Vernal Equinox Stonehenge 2010

Though it wasn't cold, the sun couldn't be seen through a thick blanket of grey cloud, the air was damp, the wind blew; yet folk still gathered at the Stones; Rollo said lovely, as is his way, King Arthur shouted a bit, Dice George offered mumbled heckles whilst remembering a fallen Stonehenge supporter, noddies nodded, drummer drummed as the collection of brightly coloured, babbling nutbars, Druids, Pagans, misfits and the contingent of curious American visitors all welcomed in the spring. The sun may not have afforded the gathered Celebrants warmth, yet there was warmth, you could feel it amongst those ancient megaliths. Seasons greetings, a hope for burgeoning good fortune and a beautiful spring.

Holes

The forest returned to a more wintry feel again today; the air was chilled, the valleys shrouded in a mix of icy mists and wood smoke from forestry operations; plumes of smoke rose from several places around the forest and were clearly visible from the high ground of Picket Plain.  Descending down Marrow bones Hill towards the illustrated tree I took a route I had taken many times before and yet as I passed I noticed things I had previously overlooked.  Two circular depressions, if I were in Studland I would have thought them bomb craters, the a third larger hole, filled on one side by concrete debris...interesting.  This started a minor investigation.  Searching the undergrowth further, I found several old bottles, broken china, broken earthenware jar, brick fragments and iron work.  What was going on here, I don't yet know. 

Smokey

Deers

Two white female (Hinds) Fallow Deer (Dama dama) were casually making their way towards the Deer sanctuary at Bolderwood Farm, far too at ease with the nearby humans.  I've seen a few white Deer this winter, but never together; I've heard that there are two of a group of around 20 white fallow deer that roam the forest; I've never seen them.  They certainly stick out in both woodland and heath.  Their colour is caused by a gene and they are not, as people would think,  albinos. 

Crocus

A warming spring sun shines periodically from behind the cloud dappled sky, clouds which move with intent beyond the canopy, a barrier in motion to enjoying the sun as you'd like.  The mature Beech and Oak of the Old enclosure stretch their upper boughs and smaller limbs towards these skys; the forest feels ready to embrace the spring, having had its fill of the dank and cold.  Somewhere amongst the myriad of trees a Woodpecker sounds and as I pause, focusing to hear, I become aware of a cacophony of birds song; the forest sings.  Under foot the woodland floor is desiccated and brittle, crisp noisy leafs, all the energy they were has returned to the earth, readying for the emergence of springs  burgeoning. Protruding from the leaf litter is a single Crocus, a point of colour amongst the faded browns and oranges of last years glory; I passit again on my return and its delicate mauve petals have closed tight to the late afternoon chill.  Atop a knoll within the wooded enclosure are 2 mature Douglas Firs, tall and full, they stand out from the other trees, particularly at this time of year; taking the views through to Red Rise, it strikes me, the vista I'm enjoying will shortly be obscured as the tree adorn their leafy attire, closing in, creating secluded groves.  Stopping at one of the Douglas I inspect the bark for wounds where sticky resin may form; I collect some, as it warms between my fingers it releases a sweet pungent small.  At the next Fir I gather more, this time most is fresh, like clear honey; the smell hangs in the air.  Now two woodpeckers sound, one from either side of me.  The sun's been free of clouds for a while now, and as I make my way, my senses still swimming in the scent of resin, it becomes apparent to me ... I'm smiling a broad smile. Oh, the joys of the forest.

The Punisher; Dark Reign

The Punisher; Dark Reign is standard Punisher fare; well written, well thought out and nicely drawn and coloured.  Frank takes on Norman Osbourne AKA the 'Green Goblin' as his dark reign continues; using a alien sniper rifle the Punisher attempts to assassinate Osbourne but is thwarted by the intervention of 'sentry'. 

Setting sun

A busy day was brought to a close by a walk along the beach. The sun is going down, leaving a radiant glow on the horizon, with the disappearance of the sun beyond the Purbecks the air has taken on an additional chill.  The sea is calm and flat, allowing the colours of the sunset to be reflected.  Earlier in the day I'd been giving instruction on shelter building; how to build a bender using the roof beam techneque, as well how to use a basher; it went well, with lots of inovative shelter designs.  All round a productive and beautiful day.

Lotty

First visit to the lotty of the year; if only the plants you wanted grew as well as those you don't. There's allot of work to do, back aching digging over, strimming and cutting back; still, it'll look good when it's ready for action.  Now all we need is the retreat of Jack, the ground was frozen solid to cm deep! 

A chill wind

Although the sun shone brightly, I was right to dress prepared for winter weather. As I rose up Marrowbones Hill the sun warmed me, I even began to raise a sweat and imagined I'd overdressed for my walk; but on my arrival atop Ridley Plain it became apparent I had not. The wind, filled with eastern chill, cut across the higher plateau, scouring the land and my face; for the next 2 to 3 miles I pull the buff protecting my neck up over my nose and hunkered into the wind. The views across Akercome Bottom are glorious.  I'm passing, archaeology, a barrow from the Bronze age, years ago robbed out; past World War Two features, their purpose as yet unknown and then on into the dappled shade of Roe Enclosure.  The forest has many faces, all different, many striking in their beauty. 

Rockford

Rockford Common in the North of the forest, with views across to Ibsley Common and the Whitefeild Plantation in the center frame; open heathland at its finest.

Markway

Markway enclosure was one of the last phase of enclosures, having been created in 1959 in order to provide quick turn around timber, primarily for the construction trade I imagine. Now 60 years later, matured to fruition, it is being removed, opening up the heathland views and releasing ferny Knap enclosure. The removal has been ongoing for a few years now, with the early clearances regaining their natural heathland looks; the more recent sections look more like a battlefields; stumps, detritus and today as machines remodelled the land surface, smolding heaps the stumps and wood remains piled into large pyres to cash cropping. The smoke drifted through the remaining Pines, a sign to them of their impending fate.

Ferny knap

Ferny Knap is a small enclosure created in 1843, perched on a hillock overlooking the Ober Water valley and surrounded by heather rich heathland, with bog wetland filled gullies; like other enclosures, parts of it have been replanted with Pines, although some fine stands of adolescent Oaks remain.  Just over a 100 years later, in 1959,  Ferny was engulfed by by the later Markway enclosure; a modern money tree enclosure, where tightly planted Pines were cultivated as a cash crop.  The sun, although weak, shone through the trees casting light shadows, reminding one that the season is on the turn.  The smell of smoke, light but nevertheless tangible, drifted through the woodland from nearby forestry operations.

Today a large group of deer, enjoying the respite from the harsh cold,  spied me with suspicion, although not as much suspicion as they should an approaching human; over the last few years the deer population has increased significantly and they have become far to approachable.  That said, they pranced Merrily away when I drew too close, bouncing through the heather towards Ober Water as if it was all part of a game we were playing.

Trenches

Just beyond the boundary bank of Ferny Knap enclosure is a small group of, what I believe to be, World War Two trenches. The group, oval in nature, comprise of standard trench designs; 2 chevron, 1 zig zag section, 2 2 man and one individual fox hole. the are was well used during the war, although these represent the only trenches I have identified, other than the Battle field HQ group, in the forest. The boundary bank of Ferny Knap enclosure has been truncated in one section by what appears to have been a heavy tracked vehicle; the dimensions correspond with war time vehicles, there is evidence of tank tracks about a kilometre away and it would be interesting to see an areal photograph of the area just post war.  Such photos of the Studland area clearly show the tracks caused by tank / invasion training in 1943/1944 and the tracks can still be clearly seen in the landscape today, even after 65 years.  The area at Studland is very similar in nature the areas of the forest, heathland overlaying poor soils, there is no reason why more tracks shouldn't still be represented in the forest landscape.

Smokin

Smoke filled the sky over Milkham enclosure as forestry work continues to return the area to heathland. The land around the high section of Linford Brook is being cleared of Pines and other invasive shrubs, the ground cleared and the debris burned. The Milkham enclosure was originally enclosed in 1861, although like many others saw some of its Oaks, beeches and Chestnuts removed during the 60's in order to plant Pine. now there going and the views across Milkham Bottom up onto Bratley Plain are clear again.  The sun was out in a blue sky and despite the thin ice on sheltered pools of water and the cold forecast, the woods felt like spring; smoke from the pyres of Pine remains filtered through the trees allowing the suns rays to dance amongst the trunks. 

Wartime what?

Just outside Roe Enclosure (1700), near King's Garden, are a group of heavy set concrete features, many containing iron bars and/or fixings, amongst low mounds representing rectangular features,. surrounded by what appears to be a low curved bank on one side.  I'm not sure what these features represent, although by the looks of the concrete they date from World War Two; furthermore, they are relatively close close to Stoney Cross air field and so may represent an associated site.    

Dockens Water

Spawn

Red Shoot wood is dank and sodden, it sticks in my mind as one of the dampest places in the forest, not all of the wood, just the area beyond White Hill; here every aspect of the wood is dank, the ground yields easily underfoot, the trees are dark and appear to ooze moisture, even the ponies have a particularly bedraggled appearance.  I'm tiring now of the dampness, essential to the verdant beauty of the forest as it is; the season appears to be moving slowly, more slowly than usual; either that or I'm tiring of getting wet faster.  That said, the forest is still beautiful and a joy to walk through. 

Through Linford bottom runs  Linford Brook, a small waterway, often almost dry during the summer; now though it rushes by.  At one point, where to tributaries join, there are two natural ponds.  The larger of these ponds is filled with frog spawn, more than I've ever seen before.  If only half the frogs survive there'll still be thousands; I'll keep an eye out for that spectacle. 

Ultimatum

Well, what a read, the ultimates universe has been well and truly rocked.  Jeph Loebs writing is first class as is the beautiful artwork by David Finch.  The catalyst for the events that unfolded was the death of the Scarlet Witch by Doom, but not even Doom could have foreseen the consequences of his actions.  Sure, Doom wanted a war, he wanted the chaos and destruction as he wanted to have dominion over the remains, but this.  A jolly good read all round, with plenty of shocks, plenty of action and a very unexpected finale.

Kick ass

Just finished reading 'Kick Ass', another Millar triumph; really great story, funny, full of beautifully crafted comic references with insight and humor, lovely artwork by Romita Jr, an all round top shelf read.  The movie is due out in April and I'm soooo excited; if what I've seen in the trailer is anything to go by, the film hold quite true to the comic.  Can't wait :o)

Hay entrar tormentoso

Ober Dam

The Ober was formally Red Rise Brook, itself formally Mill Lawn Brook; by the time known as Ober Water it has widened in places and contains deep holes.  Today the water reflected the colours of the adjacent wet heathland; it was orange, turning brown where the waters deepened.  Along one bank, the edge of Aldridge Hill enclosure, one of the oldest enclosures dating from 1681, originally it was coppiced then re planted in 1809 at the time of the Napoleonic Wars when a lot of oak trees were being cut down to build warships. Along the other bank is wetland heath, dank and overflowing with water at this time of year; in some areas the ground although looking firm is in fact barely solid and crossing them is like walking on custard skin, a scary exercise. 

Castle Piece

Castle Piece is a moderately sized Hillfort in Roe Enclosure; or is it?  It is a banked enclosure with possibly a very shallow outer ditch, although its defencive capacity is doubtful. I know its been weathered and I know that later plantation works have been carried out; but still, taking that into account, the banks are slight as is the ditch, hardly defencive.  I wonder if the banks are more defining boundaries for a small settlement, with some defencive capabilities  although more to do with land tenure? I need to read up what I can on the site and take a longer more detailed look at the remains and their place in the landscape.

Gypsy Rose Tea

On my journeys through the forest I have regularly encountered discarded cook ware; tea pots, pans as well as the remains of leather shoes (usually the degenerated soles).  These finds are often off today's beaten tracks, the pots are usually crushed and appear to be 50 or so years old.  These finds have fascinated me; trying to workout what they represent.  Recently I found an answer; as often happens, several paths converged to illuminate the past.  It would appear that these apparently random finds represent a way of life once common place in the forest, now sadly marginalised, corrupted and outlawed.....Gypsies.  The forest was once well known for Gypsies, who frequently camped within its bounds.  Usually the pans or tea tops are crushed; why the pots are so frequently crushed is a mystery, maybe it was tradition or cultural.

Gypsies are a definable travelling group, first appearing in Britain during the reign of Henry the 8th as opposed to other groups such as, Irish travellers, New travellers, Eastern European Gypsies and other itinerants who appeared later.  Their name is derived from 'Egyptians' as that is where the Medieval Britons wrongly thought they came from.

Burley Old Enclosure

Backley Bottom

Today was one of those surprising walks, filled with the unexpected, unexpected because we were in an area visited regularly, but still managing to tread ground I've never trodden before, seeing aspects of the familiar anew and experiencing woodland I'd only known from a far. At Bratley Arch where the Black Water, here known as Bratley Water, leaves the uplands of its birth for the dense and diverse woodlands of the Central forest; up hill through Bratley enclosure (1829), it's maturing Oaks standing proud.  I'm beginning to be able to gauge the age of the enclosures and the trees much better now.  On a ridge overlooking Backley Bottom I think I may have found a World War 2 site; a group of trench features amongst the ferns, several oval depressions banked on one side and a standard slit trench; this site requires further investigation.   Now on Bratley plain, I visit an mound rising from the regular flat heathland, it's a Bronze Age burial mound, its heart robbed out by the antiquity hunters of the 18th and 19th centuries leaving a roughly cross shaped depression in the center.  We enter Slufter enclosure, slightly younger than Bratley, dating from 1862; I've never walked in this part of Slufters and it differs greatly from the major part, which had been replanted with Pine at some point, here the woods were mixed, Oak and Beech with the occasional Douglas rising majestically, gnarly Holly and Yew.  I will come this way again.

Moley

We passed the small yet tall stand of Eucalyptus trees at the site of Holm Hill cottage.  A mole or moles has been at work, tunnelling furiously they have left an abundance of earthy mounds; on one mound a long piece of clay pipe stem stands out, white against the earthy hues.  This got my attention and soon I was poking about through the protruding soil. There were the red fragments of housing brick and sandy slices of mortar both expected from a dwelling site; looking beyond them there is pottery sherds, bone fragments and  rusty nails.  All familiar on any post med to modern site.  I wonder how long there had been occupation on this site.  The woods are warm today.  Highland water sings as it travels, happily chattering as it flows over gravels and obstacles; it's joined by a myriad of birds all competing to be heard. Continuing through an area of young, oaks in the direction of Acre Down, it begins to snow!  Now, this snow was not fluffy flaked, rather tiny soft ball, like not properly formed hail; coming down quite fearously for a while, it began to cover the ground, before stopping abruptly.  By my return to Highland water the weather had turned full circle and a warm sun filled the sky.  I lay some small logs against a trunk build for comfort, gather a heap of ferns and create a comfy seat, from where I can see and hear the stream as well as being afforded a wide view of the surrounding woodland, a patchwork of blocks of coniferous and deciduous trees of varying ages.  I sit for a while, taking the air and tranquility. Nice.  

Grand slam

Near Ashley Cross a large mound raises out of the flat heathers, covered in gorse and shrubs, it is both impressive and yet unimposing; the buried remains of re-enforced concrete submarine pens built in World War Two. The pens were constructed to mimic the u boat bases along the Atlantic wall. The body of water in the foreground of the photo is a historic site itself; the first test drop of the 2200lb 'Grand Slam' bombs. The 2200lb 'Grand Slam' bombs were designed to target sites such as the pens, Ruhr valley sites and important rail bridges; the bombs were designed to bury themselves before exploding 'earthquake bombs'.

Broomy

The sun beamed through the 200 year old maturing Oaks of Broomy enclosure (1809), the bright rays are warming on the the skin, more used recently to an icy scouring. One could be forgiven for thinking spring had sprung; an illusion, regularly the sun disappeared, obscured by clouds, and the season was brought back in to stark focus. Winter still has dominion, waning, yes, but still has it all locked down. Above the tall Oaks, twisting and spreading the mass of crowns was alive with the furtive sounding song of birds enjoys the joys of the day. There's a mist hanging over the forest, giving an ethereal feel to the landscape. Approaching 'the churchyard', site of a medieval hunting lodge, the piercing cry of a bird of prey fills the air as it circles the ancient tree covered ridge, adding to the air of mystery.

Pancakes

Since I was a child, whenever I was suffering with a cold or such like I was given a hot whiskey with lemon and honey. Whilst enjoying my pancakes earlier, with a bit of lemon and sugar, followed by some honey covered ones, a plan dawned on me. So, mixing a little 12 year malt with the lemon juice and spreading honey on the pancake, I created the whiskey, lemon and honey pancake....and it was mighty fine.

Change is on the wind

Pinus

Two become one

Mill Lawn brook

We ventured out into the cold winter world, biting winds, which raced through and amongst the valleys and the hills carried on icy gusts, nipped at any exposed skin. Tramping the wet boggy valley bottoms which separate Ridley and Berry woods, the sun burst through the clouds to temporarily illuminate the oranges and browns of the heaters and last years ferns, all topped with crowns of skeletal trees which hug the hill tops, forming the ancient woods; the focus of the days ambling. We crossed Mill Lawn brook, not long after its formation in the damp fold of Ridley Bottom high on Ridley Plain. Ponies in their woolly winter cloths basked in the fleeting episodes of soft warm sunshine; the warmth only noticeable out of the wind, sheltered by woodland stands.

Roots man

Redrise brook

Todd

A Wizard, A True Star.

I've never been to the Hammersmith Apollo, venue of legend, of famed performances; it's old and the atmosphere feels intimate, compared to modern faceless venues, more people hangers than places to enjoy performances. I took my place, nice seat, great view and I waited; who was 'Todds Johnson' the support and would the show live up to my expectations; what was there to doubt! Todd was his own support; playing tunes by Robert Johnson, legendary R&B fellow; the set rocked and a few mishaps made it feel real and intimate.

Then the main event, Todds 'A Wizard, A True Star', in full, never toured before! The band, all bedecked in white tuxedos, Kasim Sulton, Prairie Prince and Jesse Gress were augmented by two keyboard players and a saxophonist; Todd appeared in a spacesuit for the opening number, it was to be one of several costume changes. What a buzz, I never imagined I'd ever witness the spectacle unfolding in front of me, one of my favourite albums,  released in 1973, my favourite artist, top shelf.  The band and Todd performed beyond anything I could have hoped for, lavishing us with musical gold; each member excelling, the sax player, the drums, the keyboards, bass and guitar, all giving a sublime rendition of well crafted tracks, and appearing to enjoy it.  All to soon it was nearing the end.  The band returned to the stage for the last track, 'just one victory', a track I have frequently drawn strength from; out of this world and to top it off, to top it off.....I ended up with Todds plectrum, thrown into the crowd.  Top night, special night; still smiling.

Wizard, what!

British Museum

A place I really should have visited before, the British museum.  Having been interested in archaeology for 25 years or more, you'd have thought I'd have been a regular visitor; but the city is not a natural habitat for me and I shy away from journeying there, although I really should visit more often.  The museum was filled with objects I'd seen a thousand times in books, on programmes; but in the real, in the real they shone.  We only had a couple of hours, after shopping in the mind blowing large Forbidden planet and HMV along with a plethora of smaller groovy record stores, all I managed to see were the British prehistory, Romano British and some of the Middle East.  Still, to see some of those beautifully crafted artifacts was inspiring, the detail, the quality of craftsmanship; outstanding.  I'm beginning to really sense that the past is calling to me to find it, at every turn I look about and there's archaeology giving me a hearty wave.

Imbolc

February