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.

Fledgling

I think this fair sized fledgling we came upon in Church Moor is a Mistle Thrush (Turdus viscivorus) fledgling; the largest species of Thrush in Britain. A plucky individual who appeared more concerned as to whether or not we had any food, than as to whether we were going to prey on it or not. We went for not.

Spreads

The marshy regions where the forest's streams are born are known as 'spreads' or 'collects'; often out on the open heath and always amongst the stands muddled `carr woodland is present, especially where the streams first form proper. These always feel some of the wilder places in the forest, uncomfortable regions to navigate, wet, tangled and fraught with obstacles, fallen trunks and boot sucking quagmire; best avoided, though at the same time oozing with allure, their magic seems to draw you in. They represent an aspect of the timeless landscape of fairy tale and myth. Where do myths start, maybe it was an inherent magic that first led our prehistoric ancestors to favour these wet areas for ritual and ceremony; maybe how you experience such places is an echo of genetic memory, my ancestors reminding me of the sacred nature these places held in their world view. Maybe.

Beefsteak

As a large Beefsteak fungi decays on the woodland floor, it's easy to see how it got it's name. Although, I think 'porksteak' may be more appropriate, as I think the fungi's flesh looks akin to pulled pork.

Marker?

I needed some air today, though it was one of those walks where you walk with a thick frown on your face, wondering when you'll learn that drinking too much on an empty stomach is a mistake, and trying walk off the horrible way you now feel. Immersing myself in the forest I hoped to take my mind of my woes. I've mentioned before that when you immerse yourself in your walk, immerse yourself in the landscape you're walking through you start to see more. And when you walk a landscape long enough you'll notice anything out of place. Walking through the tall majestic beech of Church Moor this afternoon my eye was caught by a pile of stones amongst the leaf litter at the base of one of the beech. You get plenty of piles of stones in the forest, after all, the forest overlays gravels, sands and clays. But, this pile looked out of place.  As I walked over I saw stones of colours and types which were alien to those found locally. There were quartz, and lots of rounded pebbles amongst others. I can only assume that they had been placed here on purpose; a marker or memorial most likely.  A special spot to someone, imbued with meaning.

Hide and seek

The hollowed trunk of a slighted leviathan made an ideal hiding place, of course I was up against a master in the art of location and was soon to be found.

Church Moor

The colourful Beeches of Church Moor in Mark Ash Wood.