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. 

Git orf moi land!

I've noticed, or maybe I've just perceived, a slow decrease in the volume of people in the forest this year; the Covid years 20/21 saw visitor numbers explode, as the forest suddenly became everybody's favourite place. I'll admit to being worried about that, the consequences on nature, damage to the infrastructure (for what it is), and the ambience of the place; as well as, if I'm honest, my own selfish interests. After all, this is my forest; git orf moi land! Of course it's not, I'm just being silly, but I'm sure you know what I mean; we all enjoy a very personal relationship with the land we're connected to, so it's only natural to fear that land and relationship jeopardized by change, especially when you see it threatened, and the forest did see increase wear and tear, damage, animal issues as well as rubbish. I understand that a lot of those negative behaviours were through much of society's lack of socialization to the natural world, but negative they were nonetheless. Although as the opportunities of the wider world opened up again, and the reality of the winter forest became apparent, for many the glamour of the forest wore off; lightweights. There's still more folk about than there used to be, and that's cool, I'm not really a 'nimbyist'. I imagine many of those folk have had their hearts stolen by the forest too; it feels like they're kindred spirits if you will, rather that encouraged here as a 'tourist destination', or through convenience or lack of alternative. Anyway, again Geoff and I can walk for miles amongst the stands rarely seeing another soul, and between those we do pass a knowing smile is shared, kindred spirits like I said. I would like to reiterate though..... git orf moi land!

Inner light

As is so often the way, the picture doesn’t capture what the eye does, or maybe what the minds eye does. This recently slighted and split young Scots Pine shone through Beech Beds enclosure, through the stands it's inner wood appeared to issue a golden luminescence; such a striking sight that on first spying it I was momentarily stopped in my tracks as my mind searched for an explanation. I don't know what caused it; maybe the light on the day was just right to cause an optical illusion or similar, or maybe it was something else, the forest is a magical place after all.

Beech Bed

After a couple centuries on the forest's stage (Beech Bed being enclosed in 1830), this veteran old lady's tenure has been truncated by the elements as she boughs out gracefully with a deep respectful bow. I say her tenure's come to and, although that's a might previous of me, we'll have to see if anything comes of the remaining upright trunk. 

Take care now

 You've got to take care with the forests fences, they're really very sharp!

Canopy

Fall-en.

Game over, man.

 

Game over, man. The forest stands are all but closed down, it's really only the oaks who're still holding on to the last of their leaves. It's been a busy year in the forest, that said, it's always a busy year, that wheel keeps on turning. Now with the work done it's time for a well earned rest, not from us pesky humans though. Footfall in the forest has been heavy ever since lock-down, you've never seen the parking spots so full. Although you can still have the forest to yourself by staying well off the tracks, keeping it cross country stylee. Beech Bed's one of those enclosures that you rarely see folk, in fact I can't remember ever seeing a soul here. We took a while here to breath in the forest. Old Sol's tiring, his strength's waning, nonetheless his light casts long shadows through the beech stands, in whose hollows and damp places light mists persist and the silence is deafening, only broken by the occasional chatter of birds high in the naked canopy. You could lose yourself in the tranquillity of the woods today.