Red Rise Brook

 

Red Rise Brook

 

Indian summer?

 

We're enjoying a lovely autumn out here in the forest, it's glorious, the light, the colours and all, maybe an Indian Summer in the making. Though I find myself conflicted. I know these conditions aren't right, it shouldn't be like this, too dry, too warm, but I also remember what being cold and wet feels like, and I'm in no hurry to be reacquainted with them.

Studand

 

May through September dogs are required to remain on their leads throughout the Studland and Godlingston national nature reserve. So this morning was our first walk here since April, and it was lovely to be back. So much change. The beach and dunes are quite a fluid environment always in flux and some cliff collapse at Redend Point were natures contribution to change, though it was the hand of man which was most noticeable. Middle Beach has been transformed, the stone filled gabbions are gone, as is the slipway, and all signs of the former parking area and café, the road down now truncated just hangs there. The only reminder that there was ever anything here are the line of slighted World War Two anti-tank obstacles in the intertidal. One thing that hasn't changed is the Type 25 pillbox on the beach below Redend Point, testament to 1940's engineering maybe, even though undertaken in a hurry and under duress. I remember the pillbox being half way up the cliff in the late 1970's, and I imagine it was once stood on the top of the head close to the nearby Fort Henry.  

Sweet Chestnuts

 

We're entering peak chestnut harvesting period and the Sweet Chestnut (Castanea sativa) casings I'm seeing about the forest are still a bit on the small side, which doesn’t bode well for the chestnut harvest this year.

Mill Lawn morning

A proper autumnal morning greets October at Mill Lawn.

 

Juniper

 

I didn't know just how rare this Juniper Tree (Juniperus communis) was. To me it was rare as it's one of only two I know, turns out it's one of only two Juniper in the entire forest, and at over 400 years old by far the oldest, an ancient tree. I came across an article from 2001 when curators from Kew had visited in order to take cuttings and collect seeds to preserve its' genetics, and propagate new trees to repopulate the forests' community. The piece included a photo of the tree, it's obvious the tree has declined, but the photo really drew in to focus how much. I'd noticed, but not, if you know what I mean.

Dames Slough

 

There's been extensive clearing and restoration across Dames Slough, you wouldn't believe that this time last year all this was densely planted conifer, they've done a really good of the clearing and restoring too. I look forward to seeing these new (old) landscapes develop.

Missing mushrooms

One consequence of our continuing dry spell is a massive reduction in the number of mushrooms about, both volume and species. Yeah, you'll see some about, but they're few and far between, and more importantly for the most part they're not the mushrooms you're looking for. If we don't have some sustained rain soon, the mushroom season will be over before it starts.

 

Drought endures

 

I don't get exercised by climate change any more, that's not because I don't accept anthropomorphic climate change, or at least our contribution, more that it's so outside of my control that I have no choice but to relegate it in the pursuit of sanity. I do what I can, what's within my remit. Still, I can't help but feel concerned seeing the forest this dry at the end of September. Isn't right, man.

The pigs are out!

The pigs were out to Pannage at Mill Lawn this morning. Pannage is the ancient tradition of allowing the commoners pigs to range the forest searching for nuts, which in excess can be poisonous to the forests' horses and cattle. The season began earlier in September and will run until the end of November. This drift were very friendly, approaching determined to give us a thorough once over, upon realizing we had/were nothing of interest they made off. Take care though, some pigs can be a touch feisty, chasey even, they've had me running on more than one occasion.

Archdruid Rollo

Stalwart of Druidism, Archdruid of Stonehenge Rollo Maughfling presides over this mornings Equinox ceremony; he presided over the first druid ceremony I attended way back in 1988. Nice chap. 

Autumn Equinox Stonehemge

It's only when you escape the light pollution of suburbia that you're reminded just how beautiful a clear night sky can be. Over Salisbury Plain the night sky was black as tar, the universe spread out across it, countless stars shining radiantly. On the cusp of change a bright shooting star streaks across Fargo Wood, and as I approached the stones so did dawn. While the sun had begun its' transit in the east, clouds neared from the west, the combination creating a spectacular backdrop of colour and texture for those assembled at Stonehenge for the Equinox. Amongst the stones druids performed their rites, while others perform rhythmic drumming or chanting, others simply sit or stand in contemplation, waiting; eventually the sun does appear, greeted by collective whoops and cheers. It had been too long since I'd seen in a Solstice or Equinox at Stonehenge, and amongst the stones it really felt like coming home. Altogether a perfect Equinox morning. Equinox Blessings /|\

Martin Down and more

Dry and then some. Martin Down and the surrounding predominantly arable and grassland landscape has the appearance of our own domestic savannah. Cranborne is currently rocking a palette which heavily leans brown. Todays' walk was to reconnect with an area I used to roam frequently, though had not walked in some years. Maybe ten years. It's a glorious landscape, marked all over by six millennia of human activity, Mesolithic hunter gathers first roamed this downland, though they left scant evidence of their presence beyond flint tools, those who came after on the other hand were more giving, sculpting the land into barrows, banks, hillforts and dykes spanning prehistory; Roman roads and villas speak of one phase of colonization; centuries of Medieval farming and hunting have maked the land too, speaking of peasantry and privilege, in many respects an England still recognizable today; more recently the 20th century saw industrialized farming and military activity adding their mark. This is a landscape clearly favoured and well used by our ancestors, still used today. Standing on Penbury Knoll (listed as an early prehistoric hillfort, though I'm not so sure) I surveyed this world in awe. Walking here is walking in the footsteps of our forebears, and you feel it. It was surprising how little the old routes we'd take had changed over a decade, Norris and I knew this place well. A stunning landscape, even in it's current desiccated state a lovely walk.

Lughnasadh

 

First harvest, and the cereal fields are now empty bar stubble, John Barleycorn has been and gone. With Lughnasadh upon us the wheel appears to turn ever faster; or is that just me? Celebrate the harvest, soak it all in, it's been a hell of a summer, soon enough our attention will be drawn to Autumns' approach, already some mornings you can feel its' tendrils reaching out. The wheel keeps on turning. Lughnasadh blessings /|\

Ober Water

 

Ober Water

 

Foxy

 

Forestry works through Rhinefield Sandys' have seen tranches of forest exposed to the sky for the first time in years. Nature doesn't miss opportunities. This one wide strip has been nearly exclusively colonised by Foxgloves (Digitalis purpurea), and to beautiful affect.

Corfe Castle

Corfe Castle is currently in the middle of a 3 year site clearance, restoration and stabilization program, the aim, to ensure this important site is protected and preserved for future generations. It's impressive passing below its ruinous form today, you can only imagine its impact when at the height of its glory, the keep tower painted white on the order of Henry III it stood high above its' surroundings. 

Approaching Corfe

Following the chalk track down the side of Challow Hill you approach the village of Corfe and the ruins of it's magnificent 11th century Norman castle;  once one of the countrys' strongest, and definitely most picturesque castles, now it's the most picturesque ruins.  Surviving sieges through the ages Corfe wasn't brought low by battle, but rather through betrayal, and was subsequently demolished so it could never stand again. Hell of a castle, with a rich history.

Mexican Fleabane

 

There's beauty in simplicity. Mexican Fleabane (Erigeron karvinskianus) only arrived on these shores in late 19th century though quickly naturalised, especially in coastal regions. It maybe a new arrival but it's already become part of to the family to the extent of having plenty of localized names like Miss Jekyll's Daisies or Falmouth Daisy, many seaside towns having their own name. I love them, so bright, so colourful and such a long flowering season too, the insects love them as well.

Riverside totem

I enjoy coming across a woodland totem, there's something about folk creating these archaic features that resonates, something timeless; highlighting maybe our subconscious connection, or our desire for connection, to a bygone age and the magic and ritual of connecting with that ancient landscape. I'm not adverse to setting one up myself, for me it's definitely partly the pursuit of connection to a shrouded past, the world of ancestors and a wilder wood.