Tree skeleton

Traditionally the standard practice was to remove deadwood from the managed enclosures of the New Forest on the grounds of woodland hygiene. They stopped that practice 30 years ago?, I don't know, years back anyway. As a consequence tree skeletons now litter many of the forest's stands, with new recruits gathered to their cause with each storm wind.

Turkey Oak

A more and more common sight, the Turkey Oak (Quercus cerris) is an aggressively invasive visitor to our forest. A native of Southern Europe the species was introduced into south west Britain in 1735 and loves the sandy acid soils of the New Forest.

Burley Old

The root bole in the centre background, seen from between the root boles of a recently toppled conjoined Oak and Beech, has been there for at least 30 years and is now entirely hollow. Walking land over an extended period of years allows a glimpse at forest time. The divided Oak and Beech were only slighted during late spring (the bottom photo was taken back in May), the oak falling and blocking one of the woods well used winding paths; in fact both trees were veteran trees of a good height, and have formed a formidable barrier in the woodland...and will do for decades to come. Some kind soul has cut through the tangle of roots, filled the hole and created a narrow passage through what was impassable mess, and now the woodland path flows once more. Nice.

Catkin

Catkins like beautiful yellow fireworks are exploding all over the common, tis their season to shine, and shine they do. The willows are certainly putting on an impressive show. They appear so profuse this year too, or maybe it's simply I'm noticing them more, that their presence is a welcome sign of continuity in our turbulent world.

 

 

Ents

Throughout the forest the Ents move freely.

Gnarly Oak

I love the forest's gnarly Oaks, standing proudly in defiance throughout their final trimester. I say trimester, as an oaks life is divided into three portions, growing, living, decaying, each can be up to three hundred years in duration. Like natural sculptures, fashioned by time, the elements and the myriad insects and creatures who shape the forest, they are as much works of art as anything found in an art gallery.

Birch Flowers

One of our young Silver Birches (Betula pendula) is in full flower at the moment, the female flowers put on quite a show.

Smashing

We only skirted the edge of Burley Old this morning and saw ten or more trees downed, most in two groups. In both a large tree had fallen taking out some of the surrounding smaller trees. This veteran beech of fair girth crushed at least three, a mature oak and two birch, maybe more it was quite a mess,  the core of the beech was well punky, and may have been why it succumbed to the winds, that and it's on the woodland fringe, exposed. Whilst a little further on a large oak had taken out another smaller oak, a beech, a birch and two hollies. As I say, we really only skirted the enclosure, I dread to think how many more are down. Burley Old has suffered terribly in recent years, losing the veteran trees is bad enough, losing the younger trees too, that just adds insult to injury. The enclosure looks a sorry state, particularly viewed through the seasons naked lens.

Tree prison

It's not right. They're all forced to stand in lines in the tree prison.

Going nuts.

We've a couple of Hazelnuts and a Cobnut in the garden, and last autumn I cut the rods out of them, leaving the parent trees unscathed. Doing that I assumed we wouldn't have much of a crop  of nuts this year...in the case of the Cobnut, I was mistaken. The Cobnut tree is more laden with fruits than I've ever seen it, good sized fruits too. Cobnuts are a corylus cultivar, very like the Hazelnut (corylus avellana) though propagated for much larger fruit, two maybe three times the size of the common hazelnut. I'll watch with interest how the fruits develop, as in years past the fruit case may have been well developed, though the fruit inside was not. Still, if they do come to fruition, we'll have quite a crop.

Camouflage and concealment

Do you ever think about camouflage and concealment, or things like escape and evasion when you're out walking? No. It's just me then, isn't it. Today I was wondering how hard it would be to be spotted from above whist travelling beneath a summer canopy. A person must be near impossible to spot, don't you reckon?

My cherry

I just know some bird's going to have my cherry. No, it's not a  1970's 'Carry On' line (and shame on you if that's what came to mind). I've had this Cherry tree for years (it was given to me by an old friend), every year is produces quite a few cherries, although none ever make it to fruition. This year, as usual, the fruits formed, and, as usual, the birds feasted, though one or two survived, and one, well hidden amongst the leaves, has made it well towards to adult cherry-hood. It may just get eaten by me....may!

Tenacious tree

You have to be a tenacious tree to live by the sea.

Here kitty kitty.

Here kitty kitty.

Dainty flowers

For years I'd never noticed the tiny flowers on the Hazel. Yeah, the male catkins, they're very obvious to see hanging down, sometimes in clusters; but not the tiny reddish pink styles of the female flowers are much easier to pass by unless you're looking very closely. The Hazel (Corylus Avellana) is monoecious, with both male and female flowers on the same tree, although they can't self pollinate and require another hazel to produce fruits. Another sign of springs burgeoning.

Fall

The 'Fall' was an apt description of the forest today, a wind heralding winters approach stirred the canopy, loosening leaves sending them in swirling cascades earthwards. Amongst the stands individual trees shone out, radiant in autumn hues, whilst most of their friends still cling to dulling greens. The developing colour has been slow to come this year, so far it's been a muted affair. I wonder if we'll see much of a show of colour, or whether the leaves will be blown before that can happen.  Still, these isolated pockets of radiance are a joy to see. Autumn's a wonderful time of year here in the forest.

Beech

The magnificent veteran and ancient Beech are, each and every one, majestic queens of the forest.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

September heralds autumn proper, and on cue the leaves turn. The first to show their autumnal finery are also the early adopters of spring...the Birch. Though it's not just them. This mighty Beech (Fagus sylvatica) showed several isolated twigs displaying their autumn colours. I do love the autumn, it's like the spring, full of change and energy.

Old wood

The old woods are slowly dying, recent changes in weather have laid waste to so many irreplaceable ancient trees, other trees are having their bark stripped by hungry ponies whose population has increased in the pursuit of profit and few new saplings rise to take their place as an out of control deer population sees them as a tasty treat. I know everything changes. I don't see the forest the Canadians and Portuguese saw in the First World War, whilst they didn't see the forest the admiralty timber growers of the 18th Century saw, nor they the Royal hunting forest of William the Bastard and he not the wild wood of the prehistoric inhabitants . Nothing stays the same. I know that, though still lament the passing of the forest I know and love. 

Up turned

Still the forest suffers from the effects of our erratic climate with its heavy rains and incessant strong wind. You can't visit the forest without seeing more destruction. More trees who've succumbed to the elements, roots so sodden make easy victims for the winds, and are upturn and humbled. And, more trees with their limbs ripped from them. It's terrible sight. Especially so when it's multiple mature trees, Oaks, Chestnut, Beech, which have been torn down. So many years growing and so many years to replace, gone in no time at all.