Heathland haircut

 

I've mentioned in the past how the forest is a far from natural environment requiring endless maintenance to preserve the status quo; a couple of weeks past, piles of young conifers, Scots pines, were testament to this continuous process; removed to conserve the open heathland environment. Today they were gone, evidence of their presence reduced to ash; the illusion of the timeless unchanging forest preserved in aspic is perpetuated. I imagine a couple of decades with no human interference would create a forest landscape unrecognisable to us; it wouldn't take long for woodland to encroach upon  and colonise the open heathland. Reminds you that, for the most part, woodland would be the dominant environment without out interference.

Mark Ash Wood

Mark Ash Wood

Murkwood

 A damp and murky morning on James's Hill.

Inner light

As is so often the way, the picture doesn’t capture what the eye does, or maybe what the minds eye does. This recently slighted and split young Scots Pine shone through Beech Beds enclosure, through the stands it's inner wood appeared to issue a golden luminescence; such a striking sight that on first spying it I was momentarily stopped in my tracks as my mind searched for an explanation. I don't know what caused it; maybe the light on the day was just right to cause an optical illusion or similar, or maybe it was something else, the forest is a magical place after all.

Frame Heath

Frame Heath

Purple Moor-grass

The torn grasses which last week storm Eunice chased across the heathland, now clog the puddles and seasonal ponds on the plains. The grass is Purple Moor-grass (Molinia caerulea) a native species common on wet acid soils like the New Forest; though I understand that due to changing climatic and environmental conditions the grass is now out performing and choking it's fellow heathland floral comrades, with the potential to change the nature of the heathland; that would explain it's abundance. Not good.

Fallen Yew

 

Just nature clearing out the dead wood said the woman chirpily as we stood looking at an ancient forest Yew (Taxus baccata) that had been uprooted by storm Eunice; yeah I thought, that's definitely a thing, although the damage we're seeing with increasing frequency throughout the forest is clearly way beyond that; take the ancient Yew in front of us, it was far from dead wood, nor were many of the trees I'd seen uprooted or truncated. I wondered if the woman told herself that as a mental salve.

Quiet time

The best thing about the A35 being closed is the tranquillity it brings to the surrounding countryside. I've sat here on the banks of Black Water below the A35 countless times over the years, it's a favoured spot; I've boiled up a brew, taken a picnic, meditated, or simply taken the opportunity to appreciate the woodland whilst being serenaded by the stream as it negotiates it's meandering course. Usually this spot is far enough from the road to muffle the sounds of traffic, but not far enough to negate it completely; today though for the first time, I had the opportunity to hear the forest's song as nature intended. Bliss.

A35

 

The A35 is the old Southampton/Exeter road, and remains a major east/west route through the New Forest and across southern England; usually busy it's an important and well used road. It's currently closed between Hinton to Rhinefield for the replacement of the Holmesley bridge. This morning we took the opportunity to saunter along the closed carriageway; the aesthetic reminded me of scenes from the Walking Dead.

Any old iron?

Well, any old tin really. A common sight in the forest, rusted through and crushed tin baths; I've seen innumerable examples over the years, along with pots, pans and kettles...always crushed. You'll commonly find them in amongst older trees in the open forest, not usually up in them though; and often in spots off todays' tracks. Evidence of past occupation, and archaeology of a bygone age. I always wonder if the crushing is part of some folk tradition or practice, otherwise what's the point; there are plenty of examples from the archaeological record of items being purposely crushed or broken before deposition or discard. 

After the storm

I'd not visited Burley Old since the storms; I've purposely avoided coming here as I knew what we'd be likely to find. I wasn't wrong, it was carnage. Limbs, boughs and branches of every size litter the woodland floor, amongst them in excess of 20 ancient and veteran trees either truncated or uprooted, along with numerous smaller trees. If you need an example of the accumulated damage wrought by a decade or more of increasing winds, both in regularity and severity, then take a wander through Burley Old. The face of the forest is changing. 

The Larch

Passing a small parcel of Larch I noticed well developed male flowers (strobili) and numerous small clumps of bright green juvenile needle like leaves just developing; a sure sign that Spring approaches. Thanks to episode 12b the Larch (Larix decidua) has always stuck in my memory.

Heather hideout

It was windy out in the forest again this morning, cold too, especially up on the exposed central plains. Crossing Handy Cross Plain we took the opportunity to escape the winds and rest for a moment in a small gravel pit long recolonised by heathland flora; much of the year it's bottom partially filled with water; often we'll stop here so Geoff can clean off or have a drink. The heather on Handy Cross Plain is well established, deep and thick, and when nestled into makes an effective windbreak and insulator, quiet too; I was surprised how comfortable it felt tucked up in nature; wonderful stuff heather, versatile too, with a wealth of uses. At first Geoff wasn't sure what I was up to, though when he realised I'd settled in, soon nuzzled in next to me in my heather hideout.

 

Douglas downed

Aw, what a bummer, man; sadly the mighty Douglas Fir that I featured in my post of the 6th of February has joined the hallowed ranks of the fallen. My heart sunk as I approached a familiar parcel of woodland and new immediately which tree had succumbed to Storm Eunice; what a shame. The once towering Fir's shattered and ripped trunk is evidence of the power of the elements; the forces involved in causing that sort of damage are something else; what must it have been like when it went; I'm sure it put up a heroic stand, defiant to the end.

Man down

 

A veteran Oak makes for an effective roadblock; with the A35 still closed for the Holmesley Bridge replacement, the addition of a blockage, no matter how temporary, will be a real pain in the arse. These are big trees which would take time to clear under normal circumstances, and I imagine there's a huge number to be cleared today; I'd seen several. The road here is quite narrow, with very soft verges, meaning I found myself needing to do an Austin Powers style turn before deciding on an alternative walk.

Windy out? #2

 

I know the worst of Storm Eunice's winds were in the South West, but could this lanyard really have blown here all the way from Cornwall? Dorothy's house was blown from Kansas to Oz, so I suppose it's possible.

Windy out?

 

Out of respect for Storm Eunice our walk this morning was purposely planned to avoid woodland, and when we did encounter any trees we ensured we passed on the wind facing side to avoid flying debris; good choices as out in the forest the wind was blowing a proper hooley; you've got to respect the elements. Walking was awkward; you had to push into the wind, all the time constantly buffeted about; then periodically the wind would drop momentarily and without the resistance posed by the wind you'd stumble forward. The blizzard of flying grass we encountered as we crossed the causeway through Holmhill Bog bottom gives a taste of today's walking conditions.

Fishlake, Romsey

I found myself in Romsey this morning with an hour and half to waste. Luckily the weather obliged with a clear sky, and even a bit of late winter sun; so I took the opportunity to explore Fishlake Meadows nature reserve. A substantial parcel of land tucked between the River Test and the Old Romsey Canal, it apparently until about 20 years ago or so was a farmed meadowland criss crossed with drains; since then though the land has been allowed to flood, and after countless generations of farming, it's been returned to it's original state as a wetland floodplain. And wow, after just 20 years the roll call of nature impressive; a habitat for dozens of native and migratory birds including the Osprey, a home to wetland mammals like the Water Vole and even Otter, 2 dozen Damsel and Dragonflies, and who knows how many plant species. It's interesting to imagine the nature of our countryside prior to human intervention, wetlands in river valleys would've been far more commonplace and expansive; in prehistory these environments were very popular, providing a huge and varied array of resources. A lovely wander, and 90 minutes well spent.

Ridley Wood

 

Ridley Wood in winter.

Now you see them...

Now you see them, soon you wont. When I've seen change in the forest I've often thought...'I should've taken a before shot'; this time I have. Walking up the gravelled forestry track through Roe enclosure from Greenford Bottom we periodically saw cleared and marked areas on the side of the track, cleared in preparation for harvested timber to be stacked; felling was about to take place, and this block of conifers in the Bratley Plain corner of Roe being freshly marked (notice the pink spots) are prime candidates. There are quite a number of deciduous trees within the block, and I imagine they'll survive the cull, creating a nice block of open woodland.

1838

In Berry Wood two pieces of historical graffiti on an ancient beech tree; 1838 (I'm really not sure what characters are carved before it), with the Admiralty mark of an arrow to one side. I wonder what the forest of 1838 was like; 1838 sits square in the middle of the forest's enclosure (1808-1870), when areas historically heathland were being planted with blocks Beech and Oak by the Royal Navy for ship building; a sparsely populated area, it must have been quite a wild and desolate place this time of year. The Admiralty mark is an interesting one; you usually see these arrows on trees within the enclosures, Berry Wood is open unenclosed woodland; I'm sure there must be more outside the enclosure bounds, though searching my memory I don't recall an instance.

Collapse

There's been a collapse in the woodland housing market; the Burley Old 'long house' is no longer habitable. At first glance I thought somebody had wrecked the woodland shelter on purpose, though as I got closer I noticed the trunk which formed the shelter's ridge was considerably closer to the ground; the trunk used to be wedged against the branch of another tree, although that's now broken which would have caused the explosive collapse. I wonder if somebody will rebuild the shelter, or maybe reuse the wood in another woodland creation?

Dames Slough drain

It's not only the forest streams that have been restored to something like their pre-Victorian courses, the project has also included some of the larger drains, themselves originally small brooks and tributaries. Through Dames Slough enclosure, below Dames Slough Hill, what was another near straight drain now meanders gently between the stands as it would've 200 years ago...or maybe it was open wet heath back then? As a consequence, and like other restored forest watercourses, the trees in the direct environs are having to adjust to a much wetter environment; as with the other sites, some oak and beech handle it better than others, although eventually most, if not all, will drown, to be replaced by carr woodland species.

Frame Heath

This morning, long before we could see the smoke or caught a glimpse of the fire through the stands, we caught the scent of wood smoke carried on the wind. They're clearing and landscaping pockets of Frame Heath Enclosure, it looks like they're restoring the landscape to open wet heathland, as it would've been nearly 200 years ago pre forestry activities. When established these heathland pockets added to the deciduous and coniferous mosaic create wonderful niche environments for flora and fauna to flourish; they also enrich your woodland walking experience offering you opportunities to spot wildlife you may have otherwise missed; the smaller pockets have an air of magical grove to them too...which is nice.

And another one gone

Another ancient old lady takes her final bow; out gunned by the elements, undermined by the consequences of modernity, she joins the ranks of the fallen. It never ceases to amaze me that although extensive, the roots of these mighty leviathans appear so insubstantial compared with the enormity they support.

Mill Lawn Brook

 Ridley Bottom, where Mill Lawn Brook begins.

Douglas

My favourite non native tree species found in the forest is the majestic North American Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii). The oldest in Douglas Firs in the forest date from around the middle of the 1800's, and if they're lucky they'll still be here in another 400 years or more; that said, I don't know whether they'll reach their full potential in size or age outside their native region. They're impressive trees, their crowns often standing proud of the surrounding canopy, a thick gnarly russet hued outer bark hides a fibrous red/orange hued inner bark, wounds yield good quantities of heavily scented resin which has medicinal uses, and can be used as incense too. The most notable group of Douglas Firs in the forest create the impressive focus of  Rhinefield's Ornamental Drive, though many others can be found alone or in various sized groups throughout the forest.

Natural arch

Natural art or natural arch; both or neither. What are the chances of three trees interacting like this? Which poses the question did they? They certainly looked a natural happening, though I was so busy thinking 'hey cool' that I may have been had; looking at the photo now, I'm questioning it's natural authenticity. Not that it matters really, it's cool either way.

Anarchy in the New Forest

Anarchy roughly means 'having no ruler', and by no means has to denote a state chaos, death and destruction; I think our scribe here has misunderstood. I know the Sex Pistols wanted 'to destroy passers by', but this isn't an interpretation of anarchy I'd endorse.

Dames Slough

 Dames Slough.

Imbolc

Is it me or has the wheel begun to turn faster? It certainly seems so. Ramsons flowering now!, the leaves regularly begin appearing in January or February, though the flowers don't usually appear until early May. In nature strangeness abounds as a see-saw climate plays trickster. Anyway. The days are getting longer and our new sun born at winter solstice grows in strength; the earth's warming, the first green shoots of spring are emerging and the birds sing of new beginnings. A time to prepare, it wont be too long before all the sleeping seeds awake. Imbolc blessings to all.

And breath

Our walk through the forest was undertaken at a fair pace; we completed 5.3 miles in 79 minutes; not bad eh. We took the all weather forestry track from Wood's Corner through the broad leaf and conifer mosaic of South and North Oakley enclosures, which finishes 4 miles later atop Mogshade Hill; although we only made it as far as Smokey Hole before turning back on ourselves. But for the chatter of birds high in the canopy the forest was all very quiet and still; walking was proper meditation this morning. A reliable walking surface allowed me to work on my breathing; practising what I'd describe as my version of box breathing on the flat, breathing through my nose, inhale 3, hold 2, exhale 3, hold 2 (more like rectangle breathing), and inhaling through my nose and out through pursed lips on the climbs; all the time trying to maintain a calm relaxed posture whilst sustaining reasonable cadence. I found myself a good rhythm; legs and breath working in harmony. A good walk.

Ice wings

 

The puddles which pock the tracks that cross Bratley Plain looked as if dozens of pairs of huge insect wings had been discarded in them. Cool.

Broken

The broken disarticulated parts of a storm damaged beech lay jumbled and heaped around it's trunk in South Oakley; this ancient beech, I'd suggest easily old enough to pre-date the enclosure of this land in 1853, has succumbed to the ferocity of the elements. I notice from the perspective of the photo that it's hard to gauge scale, giving the tree the impression of appearing much smaller than it is; that horizontal branch is actually about 2.5m or so from the ground. I wonder if she'll struggle on? Many do; I know it's been well and truly slighted, but several smaller lower branches, like the horizontal one, remain unharmed and viable; I've seen trees come back from worse.

Foulford Bottom

Foulford Bottom, not the most inviting of names, though from Picket Post what a smashing view down through and out over the western most edge of the forest; a view over the fertile Avon Valley and into Dorset beyond. Picket Plain is the gateway to the high ground which divides the forest; a high ground of connected open plains (Picket, Ridley, Handy Cross, Backley, Bratley, Broomy, Ocknell, Janesmoor, Stoney Cross), edges riven with damp shallow valleys, and ringed by large tracts of ancient and enclosed woodland.  It's lovely walking up here on a fine day like today, with expansive views in all directions; although it's an exposed and unforgiving landscape in poor conditions. 

Gorse

Due to the overlapping cycles of Common Gorse (Ulex europaeus), Dwarf Gorse (Ulex minor) and Western Gorse (Ulex gallii) there's not one day a year that gorse isn't in flower somewhere in the forest.

Roe

 Roe Enclosure

Hardwood extraction

Hardwood extraction and thinning in South Oakley enclosure (1853); the nearly 170 year old beech and oak trees are cropped, trimmed, graded, stacked or laid out. Really a large part of the New Forest is a tree farm, and has been for hundreds of years (that's what the enclosures are all about); South Oakley here was created on a landscape of open heath and scattered clumps of ancient unenclosed woodland, the remnants of which are represented by scattered ancient pollarded trees; pollarding was banned 1698 to ensure timber for the Navy; admiralty arrows are the most common mark/graffiti found on forest trees. I like the foresight of planting a crop not to be harvested for generations; that's belief in humanities persistence that is. 

Blackensford Brook

 

At this point Blackensford Brook is little over a mile in length, still in it's infancy as it flows through North Oakley, it'll shortly be joined by Bratley Water and soon after that become Black Water. Away from easy access people are sparse, I'd say that this is one of the quietest part of the forest, you'll rarely see folk beyond the gravelled track; diverge from that and you have the stands to yourself. A lovely place to spend some time. I thought another black and white take on the forest this morning would be apt; the colour's already been drained from a naked landscape; the light's been consistently flat favouring black and white; and the overall palette of our times is definitely on the grey scale. 

Rowbarrow pond

Reflections at Rowbarrow.