous positive points; and it struck me that they were the same enthusiastic tones I'd use waxing lyrically about our much loved trips to Cornwall; made me look at the many blessings of our home roam differently, appreciatively.  Sometimes I still need reminding.