Tummy rub?

I've met these pigs (a group of 8 or 9) a couple times foraging along the banks of Red Rise brook this pannage. These two rolled over like dogs to get their tummies rubbed, and enjoyed every minute of it. I was happy to be of service.

Red Rise Shade

 

Shade in the Shade.

Light and shade play in Red Rise Shade

Stampede

Not my best photo, though in my defence the stampeding ponies came out of nowhere; they converged on a ford through Red Rise Brook from three different directions, and moved with purpose up through the shade towards Spy Holms. 

Galloping

 

We were just breaking Red Rise Shade and after chilling by the brook I was lost in thought, when out of nowhere about a dozen galloping ponies passed within a few meters of us, followed by handful more, then shortly after a further two small groups and finally a two pony rear guard*.  They charged through the stands into the open gorse pocked heath and up towards the sunken trackway on Rock Hills and on to Spy Holms without pausing or deviation from purpose. Geoff was all of a dither, he didn't know what to make of it or do, I'll admit to feeling similarly; their sudden appearance so close, and my concerns for Geoff's safety was quite the adrenaline rush; as they vanished into the distance I felt as if I'd absorbed some of their energy as they'd passed. Clearly my fight or flight response had been triggered; moments like this and your instinctive reactions to them reminds you you're a human animal. A few minutes later upon reaching Spy Holms ourselves we found the ponies now tranquilly grazing without a care in the world.

*I noted that 'tail end Charlie' was a stallion, just an observation

Manicured forest

As I've mentioned before for the most part the forest is far from a 'natural' landscape; the chocolate box images you'd associate with the New Forest don't come without constant management and meticulous manicuring. That's most evident on the heathland created by early prehistoric farmers clearing for agriculture, which without constant attention would rapidly disappear under re-colonization by shrubs and trees. As we approached Red Rise Shade we could hear the machinery way before it came into view; I said manicure, though it's sometimes more of a mauling, the machinery pulverizes the gorse and heather, as well as small trees, and even churns the ground in places. It's not an attractive look. A positive aspect is how clearing the 2m plus high gorse opens up new vistas, I like that.   

I see ya

Rutting season continues and although we stay well clear of the rutting grounds, deer can be found skulking everywhere; Geoff's ears prick up at every clump of bracken we pass, often with good reason as a deer will usually break cover bolting off only to disappear again as quickly as it appeared. Geoff and I watched the stag above for a minute or two as it watched us before trotting off deeper into the woods. It's a busy time of year out here in the forest as the inhabitants conclude their year and prepare for winter's closing.

Hip hip

 

One of the wild fruits of the forest that appears to have done really well this year are the Dog Roses (Rosa canina), their bright fruits, or hips, can be seen throughout the forest. Rose hips are packed with goodness including high levels of vitamins C, B and E, along with a wide range of other beneficial compounds and have long been utilized as a consequence. During world War Two Britain relied on Rose Hips for their Vitamin C; school children, Guides and Scouts, and Women’s organizations were encouraged to collect the hips, which were subsequently sent for industrial processing; in the autumn of 1941 200 tons, or 134,000,000 hips made 600,000 bottles of rose hip syrup. We could do with re-learning many of the foraging skill of our elders and ancestors; really, we should never have abandoned the suite of foraging/bushcraft skills that sustained us for millennia.

Solace

Cultural modernity is draining, man, the constant hum of the human world is omni-present and insistent; opportunities to mentally over stimulate oneself are boundless, and rarely manifest feelings of well being or inner tranquillity; an endless projection of anxiety or anger generating 'news and views' is available 24/7, negative emotion by design. The forest has long been my antidote to cultural modernity, my green prozac; and walking is my daily rehabilitation and re-armouring before returning to the world of man. I know I can't be alone in my views on contemporaneity, nor in finding solace in the arms of the green world.

Lost and found

Archaeology is rubbish the title of one of the Time Team's books reads, and of course a lot of the time it is, other times it's things that are purposely deposited or more often though lost. I can't remember the number of knifes I've found in the forest (and I've lost a few too); often quite degraded and well beyond use, they were once a persons beloved and much used tool. I came across this example today just beyond the bank of Red Rise Brook, in a spot I've passed hundreds of times; yet I've never noticed this old knife lying there, and it's clearly quite old judging by it's condition. I suppose it's well camouflaged colour wise which may explain why I'd not clocked it previously, that or it may have been recently disturbed by animals from the nearby undergrowth. It's an odd looking knife, with a blunt rounded tip like an Opinel No7, I can't make it out; I suppose it could be a razor or similar. Left exposed it'll not make it to become a future archaeological find, that said even buried in these acidic sandy soils it wouldn't last beyond an ephemeral stain. Interesting find though; I'll keep my eye on it.

Black

It was early when we set out, the forest was dour and still blanketed grey, which suited my mood,...this morning I was Jonny Nice Painter. I trudged down Rock Hills towards a misty Red Rise feeling sorry for myself, trailing a grey cloud of my own creation. Through the gorse clumped landscape of Red Rise Furze Brake we reached the open woodland of Red Rise Shade and the stream; Geoff never says no to water, and insists on doing his dog-odile impression, just his eyes above the water with his nose blowing bubbles. Funny bugger. The stands were illuminated by a diffuse light, a hidden sun shone through the thinning veil of autumn mist, giving the scene a magical air... lovely. You can understand why our ancestors held streams and wet places in high regard. I stood breathing it all in, taking some time to tune into the forest, the sights, sounds and smells of the surrounding woodland. Tranquillity reigned through Red Rise, quiet and still other than the babbling stream and an occasional bird. I could've settled it, though we were on a mission, so after a while we said farewell to the stream and moved off towards Burley Old and the wider forest beyond. Standing there I must have inhaled some of that tranquillity,  as walking off I felt lighter, my mood lifted and my demeanour completely changed. Powerful medicine nature, fast acting too.

Camouflage

I asked around, and they call her camouflage.

Poor paw Geoff

Poor Geoff. A visit to the vets this morning confirmed what I'd thought after yesterdays walk, that a broken claw means Geoff's on short walks on the lead for the next week. I know a dog who wont be happy with that, he's used to 3 to 5 miles a day and a longer walk on a Sunday.  Yesterday, he came bounding through the undergrowth of Red Rise Shade, blood all over his front leg, on inspection, clearly a claw...and not one I could deal with. It didn't appear to bother him muchly, though it was still a fraught walk back as we were still over a mile out. He's still doesn’t appear bothered by it, nor his bandage, which is cool.

Magical misty morning

You can't beat mornings like these, the eerie diffused light, with all the landscape's colours drained and muted, that rich earthy petrichor smell filling your senses, and the soft muffled sounds combine to create a unique magic. It resonates deeply with you on several different levels, conscious and subconscious.

Red Rise risen

Today Red Rise Brook has risen making places to cross limited, the usually gentle and docile stream is running well beyond it's banks, with crossings limited to the forestry bridges and a couple of fortuitously placed trees. Of course, it can extend much further, to the point where as a consequence of flooding even the bridges are redundant, although today's still a timely reminder of the shape of the wet season forest, and it's associated navigational considerations. 

The autumn forest

The autumn forest. Red Rise Wood and Shade with Burley Old beyond, as seen from Rock Hills on the edge of Spy Holms. A view you never tire of, and lovely route to take into the forest.

Oh Beehive

Two faces of bees in the forest, professional bee keeping hives placed out to exploit the forests heathery bee gardens, and a wild colony hidden in one of Red Rise's oaks. You see the professional hives out every year (soften a dozen or so grouped together), the forest has one of the largest beekeeping associations in the country, and produces some fine honey. The wild colony I first spotted one spring some years back, each year I've checked on the colony, and they appear to be doing okay. I don't know how long it'll endure though, a queen only has a 3 to 4 year lifespan. I don't know if the colony then disbands or another queen steps up and the colony continues on.  Thinking about it, I'm sure it was longer than 4 years ago I first came this tree.

Hard rain

The sound of acorns falling earthward followed us on our walk through Burley Old and along the wooded corridor of Red Rise Brook this morning...it was near continuous. It's been a good year for the acorn, with oaks boughs hanging low, soon you'll be treading them underfoot as they begin to cover the forest floor. The pigs will be happy though, in a few weeks it'll be pannage. Pannage in the New Forest dates back to AD1079, when during September around 600 pigs (much greater numbers were released in previous centuries) are released into the forest stands for a minimum of two months to eat their fill of Oaknuts (as well as other nuts). A feast for the pigs and a blessing for the New Forest ponies; acorns are poisonous to ponies. I look forward to seeing the pigs roaming the woodland, they're animals with character. You need to watch out, mind, not all of them are friendly, although that said, most are, and very inquisitive too. 

Close but no cigar

You see this quite a bit nowadays, some one has had a BBQ out in the forest. Whoever it is has thought about the effects of the hot BBQ on the dry grass/earth, unfortunately, good as their idea appeared, it never really works. It shows willing though lack of experience/knowledge. The funny thing is when you see remains of this nature they're inevitably next to streams (that's the source of the stones), and the perfect safe place for a BBQ or small fire* is on a area of exposed gravelly stream bed. Another things is, although maybe not so important in light of the heat of a BBQ, is the type of stones commonly found in the forest are usually silica based flints and cherts which will explode if exposed to prolonged or intense heat, sending razor shards flying in all directions. Still, close but no cigar. And hey, it may be part of someone’s learning journey, and we all had to learn. 

*fires are forbidden in the forest, as too few people know sufficient bushcraft skills to undertake, what should be, rudimentary human activities. It's not really peoples problem, it a societal one, on the whole folk are disenfranchised from those aspects of human behaviour and the natural environment, and as a consequence are rarely socialized or educated as to how to be part of nature...rather than an alien in it.  

Crabby

The boughs of the forests Crab Apple trees (Malus sylvestris) are hanging low with nice sized fruits throughout Red Rise Shade. Hardy buggers the forest crab apples, you'll still see fruits hanging on right through the winter months. Fingers crossed, I'm hoping to makes some vodka based crab apple liqueur, come fall. I've not made it before, though it's pretty much the same as making sloe gin/vodka by all accounts, which is straight forward enough.

Circling

Three birds of prey glided slowly and effortlessly across the sky, performing a circling dance and occasionally screeching loudly as they duelled for supremacy. Although a serious matter for them, I found it strangely relaxing to watch.