Sneaky deer

 

I've not heard a stag roar for a while now, the rut must be coming to an end. As a consequence the groups of deer are beginning to dissipate. We disturbed a large group of Fallow Deer as we headed up from Bratley Water towards Bratley enclosure. They clocked our approach and quickly scattered; a few minutes later I spotted two of the stags back to back hidden amongst the browning bracken and scrub, a good defensive arrangement.

Stranger

A stranger in a strange stand. A radiant young beech shines alone, cloaked in her autumn tints amongst a stand of dour oaks reluctant to accept the coming fall.

Park Hill Heathland restoration

As part of this morning's long roam we walked through Park Hill enclosure; we'd last passed this way back in January when signs proclaimed that the area was to undergo Heathland restoration. Well, that project appears well under way; cleared mainly coniferous timber lays neatly stacked on the sides of the enclosure's tracks; the landscape beyond cleared except for the occasional clump of or solitary deciduous tree; felling debris litters the cleared land, ready to be raked and burnt. It all looks a bit disruptive and messed up at the moment, though it wont be too many years before the restored heathland will be teeming with diverse flora, birds, reptiles and insects; and you'd never know it had ever been any different.

Another misty morning

Out in the forest this morning it was the mistiest of mornings; the stands of Bratley enclosure were shrouded and near silent. I love the forest when it's like this, the landscape of fairy tales, a landscape in which you might spy mythagos. Magical. Out on the exposed plains the mists were even thicker, with visibility greatly reduced to the point where I found myself off course on a route I've undertaken many many times. The lyrics of Goldfrapp's Utopia came to mind 'It's a strange day, no colours or shapes, no sound in my head, I forget who I am'. Not wishing to overly big myself up, but unintentionally going off course is rare for me; intentionally going off course, well, that's another matter. Today's divergence was a good lesson, a reminder that I'm not infallible.

Bushy Bratley

Bushy Bratley

Bratley Enclosure

Mossy Beech on Bratley Enclosure bank.

Tyred

 

He'd been on the road for miles, Trevor lent against the forest Oak, he was so tyred.

Bratley view

 

Autumn in the New Forest; really, what's not to love.

Bratley Enclosure Bank

A mature Beech grows from the bank of Bratley Enclosure (1829). The known age of the enclosure gives a nice indicator of the trees age. It's also interesting to see how simple earthworks can remain prominent features of a landscape for hundreds of years, if not much much longer.