Eyeworth Pond

 

Tucked away, hidden at the head of a wooded valley Eyeworth Pond was created in the late 19th century in order to supply the nearby gunpowder factory by damming one of the the upper tributaries of Latchmore Brook; until 1921 the factory here produced smokeless gunpowder, and at the height of it's success it employed 100 people. Though it wasn't the first industry in this locale, nor possibly the largest; under the Romans this part of the forest was a major centre of pottery production in the 3rd century AD, running numerous large kilns. It's hard to imagine bustling industries here in the tranquillity of the deep forest. 

The Rookery

On old maps this corner of Cumber enclosure is marked 'The Rookery'; a name which I reckon pre-dates the present enclosed plantation of 1843, and could be associated with nearby Rhinefeild House.  Although the current Rhinefeild house (a 4* hotel) only dates from the late 19th century, the site has been lived on in one form or other since the 11th century. That's the value of old maps, they hold forgotten histories and hints to previous land use; the name 'The Rookery' is missing from contemporary OS Maps, and with it that nod to history.

Rare fruit

Apples from three of the Commons' apple trees; the others were either barren or the few fruits they had were inaccessible. On the whole it's been a pitiful year for apples over the Common; and not just over the Common, neighbours with cookers say their fruits are fewer and smaller. It started well enough, with plenty of blossom, though it has come to nought, a very thin harvest indeed. Shame. And no, they hadn't be scrumped already, I was point and had to wade through dense bracken, bramble and nettle to reach these trees. That said, it was worth it even for a few fruits; the Commons' apples, although not huge, and sometimes slightly thicker skinned, are very tasty nonetheless.  Heritage varieties do you think? I do.

Luxury beliefs

We're increasingly told via the media that we're a society wracked with anxiety brought about by our existential climate crisis and accompanying breakdown. I'm sure that many experience anxiety, and that many find themselves on a sliding scale of concern, then there's magnitudes more for who, for the most part, pay lip service to the virtuous thing to say. Cynical, moi? Well, riddle me this, 52% of Britons will be taking a holiday this year, out of which a staggering 42% intend to travel internationally.  You know, I got to thinking if you were to represent those who claim to be anxious/worried about the climate and those holidaying abroad in a Venn diagram I'd wager a good majority would appear in the overlapping group. Is that luxury beliefs or cognitive dissonance? Don't misunderstand me, I'm not singling people out, it's just they're a really good example of 'us' as a whole; we're the Achilles' heel(s) of climate mitigation, as it's easy to support agendas and policies in abstract, although support often melts away when our virtuous beliefs collide with the realities of necessity or desire. Explains where all the people have been. It's been noticeable that even on good days the forest and beach have been far emptier than you'd normally expect them to be, the roads too; it being summer and all. That, and 48% of the population won't be taking a holiday; and I imagine that if we added this group to our Venn diagram they'd neither be holidaying nor putting climate change high on their list of concerns (not saying it's not there); sea levels rising 'over there' mean little to those already struggling to keep their heads above water over here. Ah, the times they aren't a-changin' (no it a good way at least), mostly because we ain't learnin', eh. It's no wonder we're so far away from genuine systemic change. 

Not this morning

 

Oh huzzah, yet another wet and overcast summer day in the woods; not even this Common Stinkhorn (Phallus impudicus) could be bothered to rise to the occasion, not this morning. That said, of course it's nice out in the forest at any time; it's just I was quite looking forward to a summer. 

Ooh!

The Ooh tree; the best tree face I've seen in ages.

Malus

Out in the forest it's been a very good year for Crab Apples (Malus sylvestris) many of the trees are hanging with fruit. 

Think

I've observed over the last couple of years that open or not properly closed gates have become a growing phenomena; to the point that we come across at least one on nearly every walk. On the whole I don't think this is malice or wilful ignorance, more inadequate understanding of the environment born of a lack of socialization to the countryside. That said, surely closing a gate isn't rocket science; some of those gates, like this one above, open on to forest roads.  

Alderhill

 

Alderhill Enclosure

Bracken

 

The Commons' bracken has been humbled by the recent rains, battered down from well above head height to somewhere just above the waist. Bracken had many wide ranging traditional uses, and in past communities it was a much valued resource; although today due to it's highly invasive nature it's seen more as a threat to biodiversity. You can see why too. I can't think of an environment in which it doesn't appear to flourish, it's been suggested that bracken covers 1.6% of the UK.

An orange spot

Many of the forest stands are marked for change, the 'orange spot' identifying a tree for felling, and there's a hell of a lot of spotted trunks about; all over the forest too. It's the conifers which are going, the cash crop, money trees; some whole blocks are to be clear cut, others to be thinned as well as any coniferous invaders removed from adjacent deciduous blocks. I don't know what the forestry have got planned for the clear cut blocks, replanting or restoration to open heath maybe; the deciduous blocks though, I'm looking forward to seeing them opened up.

Out of time

I'm seeing mushrooms I'd not normally expect to encounter until mid/late September; for example these Hedgehog mushrooms (Hydnum repandum), which  look like they've already been up for a week or so. Out in the woods expectation clashes with reality, I'm expecting to find summer though all my senses tell me it's autumn out here. And why wouldn't they. 

 

We've just experienced the 6th wettest July on record, though our sensationalist media, fixated with the extremes of climate change, the flames and floods, have said very little (as far as I know). I'm not suggesting that extreme weather episodes aren't important or newsworthy, nor that we wont be effected by the consequences of extreme weather, though I don't think they'll define 'our' climate change experience. No, ours, extreme episodes aside, is going to manifest in systemic change to environments and ecosystems, brought on by an increase in periods of unseasonal weather and the weakening of fixed seasons; wet when it should be dry, warm when it should be cold and vice versa. The impact on our insect, floral and faunal communities both wild and domesticated cannot be underestimated, nor can the impact on the natural cycles they are we rely upon. I think the media are missing an opportunity to bring everyday climate change at home into focus. Moreover, media silence has created a vacuum quickly and easily filled by mocking climate deniers plying their superficially compelling (under the circumstances) 'climate change, puh' narrative. Silly really.

Dapper fallow

Wandering Red Rise Hill, a young looking Fallow Deer stag (Dama dama), 2 or 3 years old I reckon, looks immaculate, a  proper dapper fallow; did you know each deer has a unique pattern of spots. Cool, eh. 

Lughnasadh

Lughnasadh blessings /|\

Seasonality

I could've easily collected enough Ceps (Boletus edulis) for a good meal on our walk this morning. I didn't though. I don't feel right collecting resources out of their season; I'm quite married to the notion of our seasonal wheel. To pinch a biblical line 'there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity'.  Though I'm concidering whether I may have to reassess that position if the seasons shift proper.

All change

The first 2 miles of our walk this morning was undertaken in glorious sunshine, the following 12 miles were not. Quite the dramatic change of conditions, although the walking remain consistently good throughout, unseasonal weather aside. The first shot is along the main track through Broomy enclosure and the second is over Rakes Brakes Bottom and Dockens Water from Fritham Plain.

Debris

 

Squirrels (Sciurus carolinensis) have been busy.

Blackensford Brook

 

The forest is always full of surprises, take Blackensford Brook here flowing like this during the summer. Not a common sight.

Bufo bufo

 

I disturbed two healthy looking Common Toads (Bufo bufo) whilst moving some membrane on the lotty this afternoon. The membrane had been folded over a couple of times as I'd opened up the bed and the toads were holed up in the folds. The toad pictured was by far the largest of the two, so I'm going to say she was the female of the pair. Toads are always welcome on the plot, the damage control service they provide is invaluable, the slug empire will be defeated. Though I have to say I've seen few slugs or snails about this year; I wonder why that is? Surely toads can't have eaten them all.

The Gatekeeper

 

They say the Gatekeepers' habitat is grass and scrub, so I was chuffed to see them in our garden, as grassy scrub land was the aesthetic we were going for. There's a lot of them too. No doubt attracted by our healthy and numerous clumps marjoram, one of the Gatekeepers' favourite sources of nectar.

Beefsteak

Add Beefsteak mushroom (Fistulina hepatica) to the list of mushrooms out and about.

Welcomed rain

 

The recent rains have given even the smallest of the forest streams their voices back, and the brooks are back to babbling their song as they pass. The forest has enjoyed the rain, looking lush and verdant for it.

Cobnuts

 

The year before last I pollarded (after a fashion) our 10 year old Cob Hazel (Corylus). I'd imagined it would've taken a few years before the tree produced nuts again. I was mistaken. I've spied quite a few good sized nuts so far.

Oysters

Nice find.  An extensive spread of fresh young button Oyster mushroom (Pleurotus ostreatus) clumps on a fallen beech in Mark Ash Wood. The rains have really brought the forests' fungi to life. I've now seen Oyster, Summer Cep, Chanterelle, a variety of Russula and Puffball, and plenty of others whose identities are unknown to me. The forest continues to riff on that autumn vibe. 

Heart of the forest

At the heart of the forest are it's streams, and the heart of those streams are the springs, spreads and collects that feed them.

Black Water

 

Black Water above Gravelly Ford.

Bolete

 

I've seen a few Summer Boletes (Boletus reticulatus) about.

Cone resin

Of late I've seen several of the forests' Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) cones oozing sticky fragrant resin, not just the cones either, their needle like leaves too. As well as being a highly prized and versatile timber with wide ranging use, and its needles making a renowned healing tea, the resin of the Douglas can also be used as an antiseptic to treat wounds, chewed as a gum, or used to treat coughs, colds and sore throats. I just love the smell of it. 

Autumn calling

I can't be the only one feeling it? As if Autumn is here. I know it's July but all my senses are questioning whether it's not autumn already?  Of course I know it can't be, but the forest is doing a bloody good impression. The smells, the sounds, the colour palette, the atmosphere amongst the stands, all suggest that transitional phase between late summer and autumn. It's probably an illusion created by the weather we've been experiencing; though I've long suggested that spring and autumn are extending their ranges, whilst summer and winter are contracted theirs into shorter seasons.

Warwickslade

Once the straightest of straight Victorian forestry drains Warwickslade Cutting was restored to a meandering course back in the noughties, and now both stream and environs are re-established.

Natural engineering

On the floor amongst the stands on the edge of Red Rise, a beautiful small nest probably dislodged by the recent strong winds. A simple combination of horse hair and moss fettled so masterfully as to produce a structure light and strong, insulated and protective, Just perfect for its purpose. Mother nature at her best.

Brinken

It was lovely reconnecting with Brinken Wood this morning. Brinken used to be a regular haunt of ours until the New Forest National Parks Authority closed the lay-by which had always allowed us direct access. Since then we've only skirted it's edge on some of our longer walks, but not had the opportunity to wander its familiar stands as we had. Silly really, it's just that we'd always used that lay-by. There are other ways to access Brinken which only involve short walks.

bee

It's been nice seeing the bees and ting enjoying our garden after what has so far been a rather insect free summer, year in fact. In particular our Lavender (Lavandula) are buzzing with activity, as dozens of frantically probing Bumble Bees (and other bees) winkle out flowery goodness; in the garden in general there's been a noticeable upturn in airborne activity, all sorts. As yet not to the levels one would expect normally though. Still cool.

Ober

Ober Water below Markway Bridge early this morning.

Burley Old

Smell the wet woodland. 

Peak green

With many of it's paths disappearing under a sea of towering growth the Common's reaching peak green.

Quick change

 

We followed this same route through the stands yesterday morning when we walked easily across exposed gravel stream bed; all change this morning though, recent rain saw Black Water posing an obstacle again. Not an insurmountable one though, as a few gravel patches remained.  But still, what a transformation.  

Narrative shmarrative.

 

It's horrible seeing our natural world so stressed, struggling under the pressures of rampant abuses and accelerating erratic change. I've always felt a deep connection to nature. I've been an environmentalist all my adult life, an activist on many occasions too, and grasp the reality of the magnitude of the crises facing us; because lets be honest the climate crisis isn't the end of the world, the world has survived far worse and will inevitably endure this too. No, it's the potential end of us or more precisely it's the end of this iteration of us; humanity may endure but it wont be like this.

So, I'm no denier. But, man, the current climate narratives leave me cold. Why? Primarily because they're all bollocks. Some purposely failing to address the foundational problem of our consumption/behavioural habits, in favour of the idea that 'growing' a 'green economy' where we essentially carry on our destructive behaviours through virtuous 'green' means will save us; a comforting fantasy for the privileged classes. A fantasy that's for the birds. Scrutinize the detail and none of it adds up. And what does the future look like for the growing body of marginalized  disenfranchised folk who aren't privileged with agency and opportunity? It looks at best to me quite like green feudalism and opportunity apartheid; the dystopian societies of scifi novels made manifest. Fuck that. Or you've the wailing doomers with their worst case scenarios, where there's no averting our extinction, we're the walking dead. I don't think fatalism is a motivator; unless the response you desire is 'well fuck it then'. Neither green techno-unicorn-ism or death cult narratives move us towards the change we need to make. I'm bored of hearing them. We need to acknowledge that wide ranging climatic and social change is now baked in; though if we get our heads out of our arses, there's a hope that strategies for our managed decline and survival could be achieved. I wonder though if we've really the desire or stomach for the change required. If the current narratives can't convince me as one who's already on board, how are they going to convince the uninterested, the sceptic or worse the denier?

14 pebbles

 

14 pebbles placed on the hollowed stump of an ancient tree. A good choice of spot. So what's this about then? I think the pebbles must have been brought out to the forest intentionally, that there's motive behind the circle beyond simply spontaneous art for art sake. Yes you could pick up pebbles in the forest, though the majority are dirty sub angular or angular, and those from the streams are frequently stained; no, these look more like selected coastal pebbles of roughly similar size, they're very clean too. Of course I reserve the right to be wrong, though I don't think I am. Burley Old again, there's something about these stands, something magical that compels people to be creative, to leave their mark; art, shelters and graffiti amongst other works great and small. The stands here do have something compelling about them; the magic of old woods maybe.

Mast

 

It's an outstanding year for Beech (Fagus sylvatica) mast (mast being the fruit or nut of the tree), throughout the forest the boughs are loaded with their rough hairy cups, each containing one or two nuts. Of course, we'll have to wait until September to see if they amount to much; quality and quantity of mast production is massively variable, they say you get a good mast season every few years, which is believed to be driven, in part, by weather/climatic factors. At home for the first time our small (20 year old) container (old chimney pot) grown Beech tree has some hairy cases on it.