Fir Cone

 

We're more used to seeing coniferous cones in their final dry brown form littering the winter stands-if we register them at all, it's easy to forget how they began verdant, supple, delicate in form and colour; natures' designs are so cool. There are few different cones found in the New Forest, this one belongs to a Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii).

This is England

 

I love this landscape, this for me is England. Don't misunderstand me, I love the New Forest's stands and heaths, I love the Purbeck hills and it's rocky coast, but if I was asked to describe a quintessential English landscape then it would have to be the Chase. To me the Chase' valleys, it's streams, copses, tree lined fields and archetypal hamlets, nestled between rolling hills and high ridgeways marked by the works of our ancestors epitomise rural England, or at least an imagined one. I've wondered why I feel that emotional response to the Chase, and I've come to the conclusion that it's because until recently, just a couple of centuries or so ago, our lives would've been intrinsically linked to landscapes like this and the seasons, and  if landscapes have any capacity as a repository of memory then Cranborne Chase represents a well stocked library, the valleys and hills well illustrated wide open books.

Forestry tracks

Over recent months the forestry have been cleaning the main forest tracks of encroachment, returning them to their supposed width; they look quite grand with a meter or two having been added to many. The machinists who undertake such work are skilled in just skimming off what is required; I've seen at close quarter what these skilled operators can do in an archaeological trench, taking the soil down centimetres at a time, it's impressive to watch. 

Blackensford Brook

I don't think that there's anywhere better to sit and rest awhile than on the banks of one of the forest's babbling brooks, serenaded by the canopy choir and bathed in warm dappled sunlight.

 

Oak stand in Dames Slough

Oak stand in Dames Slough.

The Ebble

What a glorious sight, one of the many treats of chalk downland walking, their crystal clear chalk streams. There are only around 200 chalk streams on Earth, on Earth!, and 85% of them are found in southern and eastern England...how cool is that, and how blessed to live in said region. It's easy to understand why our ancestors held rivers, streams and wet places in such reverence; they embody life. What's not so cool is that so many of these priceless chalk streams are in a bad way; thankfully though the Ebble is not one them and radiates a real 'waters of life' vibe. Quite mesmerizing.

Hares

We ventured inland again for Sunday's big walk, again returning to Cranborne Chase. What a difference from last weekend though, this morning the sun shone bright and warm from the get go. By what ever metric you choose The Chase is a magnificent landscape full of wonderful sights. A particular thrill for me is the frequency you get to see hares. Always a joy watch, and we'd snuck up close on three hares taking in the morning as we trod the Faulston Drove, what a privilege; of course on clocking us the spell was broken and they were off making for the far field boundary and invisibility. Hares have always held a special importance in spirituality, being associated with the Moon, rebirth, beginnings and growth; three hares forming an endless circle was a common motif of medieval Britain too, whether to ward off evil or solicit good fortune is still debated; I'll take either. 

Gone in a flash

Moments before I took this photo a beautiful Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis) emerged from beneath the bridge I'm standing on and sped downstream; you'll just have to imagine it though, as the Kingfisher's an illusive bird, glimpsed more often than seen. The frequent vertical nature of the banks along this section of Highland Water are well suited to the Kingfisher's burrow, and the stream healthy enough to support their dietary needs. I always feel blessed to glimpse these majestic birds, and this morning more so as it remained in sight for longer than usual. I was lucky today.

Bogbean

 

A particularly attractive wildflower the Bogbean (Menyanthes trifoliata) is nationally uncommon, though a fairly common sight in the wetter areas of the forest. Lucky us I say.

Chase Avenue

What a difference. All the way through our outward journey the mists endured, though as we reached Berwick Down and the beginning of our return leg the mists slowly evaporated to the point that our walk along the Chase Avenue was bathed in radiant sunlight. What a day.

The scent of spring

Ramsons (Allium ursinum) are a common sight amongst Cranborne's woodlands where they frequently form heavily scented lush green carpets. A Wild Garlic wood has to be one of my favourite, if not my favourite Spring sights (and scents). 

Stonard morning

We were out early doors this morning, beginning our walk over Cranborne Chase ways shortly after sunrise. Mist clung amongst the stands. Stonard Wood looked like a set from Robin of Sherwood or Middle Earth. Not a soul about, lovely, just the subtle sound and movement of nature changing shifts to the dawn chorus. The conditions under foot were such that even travelling at a good pace you could move near silently, I find it's a nice way to move through the land, lends your walk an ethereal feel. I thought the woods misty, though nothing compared to the Ridgeway where visibility was down to 50 meters at times; like walking through the clouds. What a day.

Froglets

It's that time in the wheel when the slow flowing ditches and watery spots which saw frog spawn earlier in spring are now thronged with dozens and dozens of baby froglets. Man, are they fast too. I suppose they need to be. 

Spruce tips

The fresh tips of the forest's Spruce (Picea abies; I think) have a quality that make them appear to luminesce, particularly so when set against the backdrop of a damp forest on a drab day. I understand that fresh spruce tips are edible, although I've not as yet tried them. I really should.

Greens

Presently the forest is bathed in the most wonderful palette of verdant greens; peak vitality. It's really a rather striking sight.

Off road

 

One piece of advice I'd offer anyone visiting the New Forest is, if you really want to connect with the heart and soul of the forest, you can do far worse than to walk where there are no paths; yeah, it may not be as straight forward a walk with obstacles varied and plenty, but the rewards are aspects of the forest few get to see. If you can do it, it's worth doing it. 

Dames Slough

Dames Slough. Even the forestry drains have a certain beauty to them.

Midland Hawthorn

 

The arrival of May sees the Hawthorn (Crataegus) flowers beginning to burst forth; the first you'll see will probably be Midland Hawthorn (Crataegus laevigata) which usually flowers a couple of weeks before Common Hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna); our Common Hawthorn's buds are still tightly rolled balls, it looking like they're going to put on quite a show though.

Burley Old

A walk through Burley Old never gets old.

 

Apples

As the apple trees over the common are coming into blossom, I've noticed their number is multiplying with several young trees popping up. To my knowledge all the Common's apple trees, well at least all the ones I've tested, are eaters rather than cookers. I don't know what variety of apple they are, though they have the feel of an older less breed variety and produce small yet flavoursome fruits with tough skins. I'm hoping for a good fruiting season as I've got some appley plans.

Wood Sorrel

 

Back from Glastonbury, Geoff and I went for a wander in the forest, pausing a while to mark Beltane at a favourite spot on the bank of Red Rise Brook. All about the forest is coming to life, numerous small flowers bejewel it's woodland floors and one of the most attractive is the delicate and subtly coloured Wood Sorrel (Oxalis acetosella). Emerging from the mossy floor, opening and closing as the intensity of light dictates, and indicator of an ancient woodland, Wood Sorrel is common amongst the forest's stands.

Jump for joy

 

Jump for joy; spring has sprung.

Up on the hill

There wasn't too much of a sunrise this morning; and the faint sunrise there was had a distant view of Mordor look to it. That didn't matter mind, a fancy sunrise would have been nice, though it was simply being up on the Tor marking Beltane sunrise for the first time since 2019, that was the prize. I've been seeing in the Beltane Sun on Glastonbury Tor for over 30 years, and after an abstinence, it felt wonderful to be celebrating the turning of the wheel of the year up on the hill amongst the gathered; 'up on the hill is where you find us, yeah, up on the hill that shit is timeless', Fun Loving Criminals. The setting, the familiar sounds of the Morris, familiar faces in the crowd, and the familiar words communally spoken in May Day rite, it certainly felt timeless to me. Beltane blessings y'all /|\ What ever seeds you're now sowing, more power to your elbow.