Saved by centimetres

This veteran Beech (fagus) was saved by mere centimetres, a casualty of ravenous ponies short of food, she'd be a goner like dozens of her sisters if completely ringed.  A consequence of too many ponies for the forest to sustain, and the equine owners not providing supplementary food. The number of ponies has risen from around 1300 in the mid fifty's to near 5000 today, that's a lot of pressure on the forest. You'll see evidence of gnawing like this on individual Beech trees all over the forest, although Mark Ash is by far the worst cluster I know, so many beautiful trees slighted, in such a picturesque tract of the forest too. 

Bountiful Beech mast

The boughs on some of the forests beeches are weighed down with mast this year, good size too by the looks of them. Although the small triangular Beechnuts are described as bitter, I've always found them to have a good mildly nutty taste. For me the real prohibitive issue around them as a wild food is the processing required, which is fiddly and laborious. Anyway, if we don't eat them some of the forests birds and smaller mammals rely on them.  Still worth remembering as wild resource.

Back to the woods

The forest has changed markedly since we were last here back in March, the stands were still naked then. The greening of the forest is a wonderful sight, everywhere life is stirring. You can feel the energy rising. Magnificent! The filling canopy is flush with bird song; this morning we heard our first (...maybe two) Cuckoo of the year. Amongst the stands ponies lazily graze not bothered by our presence, occasionally a deer, spooked by our approach, would disappear quickly into the closest thicket, though some tough it out, just stand there as you pass...you ain't seen me, right! Everywhere there's the sights and sounds of activity, nature's opening up for business. The New Forest is two forests really, the open forest and the wooded one, this morning the majority of our walking was through the latter, we did 12 miles, about 9 of which were immersed in woodland. So green. You can't beat woodland's embrace, I feel deeply connected and at home in woodland, comfortable, I always have. I'm woodland people.

Mark Ash

At the furthest point of our walk today we found ourselves amongst the tall ancient and veteran stands of Mark Ash, what a stunning area of forest it is. Mark Ash is picturesque open woodland, popular with ponies, deer and in Autumn people taking autumnal tinted photos. I'd imagine it's what people would think of as New Forest forest. Sadly the woodland is becoming ever more open as the years pass, over grazing by hungry ponies has led to too many trees being ringed and subsequently dying, coupled with that the increased onslaught of the elements are really taking their toll. I'll admit it slightly colours our walks here with a sense of loss and sadness. Still a wonderful place and walking mind.

Mark Ash

Around the forest the autumn tints are developing beautifully, Mark Ash today was absolutely magical. 

Defiance

It's quite the wonder how some of the forest's ancient and veteran leviathans endure in the face of time and the elements. Their defiance and determination in the face of what appears overwhelming adversity is inspiring.  

Carry me

And together in this mad land
Far from the truest of hands
Well I'll carry you
If you'll carry me
Carry me
Carry me friend
Oh carry me 

The Levellers, Carry me, 1990

Mark Ash winter sun

The low winter sun burst through the ancient stands of Mark Ash this morning, flooding the woodland in a wonderful light. Lovely. The woodland's quiet, though you'd be mistaken to think there's nothing going on, look and you see ponies grazing, frenetic squirrels, small birds flitting about drooped bracken, large birs looking on from high perches, a cautiously deer drinks from a water born rivulet, aware that the open forest left it exposed, it disappears quickly as we approach. There's plenty going on it the winter forest, it's just happening, for the most part, in understated ways.

Naked

Held firm now in winters embrace, with the fall near complete, our forest stands in naked glory, the ancient leviathans of Mark Ash's, Barrow Moor, once again stand in magnificent isolation, in suspension, enjoying their rest and waiting for a new cycle to begin. The forest feels open and exposed now.

Mark Ash fall

The colour's quickly fading from the trees as more and more leaves turn and fall. Soon the fall will be complete and natures quiet winter slumber will begin. It's still stunning out here, mind, every season in the forest has something to share and offers opportunities to experience and learn.

Chlorophyllic break down

If you want to catch the autumnal magnificence of the New Forest's chlorophyllic break down, then now is the time. It's absolutely gorgeous. In 24 hours the colours of the forest have changed radically, as the trees shout their last hussar in the richest bronze and golden hues.  When this moment drops in the forest there's really only place to go...Mark Ash Wood. Mark Ash Wood is beautiful in any season, it's majestic Oak and Beech have been rooted here for centuries and seen many autumns. You can feel it as you wander the stands, feel the history. It's a beautiful part of the forest with a myriad of tracks and paths crossing it, there's absolutely stunning walking in all directions. I'd advise you don't hold off too long, any strong winds and rain will reek havoc on the show, once the fall sets in there's no stopping it. As I walked today with just a gentle breeze, the leaves fell continuously like gentle snow flurries.

Gnarly Trunks

It's wonderful how some ancient Oak trunks gnarl up as they return to the earth. Their trunks becoming ever changing patterned landscapes, works of organic art, another aspect of natures art gallery.  The views and vistas of the forest are like the great canvases of old masters and the trunks and stumps wondrous sculptures. Like any good gallery, you can loose yourself in both.

Stir crazy!

First day out of the house after nearly 2 weeks of proper bed ridden flu, well, other than a couple of brief tripped out and nauseated outings to the food fortress, shit doesn't get done if I don't do it. Man, I hate being ill. Today was the first time I'd felt near (only near) human enough to venture out in to the woods. And as if in support, the sun shone, as wrapped in many layers, buffs and topped with a thick beanie, I stumbled coughing through the stands. The forest was beautiful, I stood breathing in the fresh clear air, so refreshing after the thick muggy air of inside, whilst above me the ancient beech and oak of Mark Ash towered reaching for the sky, it's interesting to note how often you see an Oak and a Beech planted together out here in the forest. Ah, healing nature, you can really feel it. My wander only lasted about 25 minutes before, although I wanted to continue, I knew it would probably be to my detriment if I walked further. You notice as you get older, lurgies last longer and you don't bounce back quite as quickly. It's hard to accept, though it is how it is. Well, it's nearly 2 weeks into January and now everything's behind, I'm always trying catch up as it is, better get a shuffle on.

Steaming

Steaming! No, not me, the forest. It was one of those perfect winters days today, it was chilly cold as you walked through a carpet of ice frosted leaves, low in the sky the sun shore brightly with just enough warmth to undo Jack's work where it touched. It was a day of two halves. Steam rose off every surface exposed to the sun, whilst Jack held the shade, and you could certainly feel the difference. Bloody lovely.

Mark Ash autumn

The autumn show is muted this year around the forest; some years it goes like that. It's a combination of things, and it's not been helped by the winds of a while back which stripped the crowns of much of their glory.  Still, as always, the forest is nevertheless beautiful, and Mark Ash is a particularly beautiful area. Ancient Oaks and Beech dominate open forest, it feels old, around these majestic trees lay the hulks of their fallen comrades returning to the earth, all, adrift in a sea of bracken. Sadly more will be joining the fallen, last year saw an awful lot of damage done by hungry ponies gnawing bark; some trees had their bark removed completely up to a metre high. These 'ringed' trees are very unlikely to survive, and although may remain features for years to come, they'll no longer contribute to the canopy. Sad. Though my walk today was thoroughly uplifting. 

Pony stripping

Further to my recent posts about ponies stripping Beech tree in the forest, an in-particular around Mark Ash, I came across this short piece of footage taken in Mark Ash of ponies stripping beech bark. It really needs dealing with urgently.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xW-_xOVk4Qc

Red raw

Another Beech stripped bare by ponies, a worrying trend. This red raw example stuck out wildly amongst the other trees.  I saw dozens of trees like this on my walk today, not all freshly gnawed, but stripped in recent times. This example was, again, in Church Moor, a hot spot for this behaviour, as I can see. Chris Packham reckons says it's 'heartbreaking to see', and, man, I too feel that pain too when I see the forest I love being destroyed through mismanagement and greed.  The bodies supposed to be managing and safeguarding the forest are the very same responsible for the damage.  Action to reduce the pony population is needed quickly if we are to save the forest. Over dramatic? No.  Gnawing on Hollies has been commonplace for years, the Hollies appear more resilient and endure, whereas, I don't remember seeing Beeches gnawed until relatively recently (last few years), but this year I've seen an explosion in the number of trees damaged and, more urgently, destroyed.  I've also pointed out to those walking with me, the lack of saplings setting and growing up to take the places of the fallen. If something isn't done soon, there'll be no future forest.....and that doesn't bare thinking about.

Chill

The forest was proper frosty this morning, and all the more beautiful that frosty dusting. The was a magical ethereal atmosphere amongst the stands. The canopies were silent, the ponies stood motionless and throughout the forest nothing appeared to move, a deserted landscape where every footfall could be crisply heard.  If there were other walkers about, I didn't see or hear them, to all intents and purposes we was alone, the forest was ours.  It may have been f*cking cold, and it was (the coldest I remember for some time), but it was welcomed, I'd have a morning like this over a wet one any time. Lovely.

Church Moor

The colourful Beeches of Church Moor in Mark Ash Wood.

Dead ringers

This is a phenomena I've not elsewhere in the forest, yeah, I regularly see where ponies have gnawed at trunks, usually Holly, extensively sometimes, and other species too. Though I've not seen mature semi ancient Beeches stripped in this fashion.  Dotted around Mark Ash Wood I saw at least 8, and I'm sure there'd be more, majestic beech trees completely ringed, their outer bark removed, up to  2m or more up the trunk on some.  It doesn't bode well for the trees survival, I'm sure. I wonder what it is that the ponies get from gnawing. Shame, they're some lovely trees.