South Oakley

South Oakely enclosure

Geoff in a snowy scene

 

I like this shot of Geoff in a snowy scene.

Snow way, man.

As I sat drinking my morning coffee listening to the sound of rain, it was still dark outside. I wasn't looking forward to this mornings walk. I set off from Anderwood with a sigh, expecting a wet walk, though it wasn't rain that fell but snow! Oh, huzzah. The prevailing wet had meet the cold, and snow was their progeny, It was coming down at a fair rate, and settling too. We don't often get snow in these parts, and even when we do it doesn't last. So you've got to make the most of it. The walking was wonderful, the forest was quickly being transformed into a magical winter wonderland. When it snows the timeless child in you steps to the fore. Everything felt lighter. I felt an deep calm come over me as we walked through the falling snow, and it felt so good. I could've wandered the stands all day.

Nursery blocks

 

I mentioned a ways back that silver birch were commonly grown in nursery blocks with longer lived hard woods such as oaks and beech amongst them, the quick growing birch affording shelter and protection. The sheltered trees being big enough to go it alone their birch defenders are for the most part cleared.

Snow way

Snow way, man. Rarer than hens teeth or rocking horse shit, since I was a child snow in these parts has almost become a thing of legend. Not that it was ever an annual, but we would get heavy snow quite regularly. Looking back through my blog the last good show of snow appears to have been Imbolc back in 2019. When it snows proper though, the forest stands are transformed into a wonderland surpassing even that of Narnia. Alas this morning was merely a dusting, and then only on the occasional stump or prone trunk. Still. 

South Oakley

The forest was gorgeous walking this morning, nice light, quiet and still, and not a soul in sight, we had the place to ourselves.

Douglas downed

Aw, what a bummer, man; sadly the mighty Douglas Fir that I featured in my post of the 6th of February has joined the hallowed ranks of the fallen. My heart sunk as I approached a familiar parcel of woodland and new immediately which tree had succumbed to Storm Eunice; what a shame. The once towering Fir's shattered and ripped trunk is evidence of the power of the elements; the forces involved in causing that sort of damage are something else; what must it have been like when it went; I'm sure it put up a heroic stand, defiant to the end.

Douglas

My favourite non native tree species found in the forest is the majestic North American Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii). The oldest in Douglas Firs in the forest date from around the middle of the 1800's, and if they're lucky they'll still be here in another 400 years or more; that said, I don't know whether they'll reach their full potential in size or age outside their native region. They're impressive trees, their crowns often standing proud of the surrounding canopy, a thick gnarly russet hued outer bark hides a fibrous red/orange hued inner bark, wounds yield good quantities of heavily scented resin which has medicinal uses, and can be used as incense too. The most notable group of Douglas Firs in the forest create the impressive focus of  Rhinefield's Ornamental Drive, though many others can be found alone or in various sized groups throughout the forest.

And breath

Our walk through the forest was undertaken at a fair pace; we completed 5.3 miles in 79 minutes; not bad eh. We took the all weather forestry track from Wood's Corner through the broad leaf and conifer mosaic of South and North Oakley enclosures, which finishes 4 miles later atop Mogshade Hill; although we only made it as far as Smokey Hole before turning back on ourselves. But for the chatter of birds high in the canopy the forest was all very quiet and still; walking was proper meditation this morning. A reliable walking surface allowed me to work on my breathing; practising what I'd describe as my version of box breathing on the flat, breathing through my nose, inhale 3, hold 2, exhale 3, hold 2 (more like rectangle breathing), and inhaling through my nose and out through pursed lips on the climbs; all the time trying to maintain a calm relaxed posture whilst sustaining reasonable cadence. I found myself a good rhythm; legs and breath working in harmony. A good walk.

Broken

The broken disarticulated parts of a storm damaged beech lay jumbled and heaped around it's trunk in South Oakley; this ancient beech, I'd suggest easily old enough to pre-date the enclosure of this land in 1853, has succumbed to the ferocity of the elements. I notice from the perspective of the photo that it's hard to gauge scale, giving the tree the impression of appearing much smaller than it is; that horizontal branch is actually about 2.5m or so from the ground. I wonder if she'll struggle on? Many do; I know it's been well and truly slighted, but several smaller lower branches, like the horizontal one, remain unharmed and viable; I've seen trees come back from worse.

Wintery Walk

It was another frosty morning for our walk in the forest. This morning we began from Wood's Corner on the outskirts of Burley. Getting out early doors meant we beat the hordes, the empty parking spot felt old skool, since the Covid the forest footfall has exploded. Luckily most don't walk far from their cars or remain on the the main tracks, making it easy still to escape and find peace. There was no one about as we skirted the edge of Berry Woods taking in the view over White Moor Bottom; crossing Ridley Green the Mill Lawn Brook tributary running through there was frozen, not seen that in forever; Ridley wood's a lovely old wood set within an ancient earthwork, it's home to some fantastic old beeches, sadly many have been slighted by age and the elements in recent years; we passed Little Wood a clump crowning Ridley Plain before descending into Harvest Slade Bottom, a spookily quiet spot this morning, then up onto Backley Plain; past Soarley Beeches along the edge of Backley Enclosure and across Blackensford Bottom, from where the clump of Soarley Beeches looked like an hillfort in the distance...it's not; then it was the return stretch through the irregular mosaic woodlands of Beech Bed and South Oakley enclosures. 7 miles of New Forest winter loveliness. You can't beat it.

Infinity and beyond

Expressions of love are a common focus in graffiti. You regularly see 'someone' for 'someone' carved into a smooth barked trunk, a Beech or a Holly. Frequently circled by a heart pierced by an arrow, although the example I discovered today is something different, it has a mathematical tip to it, 'Jon plus Alison equals infinity'. Original take, not seen it expressed like that before. I've said it before, it's difficult to exact age most graffiti (unless dated or topic dates it), too many factors, though through compassion after looking a hundreds of carvings I reckon you can postulate a plausible date, and I'd say this about 30/40 years old. Of course, as we made our way on I couldn't help but wonder how Jon and Alison's love had faired.

Grey day

When the sun's shining you can easily forget that it's February, bathing in that faint warm glow, imagining spring has sprung. It came over really quite grey this morning as we sat amongst some veteran beech in South Oakley, and looking upwards I was reminded that winter still reigns.

Sunny trunks

Though the forest may be wet and sloppy underfoot, this morning a gradually strengthening sun shone hope through the tall conifer stands of South Oakley of spring to come.

Down the drain

As I've mentioned before, the New Forest isn't really a natural phenomena, it's by far the consequence of 6000 years of human manipulation and exploitation, even the restoration of open heath or streams to their previous courses only restores the land to another arbitrary point in human exploitation.  Natural would have been the wild wood, and that fell to stone axes. The forest we see today was, and still to a great degree is, shaped by forestry and the production of timber.  Young deciduous trees grow in expansive blocks amongst a filigree of varying sized drainage ditches, which in turn feed the larger drains flowing in to the forests streams. Soon this extensive network, mostly dormant through the middle of the year, will come to life. 

Coniferous canopy

Many of the exotics you see in the forest today were planted around the mid 19th century; I think it was all the rage in posh circles. The most famous, and the most visited is Rhinefield's Ornamental Drive of redwoods and firs, which was created for the nearby manor house in 1859. The Coast Douglas Fir is a favourite exotic seen about. All over the forest there are Coast Douglas Firs (Pseudotsuga menziesii) dotted around, most will have been planted about 150 years or so ago, so still have a good 400 left to grow, and they're already very tall, projecting well above the surrounding deciduous canopy.  Towards their tops their trunks are covered in numerous small straight branches, which remind me of 'Kerplunk'. They look like they'd made it easy to climb, though I don't think those branches are that sturdy, and how you'd scale the meters of near bare trunk to get up to them to start with, is uncertain.