So wet

Walking around the fields over Walkford Moor Copse ways was a proper nightmare this morning. I hadn't imagined it to be so wet and by the time I'd come to that conclusion I was already committed. Gods was it wet. Water was actually bubbling up through the ground, it was so sodden. Everywhere was muddy...everywhere. There was no path or route that wasn't viscus and slippery, none. Of course I was wearing totally unsuitable footwear leading to frequent slipping and wet feet. It was a mostly grumpy mumbling walk this morning. 

Fun filled field

Fun was had in the field this morning.

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.

First harvest

One aspect of our localized lockdown walks is getting insights into the agricultural year of our locale. Since March we've seen fields ploughed and seeded, their crops sprout, sheep grazing amongst the solar panels, black lambs born elsewhere, and now what must be one of the years earliest harvests. Yesterday these fields were expansive seas of shimming shin high vibrant green grass, today nought remains. Harvested for silage, a flurry of huge tractor drawn trailers raced back and forth transporting this important resource used to feed cattle through the winter to the storage silos where it'll be left to ferment until required. 

Carpet of Oak

The cities tiny Oaks have now become a dense carpets of Oaks. It's a very cool sight. I find myself in a quandary though. I know you shouldn't usually removed plants from the wild, and all that, though I also know that these Oaks will be seen as invasive, encroaching as they are on the farmers field and are undoubtedly destined to be destroyed. Do I try and rescue some, replanting them in safer spots around our locale....or not? I have to say, I'm leaning towards...yes. Though there's an issue, I wont be able to move them with much chance of success until winter, so it's whether or not they survive the plough/strimmer until then. 

City of tiny oaks

City of tiny oaks, don't you wanna grow.

Bathed in pollen

Thousands of small sun like Dandelions (Taraxacum) bloom in the grassy fringes of field and woodland, and in them hundreds of deftly moving bees stop to bathe in copious pollen.

Bluebells

Bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) carpet the open stands and overgrown coppice of Walkford Moor Copse and the wooded environs of the Walkford Brook. Maybe it's the reduction in pollution since the lockdown or maybe it's just a good year, but you can really smell the Bluebell flowers this year, their usually subtle though intoxicating scent is heavy in the air. Breathing in amongst them is a meditation.

Greening

The canopies of the Oak are developing quickly now.

The wheel keeps turning

Lockdown's really locked down, no more walks abroad beyond my home roam. I'm aware that living on the edge of the conurbation, where farmland and woodland border the forest and with the coast just 10 minutes walk away, that we're luckier than many, blessed to still be able to get into nature on our walks. Today we wandered around the fields and the edge of Walkford Moor Copse, through which the Walkford Brook flows. Walkford Brook meets the sea through Chewton Bunny, historically it was one of the streams which smugglers used to make their way up into the forest's heart with their valuable contraband, today though it's quiet but for the pheasants. I noticed as we walked, that the wheel keeps turning, even if the world of man has temporarily stopped. Some of the eagerer oaks are already pushing out this years growth, with a yellowy green hue creeping across parts of the canopy.

Primrose

The Primrose (Primula vulgaris) is one of my favourite spring wild flowers, they're always a joy to behold, particularly when found on mass...so pretty.

Blackthorn Blossom

Currently Blackthorn blossoms deck the hedgerows in a dense blanket of white, you can really see how frequent a fruiting shrub this member of the Rosaceae family is in the English landscape.