Battered Bramble Hill

When slighted by the elements, many of the forest's trees simply fall to the ground, making the stand against time and the elements from there, whilst others are more obstinate, forming dramatic shapes amongst the stands, determined not to be completely humbled. I love these trees for their defiance, their outlines add something to the stands, they're natural sculptures expressing the eternal elemental struggle, rallying the other trees to hold fast. 

Snowdrops

Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis), natures way of telling us Spring's coming.

Straight drain

Although many of the larger drains have been remodelled, or their depth greatly reduced, there are still plenty of straight drains in the forest. Saying that, you sometimes wouldn't think so what with the forest as wet as it is.

1850 graffiti?

This looks remarkably like 1850 carved into the tree, although of course, the tree is scared at the crucial point. Though looking at it closely, and feeling it, I am more convinced than not, that it is. That said, the beech canvas is not that big, though the letters have stretched, and their style and execution are old school, I've also seen old graffiti on young looking trees. There are so many variables, man, you'd be surprised. You can only really date wholly legible pieces. I'm still going with it being an earlier example of forest graffiti. I have to wonder how many of these older pieces were lost through earlier timber harvesting. 

Commoners' Passage

The forest can be a challenging landscape to navigate in the winter.  The plains, whether high or low, are for the most part waterlogged, and the hidden boggy hollows of this undulating world are thoroughly sodden. It's easy for your walk to turn into an arduous soggy trudge. The forest would be impassible without track-ways like 'Commoners' Passage', which would have been serving locals and travellers for centuries. It says on a commemorative plaque the track was restored in 2004 (you'd not have known), it just shows how such passages weather, as although the short causeway over the bog remains in fair condition, the track itself has been heavily degraded in places by countless walkers, riders, cyclists and ponies. On the ridge above, a well preserved, though robbed out, Bronze Age Round Barrow is testament to the history of human activity in the area, and the sanctity of these isolated wet places to our ancestors.  

Frogger

Checking past posts recording when I've first see frog spawn, they've all been between 28th of January and 4th of February. That's quite a tight grouping. I always think it's too early, with the chance of devastating frosts still too high. But hey, what do I know, frogs have been about since at least the Paleocene (66 million years ago), so they must know what they're doing.

Deer Geoff

Dear Geoff, he's a good boy. Well, he was a good boy, until the deer, who'd been blissfully unaware of our presence, became acutely aware of our presence and done a runner.  Geoff triggered an instinctive response in the deer, and they in turn triggered an instinctive response in him, though in was good to see Geoff's learning quickly, abandoning his somewhat lacklustre pursuit, returning at my call. We'd been there a while too, Geoff just sitting a watching. Unexpected meetings and moments like this in the forest are priceless.

Imbolc song in Bratley Wood

The high crowns of the ancient and veteran oak and beech of Bratley Wood were alive with song this morning, as the assembled birds celebrated Imbolc, and heralded Spring's approach...they feel the subtlety of the seasons more keenly than we do. As the young sun grows and the soil warms, out in the forest the seeds and embryonic buds of potential begin to swell, closer to home, our hopes and dreams for this turn of the wheel are awakening. Imbloc blessing y'all. /|\

(I neglected to focus the camera, so the picture's not all that, but it's really for the bird song I posted.)

Brexit's sunlit uplands

Turns out that the contractor delivering Brexit's sunlit uplands, may be the same one who brought us the 2008 Lapland-style theme park in the New Forest...similar M O.  Rule Britannia, and all that.

Great Huntley

Great Huntley Bank

Early Spring clean

You'd be surprised at how quickly the forest's streams will rise and fall.  Really the whole forest is a huge water catchment, draining into a handful of streams, and after rain falling on already sodden ground, the volumes of water draining are significant. Highland Water is one of the three streams which, through it's myriad tributaries, drains the forest's centre. Although this morning the stream had receded to gently flowing levels, evidence of a more substantial bore was clear through Highland Water's course, sections of the stream's immediate environs were scoured clean of debris and detritus. It would have taken quite a rise in water levels to have cleared some of the areas cleared. And, you know, even after all that draining, the forest is still like walking on a soggy sponge. Still beautiful though. 

Grace under pressure.

Over the last 10/15 years the forest has become noticeably busier. I can remember when on a weekday most parking spots would have been empty and you could go for days, or even weeks, without seeing other walkers whilst out. Both those things are a rarity now (unless you walk off piste, so to speak); it's the marketing of the forest over the last few years which is responsible. I was chatting with a ranger and they remarked that government had encouraged the National Parks Authority to increase usage to promote health and well being, and this was putting pressure National Parks Authority and the forest, and both were struggling. More footfall means more wear and tear, more maintenance of all sorts. Which maybe ties into another thing noticeable about the forest over the last decade or so, that's a subtle reduction in accessibility. I've seen several small bridges removed rather than replaced, and countless gates and stiles disappear, reducing routes across the landscape and forcing more feet onto fewer tracks. The National Parks Authority just hasn't got the resources to maintain everything, it's another example of the government trying to get something for nothing, rinsing a natural resource to make them look like they're doing something. I can't help but wonder (and worry, if I'm honest) how the forest will cope with ever increasing visitors numbers, coupled with under funding from government and the removal of the EU grants which helped fund many of the National Park's projects.

Ramsons

This years Ramson's (Allium ursinum) are beginning to come through on cue, nice to see, though it'll be a while yet until they're carpeting the woodland floors. A wood of flowering Ramson's is a wonderful sight, properly magical in the right light, as well as being a tasty and versatile wild food. Don't use too much though, it's powerful stuff. I had to throw a soup away one time, it was just sooooo garlicky, that it was inedible... and I'm a fan of garlic. 

Harvest Slade Bottom

Harvest Slade Bottom, a wetland valley and one of the headwaters of Mill Lawn Brook. Just one of the forests many hidden spots which has an eerie isolated beauty to it. You can understand why in the past landscapes like the forest’s were viewed as scary places filled with dangers, real and imagined, mythical beasts and strange unnatural forces. Today the hollow was nice, very still, with a certain peaceful tranquillity to it, though when shrouded and muffled by thick mists or in the midst of a storm these places will stir your primal fears...no matter how much you deny them. 

Moon Knight 'Lunatic'

What's Khonshu up to? Has Marc Spector lost his mind...again? Master writer Jeff Lemire puts the Moon Knight through the mangle, reuniting him with friends, and taking the character on a nightmare journey through his various persona’s and the fractured worlds of his mind and of Khonshu's creation, where what's real and what's fantasy merge, putting his life and sanity on the line. Greg Smallwood's lines do Lemire's words justice and as always Jordie Bellaire's colours are the cherry on top of the glorious cake. Lunatic is great reading. If you like Moon Knight then you'll love this, more so if you're versed in his history as there are character references that go well back, if you don't know the character or his background then this might be a touch confusing...though, maybe not, I'm lending my copy to a friend to read who hasn't read Moon Knight before, so I'll find out.

Slimey slopes

The deciduously wooded slopes of Holmhill enclosure are some of the wettest, slimiest and sloppiest slopes in the forest, even through the drier months it's slippery under foot in places, so you can imagine what they're like at the moment. Always damp, the trunks and fallen boughs are all clothed in vibrant green moss. The contrast between moss clad wood and the expansive carpet of russet coloured leaf litter in which they stand is quite contrasting. 

Enchanted woodland

Burley Old, an enchanted woodland.

St Catherine's Hill graffiti

The reservoirs atop St Catherine's Hill have long been canvases for local graffiti artist, with most faces adorned by pieces, words or tags...some nice works too. Periodically the faces are repainted by the authorities, which merely serves to create a fresh canvas, sometimes older pieces are overwritten by new ones. There are a couple of new works on the round reservoir since last we walked up here, good stuff.  I noticed one piece was by 'Camo'(top), the same artist whose work we saw in the forest underpass, a 70's flavoured offering, very tidy. There were a couple of others as well, one used silver paint to great affect, the other had a sort of Terry Gilliam-ness to it. I love to see public art, we should celebrate art more, including graffiti, it has so much value, it adds colour and energy to our too often drab man made environments and edifices.

Mogshade Hill

Adjacent to Mogshade pond is a small cluster of trees holding claim to hill's open summit, they show incredible tenacity and fortitude in their tenure, standing firm on what must be the most exposed hilltop in the forest. Time and the elements are against them though, weathered, battered and broken, they show the visible scars of countless elemental duels. Mogshade Hill has exceptional views, it's the perfect place to breath in the forest...and the pond is handy for washing your muddy hounds too.  

Woolsmoor Meads

Woolsmoor Meads this morning.

Black Water ford

You'd be surprised at how high Black Water has risen, I know I was. Of course I'd expected to get wet, earlier I'd been shin deep crossing Ober Water, though when I found myself less than a quarter of the way through and already thigh deep, with Geoff on his lead, swimming next to me, I realised I was literally getting out of my depth. It would have been unnecessary folly to have continued, and one of the prime directives of survival is no unnecessary folly.

Island hopping

Island hopping in the forest this morning.

The illustrated tree

An objective of our walk this morning was to visit that venerable old fellow of the forest, the illustrated tree. Still standing proud, if not weather worn and battle torn, this gnarled and withered old oak, with it's fabulously patterned boughs and trunk, never fails to enthral. Well met, sir.

Graffiti by Camo

It's always nice discovering art unexpectedly. Out here in the forest too, there's an added something. A pleasantly jarring juxtaposition between strikingly coloured graffiti set in a modernist concrete underpass which stands isolated, a piece of urban furniture abandoned in nature.  I love things like that. Some of the fresh graffiti in the Lazy Bushes underpass. Nice.

View from the hermitage

The Hermitage has been a feature here in Burly Old for as long as I remember. The interior of this beehive mound of fallen boughs, branches and assorted woodland debris is just big enough for one person sit (hence the name), once in it's reasonably comfortable, although your view of the stands is somewhat limited. I often wonder what it would be like to spend a night here...weird, I imagine.

First full moon of the year

The first full moon of this turn of the wheel.

Coniferous Wilverley

Out in the forest it's that time of year when if you need a hit of green foliage you've got to find yourself some coniferous stands. The juxtaposition between the open, exposed and bare deciduous stands, and the closed and close nature of coniferous woodland is stark. Two completely different world, even more so with the sun streaming through the canopy. It was lovely to disappear into the green world this morning, over it's soft mossy floor, we moved between cool dark shady halls of young conifers and open pockets of tall straight mature pine bathed in light. It was like stepping into another time, or suddenly finding yourself somewhere else, the only tell that gave away the season were seas of russet bracken, beyond that it could have been any time. The air was nice too, clean and fragrant. You can't beat a serving winter greens. 

Forest magic

Forest magic.

The naked forest

The naked forest brings to mind the fairy tale forests of childhood tales, those often imagined as existing in a state perpetual wintry emptiness, with a sense of things unseen. Some days these stands are imbued with a magic even more potent and tangible than usual, today was one of those days.

Winter beach

Considering the coast is at the end of the road, 10 minutes walk away, we don't walk there as much as you'd imagine. We should really, it's lovely walking, with great views. It's funny how you can overlook what's right under your nose.

Soarley Beeches

Soarley Beeches

Coneygeer Bottom

We found smoke filled stands when we arrived in the forest this morning. Forestry work never stops, you'd be surprised how much effort it takes to keep the forest looking postcard proper. The reality of the forest is that much of it is far from natural. I'm not sure what's going on here, although I think they're returning the land here to heathland...they don't usually go to such great lengths clearing and grading the land surface when preparing to replant. I could be wrong, time'll tell. Those fires will smoulder and smoke for days, today their wood-smoke smell would stay in my nostrils throughout our walk.

DDT 'Enter the Bend'

Cor blimey! This is really good, man. The fruit of a mind meld between members of psychedelic big hitters Carlton Melton and White Manna, 'Enter The Bend' by DDT (Dieter, Duvall and Taibi) is bloody marvellous! Enter the Bend is all rich organic flavours, heavy with psychedelic drones, deeply hypnotic shamanic trancey rhythms, with myriad streams of trippiness intricately woven  throughout, earthy as f*ck too. Enter the Bend picks you up and carries you off, time dissipates as you immerse yourself in the aural world DDT have crafted for our listening pleasure, the musicianship of all involved is, of course, top shelf. And, when the needle finally runs out of groove, you're left wanting more. I played it through four times in a row on receipt, and with each play I was drawn in further. It's a meditation, man. It's a quality pressing too, the vinyl comes in either a groovy splatter of ‘Multiple Greens’ (named after one of the tracks on the album) or classic black, all packaged in a sturdy sleeve and with a colour insert. Enter the Bend is surely one of the best releases of the year, check it out, it doesn't disappoint. This is the good shit, and no mistake!

Tree throw mysteries

Unexpected things you see in tree throws...a watering can. I wonder how that got there? Forestry works, or travelling folk maybe, wartime military even, there's a cluster of American World War 2 graffiti in Burley Old. Thinking about it, everything beyond soil and roots in a tree throw is unexpected really. 

Inundation

The forest's lower lying stands and open heath are inundated at the moment, the ground is sodden, saturated, every hollow, depression and channel is water filled, in fact there are areas of standing water throughout.  And as for the leafy woodland floor, well, that can not be trusted to have any substance. It took less than 10 minutes walking for my boots to become thoroughly waterlogged, after which point I found myself strangely liberated, being able to wander about this wet wonderland without a care, at one point, I even ended up thigh deep (shorts rolled up) navigating a submerged area of woodland. When the forest environment's like this it makes for interesting walking, and you'd be a fool not to take full advantage.

Christmas walk

The forest was really quiet this morning, near empty as everybody was busy cooking their Christmas dinner, not me, years ago we opted to go European and do the Christmas meal thing on Christmas eve, man, it makes Christmas day so much cooler. So I had Burley Old enclosure to myself, and as always, it was magnificent and majestic, the epitome of an English forest. A perfect place to sit a while and melt into nature.

Winter Solstice sunrise

Geoff and I set out in the dark this morning in order to reach a good vantage point to see the Winter Solstice sun rise. Our chosen spot was Holm Hill on the edge of Wilverley Plain with good clear views eastwards. Holm Hill's a nice vantage point on the edge of a promontory of higher heathland plain surrounded by on three sides by low bogland (Duck Hole, Crab Tree and Holm Hill), which I feel gives it an added something, our ancestors favoured wetland, and it's adjacent dry land. Sound carries in the early morning forest, I could hear walkers chatting on a track-way across Holm Hill Bog, and for a moment I was cowed from running through some Awen's, then I thought...what the hey.  As the sun rose I chanted, I beathed in the fresh clean morning air and it felt good. What a glorious sunrise, clear enough to see the sun itself rise above the horizon, though with enough cloud to make the sky interesting. And the light, man, the gorgeous orange hued morning light, it bathed the sparse stands and open heathland in gold. A cycle ends, a cycle begins, lets hope this one is better than the last, which, for me at least, was utterly shite. Solstice Blessings y'all.

Solstice Blessings

At Yule the Holly kings' reign is done; whilst the Oak kings' reign is just begun.
Longest night yields us longer days; the Sun reborn travels back our way.
Gather round with family and friends; now to celebrate that darkness ends.
In our hearts and beneath our feet; the seeds of futures dreams await.
Our march to spring is just begun; wassail to y'all 'till journey's done. 

Solstice blessing...flags, flax, fodder and frigg to y'all beautiful people /|\

Creek Bottom

What a difference a day makes. Normal service has been resumed.

Duck Hole

Heading towards Duck Hole Bog this morning, and to paraphrase Eric Olthwaite, ''Forest's wet today Mother, aye, very wet, even the dry bits are wet'', the forest is that wet. Still, it was glorious walking though, and a treat to walk under (nearly) blue skies.