Chewton Common

 

Our local common is a wonderful space, as well as a vital community resource. A mosaic of different environmental types: heather and gorse heath, rough grassland, pockets of coniferous and deciduous woodland; it's seasonally waterlogged in winter/spring due to underlying clay geology and choked with towering growth in summer/autumn. Set in our suburban sprawl it's a rich and diverse parcel of land, of massive value to wildlife as well as locals. It's a nice size tract of land, not huge, though being criss crossed by a myriad paths gives it the illusion of being much bigger than it is, and gives you the opportunity if you opt for canny routes utilising as many paths as possible to rack up surprising distances. As I say, a wonderful space. Common land is a blessing, man, and one I'm grateful for; though by natural law reasonable access to the land should be ours by right. 

Lakewood

 

The underlying Eocene clays have traditionally ensured that the Highcliffe area has been wet, crossed by rivulets, pocked with ponds, generally soft under foot and prone to standing water during the wet seasons. Before settling on Highcliffe-on-Sea one of the village's names was Slop Pond, you can understand why they changed it, even if the latter is descriptively appropriate.  Lakewood is one of the remaining ponds; a good sized pond with a small island, one half surrounded with what's left of the woodland the pond was set in up to the 80's housing expansion, the other grass and open mature/veteran trees, nice. Recently some local fishy folks have cleared the pond out of clogging mud, detritus natural and otherwise, and choking flora; they've restored the banks and restocked the water with good sized fish which lurk just visible in the murky waters. A nice spot to visit on our local walks. An amazing nature oasis.

Common Broomrape

Common Broomrape (Orobanche minor), a plant which reflects beauty and ugly in equal measure. It's been a good year for them. The narrow strip of old woodland alongside Hinton Avenue has been full of Broomrape, usually you'll see a handful here and there though this year they've carpets small areas. I don't know if that's a good sign or not, Broomrape's a parasitic plant. It's an odd one too, no leaves, just a flowering spike protruding from the ground.

Dog people

If you walk locally with a dog you'll quickly become 'dog people', a cadre of people who, for the most part, are known by their canine companion's name. Sometimes a nod, a wave from a distance, small talk or even occasionally longer exchanges bind us. I have to admit I dig it. Life's a collection of infinite stories, and I love to hear them. Through talking my community feels more alive somehow, populated now by real characters rather than a nebulous homologous neighbour, and many have a story they want to tell...and I'll listen. For another time maybe. For now though, I'd had a chat this morning with an elder who always stops and tells me her story through unconnected piece, like slowly doing a jigsaw. Anyway, as we wished each other a good day, she turned and said 'thank you for talking to me'. I told her that it was my pleasure.  But, man, as I walked off emotion captured me, for this wasn't the first time, by far, that a local elder spoke those exact words...and every time they land like unintended punches. As for that short sentence to be common parlance, we must genuinely be losing our humanity.

Cranemoor Common

Cranemoor Common is another of our local commons. Cranemoor is shown on older maps to have once extended beyond the railway line to the A35; that land is under the plough today and the remaining common runs along the urban side of the tracks, an interface between the suburban sprawl of Walkford/Highcliffe and the rural landscape which borders the New Forest.  Like the other pockets of common in the area it's an interesting and diverse environment, with a small stream, a pond, set in mixed woodland and niche habitats...also like many of it's fellow common pockets, it can have a peculiar, somewhat unnerving, vibe to it at times.

Ooh!

Ooh! That's not a regular sight, a Deer in the central parcel of Chewton Common, in 25 years this is only the third I've seen. The first was 20 years ago, and this one happens to be the second in a week.  Last week one of the dog people told me he'd seen a large deer crossing the road that transects the common, so Geoff and I were particularly deft and vigilant as we wove the commons winding paths. It was Geoff who clocked the deer first and was off through the bramble choked thicket; the deer had more open ground behind it and soon was gone. I only caught a couple of glances as it disappeared in to thicket. Today's deer was not the same one, it was smaller, younger maybe. It didn't appear too fazed by our presence though, happy to check us out for a while before moving out of sight casually. The presence of a deer in the common highlights what I've mentioned before, that the pockets of common and strips of woodland create and act as wildlife corridors allowing animal movement through our urban intrusions into their natural world.

Bure Brook

Chewton Common isn't one parcel of land, it no doubt would've been, although by the 80's years of invasive development from Highcliffe and Walkford had reduced it to fragments of its former glory. The remaining fragments vary in size and exist in isolation, although only just so; through your minds eye though, you can imagine the common that was. Bure Brook runs through the north-eastern parcel of Chewton Common, still only an easy strides width at this point. Dry now, the surrounding woodland is seasonally wet and languishes mostly neglected, which is a shame as it's particularly florally diverse, a secret oasis. The trees in the photo stand on the bank of a small irregular sub rectangular enclosure, the origins of which I've no idea, some are couple of hundred years old which suggests the enclosure is older than that.  That's something for me to explore. 

 

Hidden away

Hidden away in the Streamer Point nature reserve, just a few meters back from the cliff edge, are two ornamental ponds...I'd imagine they were once part of Highcliffe Castle's gardens. For years these ponds languished neglected, although through the work from volunteers they're slowly being brought back to life. Tranquil nature oases like these are essential to both wildlife and us alike.

Highcliffe Castle

Highcliffe Castle. An early 1800's Gothic Revival mansion, created from stone recycled from a French Château, the Grand' Maison des Andelys and the ruined Benedictine Abbey of St Peter at Jumieges. Home to a lord, then a Marchioness. Visited by royalty, Edward VII and Alexandra. Kaiser Wilhelm II convalesced here for 3 weeks. Home of Harry Gordon Selfridge, famed of Selfridge's, who's buried in the local churchyard. A children's convalescent home. A Roman Catholic seminary. Burned and left derelict for nearly 30 years. A dangerous forgotten ruin to explore...which we did. Then in the 90's a phoenix, metaphorical and actual, it was restored and reborn... it has to be said, the restoration is quite impressive. Today, open to the public for visits and events, the castle continues to be renovated. All that in under 200 years (1831 to present), not bad.

Castaway lite

We were a little later walking this morning and had the beach pretty much to ourselves; we must have missed the dog walkers hour. It was like being a castaway, or rather castaway lite, as in reality we could be home in 20 minutes. Still, nice to have the place to ourselves, sat gazing out to sea, sun gently warming your face, it's easy to lose yourself in the gentle rhythm of the waves and let your mind drift free of the world's drag. Really we're very lucky that even though we live on the fringe of one of the south coast's most expansive conurbations we can access a variety of natural/semi natural environments easily on foot and in the solitude to be found there, imagine ourselves castaway.

Steamer Point

We wandered along Highcliffe beach this morning, amongst the dunes that are developing below Steamer Point. You'd imagine that the name Steamer Point may refer to a location you'd catch a steamer from. Well, nearly. There once was a Streamer here, although it wasn't going anywhere...it had reached it's final destination. When the nearby Highcliffe Castle was being built, a steamer was beached and then hauled aways inland where it was wedged in place between two large trees and used as the site office. Afterwards it remained as a beach house until around 1900.  Later during the war Steamer Point was home to a secret military establishment researching radar and communications, post war SRDE developed Britain's first satellite communications system... locally famous for it's distinctive white golf ball like dome which housed a satellite dish. Today although the steamer's long gone (the military too) the name remains, and the site is now a wildlife reserve with a section of undeveloped beach below it. Nice spot. Historically the premier location for beach parties...before the banning of fun.

Second cutting

Back at the beginning of May a lush and vibrant crop of grass for silage was harvested from these fields above Walkford Moor Copse. The grass grew back, though thinner, tougher and less verdant. Now this too was being cropped this morning. I got talking to the farmer and asked if this too was going to become silage, and learnt that it wasn't. No, this crop was grown for seed, seed that wouldn't be used on this farm either, rather passed on to other farmers...that's how it goes. So I learnt something new today, and gained more understanding of what I'm seeing, and the processes going on, in the fields. Walking away I realised I'd not why the seed went on to other farms, a question for another day, I'll have hypothesise until then.

Beach thief

The beach thief has struck again. The intertidal is a region in flux, this is no more apparent than along Naish beach. Since we walked here last week the face of the beach has changed from being a gently sloping profile, there's now a 0.3 to 0.5 meter step at the top of the beach. A huge amount of material, sand, clay and gravel has been excavated by the sea and transported by long shore drift further east. This is only temporary, mind, this cycle is perpetual, it wont be long before the beach is replenished and it's gently sloping profile restored. Then, it wont be long before it's scoured again, you get the picture. Further along the beach there's a finger of Barton clay now extending across the beach into the surf, there's been an isolated slippage creating an effect barrier to walkers unless the tide's out...which may account for there being no bugger down here, honestly, it was like a winter walk, not a soul about. Events like these are usually more, though not entirely, associated with the winter months, however these days 'usually' is becoming quite a redundant phrase in relation to natures moods.

Solitude

The beach was ours this morning.

Chewton Bunny

Walkford Brook runs through Chewton Bunny as it nears the sea. A New Forest stream which once served as a moonlit route for smugglers up to the forest plains to their contraband stashes and distribution points. I wonder if brexit will see a return to the days of the smuggler?

Chewton's secrets

Over the years Chewton Common has become fragmented, reduced in scale by successive housing developments, today it remains as various sized and shaped pockets of dispersed common. All these pocket have an official path(s) crossing them, though these paths don't really allow you to appreciate the natural worlds your walking through, to do that you have to follow the folk paths created by.... local folk. When you leave the official path you realize that the common is not homogeneous (something you could do if you stayed on track), it's rather a diverse patchwork of different environments, heath, grassland woodland (deciduous and coniferous) and where streams flow, fingers of wetland. Put some headphones on to block the sounds of man and modernity, and it's easy to imagine yourself walking outside of the urban sprawl.  So lucky to have these natural boltholes literally on my doorstep.

Urban Islands

Throughout the expanse of one storey dwellings, which sprawl between Christchurch and Highcliffe, known as Bungalow Land, are numerous small natural oases and corridors. Remnants of a previous landscape or landscapes, consumed by modernity's creeping conurbation. Though if you look, these urban island still exhibit clues to their past, acting as windows through time. Take this small island, with it's numerous trees, it could easily just be estate landscaping, though take a closer look, a few of trees are easily in excess of 100 years old, there's a low bank and shallow filled ditch running through the middle of it too. The bank is recorded on an old 1885 map, and was still there on the 1969 map, you can clearly see the bank running across Chewton Common and through open woodland. In 1885, beyond the small main village Highcliffe was predominantly open woodland, pockets of open heath and farmland, with a few scatter of houses, and several big houses with grounds. This remained the story of the area until the post war period, when suburbanization got it's claws in, though it wasn't until the 60's and 70's that the area was finally consumed, the bank would have truncated and isolated in those latter tranche of developments.

Winter beach

Considering the coast is at the end of the road, 10 minutes walk away, we don't walk there as much as you'd imagine. We should really, it's lovely walking, with great views. It's funny how you can overlook what's right under your nose.

Sky

Today the sky had a lovely Rodney Matthews-esque appearance to it.

What a hoot.

Someone has carved this wonderful Owl on a stump alongside one of the paths in bungalow land. The photo doesn't really give an accurate impression of scale, it's a mature trees stump and the whole thing stands about 2m high. It's so cool that people take the time and make the effort to produce street art, particularly when it's done out of the way, where the surprise of finding art packs an even bigger punch. More surprise art, I say. Fantastic!