Holmhill Bog passage

Holmhill Bog passage

Ober Valley

The veiw into the Ober valley told me it was time to turn around, all though there are two bridges close by, there'd be no crossing the Ober this morning.

Snow glow

 

Geoff loves the snow so much he glows.

Another snowy walk

 

I was surprised to see how much snow had survived out in the forest. I wasn't expecting anything like this, snow still covers much of the open ground. The day is clear and cold, it feels colder than yesterday, and the snow is dry and crisp. Where there's not snow there's ice, it's horrible under foot, difficult walking. Worth it though, another day of snow.

Narnia

The forest was so quiet, so still, the stands were holding their breath. The woodland was the winter woodland of stories, Mr. Tumnus could've appeared at any moment and I wouldn't have been too surprised. Less than two hours after it had started the snow has all but stopped. A transient beauty, made more beautiful for it.

Geoff in a snowy scene

 

I like this shot of Geoff in a snowy scene.

Snow way, man.

As I sat drinking my morning coffee listening to the sound of rain, it was still dark outside. I wasn't looking forward to this mornings walk. I set off from Anderwood with a sigh, expecting a wet walk, though it wasn't rain that fell but snow! Oh, huzzah. The prevailing wet had meet the cold, and snow was their progeny, It was coming down at a fair rate, and settling too. We don't often get snow in these parts, and even when we do it doesn't last. So you've got to make the most of it. The walking was wonderful, the forest was quickly being transformed into a magical winter wonderland. When it snows the timeless child in you steps to the fore. Everything felt lighter. I felt an deep calm come over me as we walked through the falling snow, and it felt so good. I could've wandered the stands all day.

Fall

Most of the leaves have left the trees and litter the the ground around them. Lying in the water filled ditches reflecting on where they came from. Fall is almost done.

Henry Parker & David Ian Roberts @ The Wight Bear

 

I can't remember where I first heard Henry Parker, but on doing so I was immediately prompted to buy his 2019 album Silent Spring. An album of timeless folk. His new album in collaboration with David Ian Roberts Chasing Light is in the same vein. Folk has always been the voice of the proletariat, the people, music that keeps alive an oral tradition conveying story, history and fable, whose origins disappear into the mists of time, it's important, as are the stories it tells. This afternoons' performance at The Wight Bear in Southborne was part of messrs Parker and Roberts album release tour. The duo graced us with two captivating half hour sets, the quality of musicianship was superb, with exquisite melodies beautifully rendered, folk music of the highest order. Parker and Roberts represent contemporary folk at it's best, masterfully breathing fresh energy into the medium, ensuring the traditions continuing appeal. Wonderful stuff, we were afforded a real aural treat, music that stirs ancestral memory and touches the soul. The venues owner has a no talking whilst artists are playing policy which I salute, never more essential than when listening to performances such as this, allowing us to bask in its fine detail. Lovely. 

Now, to say the Wight Bear is bijou under plays just how small it feels, though what it lacks in size it more than makes up for in character and warmth. What a smashing venue. I'd not previously been here, though immediately felt at home. Really friendly regulars, everyone appeared to know everyone, and even if they didn't they made you feel that they did; the staff where the same, very welcoming; and the range of craft beverages is expansive. I said it felt small, although it must have a tardis quality about it, there were people sitting chatting, others making lino cuts, others milled about, whilst massages were available in their small snug at the back. What a remarkable establishment. Well worth a visit.

Fabulous afternoon, big thanks to all. Check out Henry Parker and David Ian Roberts Chasing Light on bandcamp, as well as Henrys' back catalogue.

The Triquetra

 

Placed in a natural fissure on a sturdy forest gate post, a Triquetra crafted from braided natural fibres. Bracken maybe, thinking about it. A symbol commonly associated with triads such as the Triple Goddess in paganism and later with the Holy Trinity in Christianity, a symbol familiar to the Celtic, Norse and Germanic peoples. Whoever created this one may have done so with a specific purpose in mind, or it could just have been art for art sake, either way, nice.  The world needs more magic.

Manicured

I think many people would be surprised at how extensively the forest is manicured. From the regularly burning heather and gorse, the continuous combating of invasive saplings on the open heath, and the battle to eradicate rhododendrons, right down to single out of place trees, a hell of a lot of effort is put in to keeping the forest looking chocolate box perfect.

Dirty face

Love it. 

Ober Water morning

 

The banks of Ober Water perfectly illustrate the New Forests' captivating beauty and air of natural magic in late autumn. After our recent bout of aptly named anticyclonic gloom, the suns' return was welcomed, although weakening, the sun still retaining ample strength to illuminate the stands and stream; you could even discern a modicum of warmth. A radiant morning.

Green Ford

 

Green Ford

 

Wakey wakey

Now don't go all trump derangement syndrome on my ass, I'm going to posit a potential positive of the orange man's election. Yes, I know he's a maniac, misogynist, a climate denying, rights repealing, erratic, highly dangerous maniac who's not fit for office. But, his emphatic election victory has brought about change. Beyond the bourgeoisie and far left, who've doubled down on their assertion that anyone not them is a Nazi, I sense the body left have had the scales begin to fall from their eyes. For the first time I'm listening to leftwing commentators question the efficiency of coding the working class, all their concerns, in fact, everything about them as base and deplorable. Of abandoning the class struggle in favour of identity politics. It's about time we woke up!

I genuinely believe that the majority of people are on board with progressive policies around race, sex, gender, orientation, the climate, equalities, you name it, right up to the point that we start babbling mad Shit. And if you question the mad shit, the rigid orthodoxy aggressively pushed and policed by the far left and bourgeoisie activists, you're a heretic. Contrary to advertised, the left has become anything but inclusive. If we want to affect change we need to build coalitions, build consensus, and to do that we've got to engage in good faith discussions with those outside of our collective silos. People with different ideas and perspectives to ours. Obviously the dyed in the wool ideological ultras on both left and right will resist, but beyond that I think the majority of people across the political spectrum are hungry for genuine change, not worthless rhetoric.

The last 10 years of rightward slide vividly highlight where our current divisive narratives have got us. The left are losing hearts and minds. The far right is gaining ground hand over fist, as the left eviscerates itself in its pursuit of unattainable ideological purity. We've got to replace inflexible orthodoxy with nuanced thinking, otherwise we'll have no one else to blame for fascism but ourselves.

14 Pebbles #4

We passed through Burley Old this morning following one of our regular routes, past the hollowed stump of the ancient tree whereupon the 14 pebbles were found expanded to 20. The circle had transformed again. Several of the pebbles I'd collected in Purbeck have gone, as had the tiny white stone, and new ones had been added.  I enjoy that the circle is changed by passers by, that's how I found it,  and wondered if the creator of the original pebble setting has had a hand in any of the subsequent transformations.

It's frothy, man

 

It's frothy, man.

Boiling mound

 

Thought to be Bronze Age in date 2500BC to 700BC there are in excess of 1600 boiling mounds or burnt mounds in the New Forest, mounds of severely fractured burnt flint. It's believed they're the result of heated stones placed in wooden troughs or leather bags filled with water, in order to.....?  Well, it could be to cook with, or brew, or tan, for a sweat lodge, or for all  manner of things domestic, or the prehistorians catch all, ritual. There was some research into Irish burnt mounds suggesting they were used in the textile production process. This mound, 4m or so in diameter, has a narrow path cutting through it, creating a natural sondage clearly showing the burnt flint deposit in section, a nice cross section of the entire feature, from the thin covering horizons down to the prehistoric ground surface the it sits on. Nice.

Churned

 

Timber extraction is a messy business, and when coupled with wet ground conditions, a really messy business. Tracked machinery causes terrible damage to the forest floor, churning the buggery out of it, wheeled vehicles are little better. It seems that no matter where you go throughout the forest extraction or clearing of one kind or another is under way; the volume of timber coming out of the stands must be extraordinary. Without restoration the scars of this work will be visible for years.

Autumn reflected

 

Autumn reflected

Unusual find

Racing along a narrow track through the heather I spun around as something caught my eye. It's amazing how your subconscious runs a program in the back ground which will register the out of place. On inspection I saw something definitely man made, and as soon as I handled it I had an inkling, and then when I turned it over I knew exactly was it was, but not what from. It's a ammunition clip, but for something higher calibre. Turns out to be a clip for a .55 Boys Anti Tank Rifle. The Boys was introduced into service in 1934, and although initially effective against light amour, it soon became redundant as the Second World War progressed and amour developed. The Boys was replaced in 1943 by the more effective and versatile PIAT. So when and how did this clip find its' way here?

Murrays' Passage

Misty through Murrays' Passage, this morning. The passage, a track crossing the boggy valley of Long Brook, created in memory of one Admiral Murray who was apparently killed whilst out hunting in the forest in 1901, or so says the small monument in the valley bottom.

Highland hues

Highland Water in autumn.

Aw nuts.

Well, the results are in, and it's decisive. It's been a shit year for sweet chestnuts. I'd called it wrong last year, so tried to give this year the benefit of the doubt, but no, the nuts this year really have been poor. Of course, that may not be universal, but about our roams it was a case of lots of early droppers little more than sacks, followed by a weak crop of below average size nuts, and few and far between. Could just be a bad year? Maybe. It has been poor across the board, I can’t think of a wild food that's had a particularly good year, neither fruit, nut or fungi.

Forest pool

Throughout the ages the extraction of gravel, sand and clay from about the forest has left  innumerable quarry sites. Many of these old quarries seasonally fill with water, and some hold year nearly all round. They create welcome wildlife oases throughout the forest.