Temporary respite

Although only slight in nature, the rains have allowed the forests streams to flow again, even if thinly and only temporarily, it's respite for the woodland and its inhabitants. It's freshened the air a bit too.

Re-growth

I've watched with interest as this part of Wilverley has changed. Initially the Sweet Chestnuts were removed, leaving the woodland open and exposed, soon after the Sweet Chestnut stumps sent up multiple rods and a blanketing coppice developed obscuring the woodland, now, some years on, the rods have reached for the skies, growing up tall and revealed the woodland once more. The forest is always changing. Most interesting though, isn't here where the hand of man has agency in change, but where man has withdrawn from 'managing' the landscape and nature is allowed to chart her own course.  Still, interesting to watch cycles in motion.

Carpet @ The Winchester Gate, Salisbury, 26.7.18

I've picked up a few set lists over recent years, although never anything like this unique info-graphic set list, how cool is this! Accurate too. And, the band? One of Salisbury's finest...Carpet. Carpet are a high quality psychedelic beat combo, a band we first saw supporting west coast maestros Carlton Melton a couple of years ago. We like them. For good reason, they play a very nice line in improvised grooves, I say improvised, clearly there's a plan (the images is evidence), but you can tell by the way the band throw glances at each other that there's an element of flexibility and freedom in their performance. I felt jazz stylings as the individual band members did their things, before blending into a fabulous psychedelic whole, it was proper immersive stuff too. I don't know much background on the band, although I do know guitarist Darren also plays with those Salisbury stalwarts of 60's flavoured psyche The Neighbourhood Strange. Clearly all the musicians are proficient in their art, each band member bringing their best to the table, and all looking to be having fun. The drummer was interesting, there was something decidedly punk about his style and delivery which certainly added to the energy, the other guitarist too was really throwing himself into it...they all were. We were blown away, the whole room were loving it. As the info graphic suggests, so it was. A psyche explosion sent all the musicians hurtling out into space on their own courses, slowly coalescing into a lovely mellow groove, before the beat kicked in and a sumptuous heavy groove took hold, and that really was a lovely heavy groove to finish. Bravo! My only complaint, I wanted more. Another top night at another one of our 'not so local locals' (The Winchester Gate, Salisbury), not so not local as our primary 'not so local local' (The King Arthur, Glastonbury), but still not a local really as to be described as local. I digress. Carpet have changed and most definitely grown since we first saw them a couple of years ago, and they may well have been the support this evening, but I'd happily have turned out just to see them, and hope to catch them again real soon.Check them out here.

Bifrost, maybe?

A rainbow shines through a cloud waterfall, either that or it's the Bifrost, and Asgard's eyes are upon us.

Adder

Right in the middle of the main track across St Catherine's Hill, a young Adder (Vipera berus) makes its way slowly into the emerging day (I was out early today). Our only poisonous snake, they say the young small ones give the worst bite, whether that's an urban myth, I don't know and am not eager to find out.  

The Hill

When I first visited St Catherine's Hill is was pretty much all scorched earth and charcoal trees. It was late 1976, after the long hot summer and its accompanying fires, and it remained charred for the next few years. Then in subsequent years self seeded pine, gorse and the dreaded rhododendron invaded, colonized and eventually consumed the hill. It remained like that for years, all choked up. Though in recent times, through the work mostly of volunteers, the hill has been born again. Gone are the invasive flora, the landscape opened up, the heathland flora and fauna are recolonizing.  I imagine the landscape looks much as it should do. It was nice to see it so invigorated, something long overdue. 

Burley Old

Burley Old enclosure 1700.

Seed head

Stream side seed head.

Full of chickens!

The forest is very dry, that's established, which makes the abundance of Chicken of the Woods about even more surprising. Why? More though, how? Where are they getting the energy, and liquid from, what with fungi being mostly water. Really! I've not known such a season with so much Chicken of the Woods, no matter where you look there are flashes of yellow/orange. All of the examples I've come across are perfect too. Usually they're flawed or damaged or faded in some way, though that doesn't appear the case this season. Maybe, these are the perfect conditions for Chicken of the Woods. It's quite a sight.

Sloe

The forest may be dry, though one of the streams still flowing well is Red Rise Brook and as a consequence the fruits on stream side shrubs a filling out nicely.

Express yourself

Youth expressing themselves, leaving their marks on a stack of harvested timber in Ferny Knapp enclosure. Although in two separate places on an extensive stack, both sets would appear to be made by the same six individuals; one jokey, one proper. D of E hikers I reckon, it's the right size group, and I can't imagine you getting that many young folk out into the forest any other way. Bless 'em.

Like a dog to water

For Geoff's first encounter with a stream we went to Mill Lawn. Without hesitation, and with a lot of excitement, Geoff was straight in, and before long out of his depth and swimming. Handy really, it'll save me having to wash him down after those wet and muddy winter walks.

Duck Hole

The heatwave continues, and forest dries out further. Or so it appears. No, that's being disingenuous, the forest is really dry on the whole, though if you venture off the beaten track, off into the heathland hollows you'll find them still wet, and a filigree of rivulets being fed by hidden springs still flowing well.  Take Duck Hole Bog here, in a fold below what was Markway enclosure (now clear felled and harvested), verdant and lovely, clear tannin tinged water bubbling along in stark contrast to the increasingly parched open heath around it. Definitely, a place to sit a while and take in the summer forest.

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.

Dawn walking

The introduction of Geoff into my life has radically altered my routines, I've now become the dawn treader, out walking over the dew covered common by 0630. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not moaning, it's nice to see the early hours of day and nature waking. Well, other being thoroughly moist with dew on my return, that is. As currently the common is furnished with above head height bracken, rose bay willow herb and grasses. An island of wild in a suburban setting, really, it quite a wild place.

Cool invader

The cool flower of a Red Bottlebrush (Callistemon) plant way out in the forest, clearly an invader, although lovely nevertheless, this species originates in Australia where it's endemic. Not something you'd commonly see out and about in an English wood.

The ponds

I popped by the 'Ponds' today, and although the ponds are all desiccated, the surrounding landscape remains verdant and thriving. I think the site was originally chosen for a wildfowl reserve as it's a spring head.  It's like a strange oasis in the forest, so different in nature to all that surrounds it.

Black Water? What water!

Black Water? What water! No, there's little or no water! The forest continues to desiccate as the summer intensifies. Some of the forests streams are showing their bare bottoms. Black Water and Highland Water, both tributaries of the Lymington River, are dry but for a few greasy and fetid pools. Although, I'm sure the streams still flow silent and greatly reduced below the exposed gavels to the eye their invisible. Makes you wonder though, how'll the forest cope with climate change if it manifests as longer hotter/drier summers.

Ober heath hide

This shooters hide, camouflaged amongst a few young trees, is the largest I've come across in the forest. They're usually one person affairs, although this one could easily accommodate 2 or 3 shooters, and makes a perfect rest spot with excellent views (you have to ignore the 'no public' sign, but that's not hard). People have asked 'why are the forest deer shot?'.  Well, it because nothing is as natural as it looks, the forest landscapes you see have been created over millennia of human exploitation and manipulation. Or to put it bluntly...it's not natural. Heathland, was created when agriculture was adopted (in some places it would have been an existing niche environment, subsequently expanded) and the wild wood cleared, the soils productivity failed quickly and more wild wood was cleared. Heath once spread over huge areas of Britain, although now it's becoming an increasingly rare and protected environment. If it's not managed nature would once again assert herself, improving the impoverished soils, reinstating woodland, and heathland would disappear or return to niche pockets. Controlling the deer population is part of that management, as another aspect of our historical interfering was the disruption of natural equilibrium through the extermination of species. Once wolves, along with hunting, would have managed deer populations, now they need to be regularly culled.  The New Forest authority are performing a balancing act, they need conditions just so. They need natures attempts at reforestation curbed, although not to the extent of no new reforestation. Nature once had it sorted.  But we had to stick our oar in, we really are a disruptive and destructive species.

Rhinefield Sandy's

Rhinefield Sandy's enclosure has been fenced off for years now (some forestry project or other), high deer proof fencing making it an isolated island immune to deer or pony assault. You can see the difference too, it must be 20 years now, and the under-story is thick and impenetrable in places. With no public access either, no humans has also meant that, but for the main forestry track, the paths have all but been reclaimed by the forest. This used to be favoured walking of ours, and it was on this path that our eldest said his first word 'tree'. Over the intervening years I've scaled the fencing on several occasions and explored the undisturbed stands, watching the changes and wondering when the fences will come down and access restored. 

Loving it

Geoff's first impressions of the forest, were that he like it. I think he can see the potential fun to had there, and he's yet to discover the streams.

Helium by Custard Flux

He's only gone and done it again! Who? The Luck of Eden Hall's Gregory Curvey. Man, I swear, the guy's a creative Midas or something, all his offerings to date have been pure gold. Curvey's back with his latest project 'Custard Flux', a project born with the acquisition of a dilapidated 100 year old Harmonium. He restored the harmonium (music not being the only string to his creative bow), bringing the ailing instrument back to life, and going on to create the album 'Helium' around it. Helium by Custard Flux is another Curvey masterpiece, again as with The Luck of Eden Hall, he's forging pure aural bliss. From the opening track 'The Hit Parade', a jaunty number, the harmonium conjuring images of yore, dancing dandies and masked ladies, juxtaposed with a distinctly psychedelic dream pop flavour, you know you're in for a treat. And you're not wrong, the melodic adventure continues throughout this great album. Like a musical magpie with alchemical powers he gathers elements from the myriad corners of the progressive/psyche universes and creates something uniquely Curvey, it runs through his work like Brighton through rock. That distinctive Curvey vocal too, man, weaves lyrically through the album, like a tonal watermark. There's all sorts going on in this album, echoes of early 70's Canterbury on some tracks, like 'The Shire of Gingin', whose opening guitar put me in mind of bands like 'The Audience'. And, there are nods to those later grand mid 70's prog opuses too, in the depth and scale of sound Curvey constructs. Then he'll change tack, with a number like 'Tiger', with its jangly guitar reminiscent of that 80's psychedelic pop sound, or a burst of good solid psyche rock as on 'Forevermore'. So many interesting musical paths explored, so many wells sipped from, a musical tour de force served as only Curvey knows how. Filled to the brim with ideas, every track's a delight, which carry you dreamily along with a smile on your face...this is such a beautifully chilled out album, man. Custard Flux sits comfortably on a sumptuous chaise lounge of psychedelia, shining, propped up with plump prog cushions, and draped in a brightly coloured pop throw, one reverent eye on the past, the other gazing excitedly into the future. An example of contemporary psychedelia at its loveliest, and all performed on acoustic instruments, yeah I know, yet another layer of wonder. The title track 'Helium' happens to be the last track, an apt cherry for such a delightfully rich cake of an album. Man, it's a gorgeous sunset track of dreamy shoegaze/ psyche pop, which in the end softly dissipates like a vapour, album done. Perfect. From start to finish there's no filler, and throughout the album the reinvigorated harmonium adds all sorts of groovy dimensions to that already established Gregory Curvey sound. Curvey played all the instruments and wrote the whole thing too! A musical Madrox, if you will. You want my advice, push the pie to one side and fill up on custard, it's delicious and nutritious, open your ears and let Curvey feed you minds. I'm absolutely loving this Album. A digital version is available on bandcamp, with a vinyl release to come, and you'll have to get behind me in the queue for that. Buy this album!

Mast

The Beech mast is looking the best I've seen it in years, no, the  best I remember, actually. The boughs are weighed down with large fruits, and lots of them too, whole trees festooned with them. Notably, I observed that for the most part the Oaks in forest are nearly all void of acorns, or if the acorns are there they are very small. I wonder if there's some connection, a good year for one is a bad year for another. I know there are patterns out there, I see glimpses of them, what's really needed is to join all the dots up in the hope of creating a more complete picture. Something else noticeable is the proliferation of tiny sampling Oaks about the forest, wonderful to see, although I have to wonder how many will survive. Still. Aren't trees amazing. With the mast looking so good this season, I suppose I should be thinking about what could be done with them. I know they're edible and have been crushed to produce oil, though that sounds bloody laborious, they're only small and a bugger to process...or, it could be I just don't know the right method. I may to look into that. Or, a pesto type thing maybe?

Here and Now @ The King Arthur, Glastonbury, 30.6.2018

I'd first seen Here and Now perform in 1983 at Southampton Guild Hall, and never looked back, since then I don't know how many times we've seen them. What I do know is that 35 years on, and several line up changes later, they're still going strong, in fact as strong as ever. Over all those years Here and Now have never failed to come up with the goods, they never disappoint. Of course, over those years the shape of the band has changed as band members have come and gone, though I can honestly say that the current line up is as good as any I've seen perform. Throughout those years there's been one constant, the legendary, Keith the Bass, the governor, whose steadfast bass remains the solid foundation of the band. Joining him in the bands current manifestation are long time Gong family/Here and Now member Mark Robson on keyboards/vocals and Gem Quinn on drums, two fabulously versatile musicians (both also of Kangaroo Moon, now there's a band); and the 'Andy's', long time Here and Now synth wizard Andy Roger, and on guitar, fellow Andy, Andy Burrows (both also of the most excellent, Music of the Andy's). With a line up like that, of that high calibre, you know your ears are going to be well fed. Relative newbie Andy Burrows has really nailed that distinctive Here and Now guitar sound, and as with those who've gone before him, has brought something unique and new of his own, enriching the collective DNA of the sound which I think has been one of the secrets of the bands longevity (of course, the band will tell you 'there are no secrets'). I think one of the things that makes psychedelia so vibrant is the diverse and manifest talents of those in it, and their ability to effortlessly evolve, maintaining quality whilst remaining box fresh, Here and Now epitomize that.

The evening got off to a bumpy start, as the Andy's began to weave a nice trippy intro, the sound crapped out...I was getting into that too. Soon though with technical gremlins dealt with (the Arthurs' sound guys know their onions), Here and Now launched to full effect.  From the get go it was a stellar set, a beautifully curated mix of material from across their illustrious repertoire. There were some older numbers like a beautifully updated rendition of 'Surgeons Knife', off of their 1979 'All Over The show' album, it' a real favourite of mine, and always a pleasure to hear. Several tracks from the 'Fantasy Shift' and 'Theatre period', it was tracks from these albums which were the sound track of our early Here and Now forays, and still hold a very special magic, creating continuity wormholes to those days of yore. And excitingly, there was also another welcome opportunity to hear some of the bands new material, and wonderful stuff it is, fresh and vibrant, distinctly Here and Now. It's so good to see, and hear. You'll be pleased to know that the band are recording new material for release and if the new tracks they've played of late are anything to go by, we're in for a aural treat...I for one can't wait. Throughout the evening the crowd were enthralled, dancing and showing their thanks loudly after each number. Kudos to the band, it was soooo hot this evening, they must have been melting up there under the lights, though that didn't stop them delivering a magnificent performance. The small back room of the Arthur was like a furnace, made more so by the gig being well attended, it was a full house. Man, evenings like this are needed more than ever, thank you Here and Now, you beautiful people. Sadly, as always, it was over all too soon, leaving a warm glow which resonates on as anticipation grows of the next opportunity to see the band. For over 40 years Here and Now have crafted something magical, never sounding tired, always sounding current, the band continue to be a influential force, as was clear tonight with another absolutely stunning performance by a seminal band of the British psychedelic scene. 

Of course, a big thank you to the Arthur, our not so local local (70 miles away, in fact), for your friendly staff and clientèle, and for continually putting on top shelf nights like this to buoy our spirits. I doff my cap to you.

Deviant Amps @ The King Arthur, Glastonbury, 30.6.2018

So, here we are again back in Glastonbury, returned to the venerable King Arthur, tonight to see the renowned Here and Now band, supported by the Deviant Amps. I'd heard a lot of good things about the Deviant Amps, all good, and what I'd heard of their music I liked, although until now I'd somehow never gotten to see them, narrowly missing them on a couple of previous occasions. Well, that was certainly hugely erroneous on my part, wow, what a great band. Formed by Paul Woodwright in the early 1980's, I understand the The Deviant Amps have gone through untold line ups and guest performers over the years, as appears common with bands of the psychedelic genre, and Deviant Amps appear solidly in the space rock wing of psychedelic. The current line up sees a 3 piece comprising of Paul Woodwright up front and centre on guitar and vocals, you've Dave Onley on bass and drums are supplied by Keith Chenery. Woodwright and Onley are fine musicians, clearly seasoned veterans and masters in their art, clean and tight, both delivering wonderfully rich sounds. Though I'll be honest, for the most part it was drummer Keith Chenery who had my attention as he furiously beat his kit, pulling a range of contorted faces. I searched for a word to describe his drumming style. Then a friend suggested he looked tormented. I had to laugh, I thought, spot on. It was as if the drums were tormenting him, driving him, pushing him through a range of emotions, sometimes he looked tortured, battling the drums, at others times he looked elated. I tell you what though, he's one heck of a drummer, the band weren't playing parlour music, and it's his drums which were driving those tracks along. So, a solid three piece delivering the finest quality psychedelic rock. Smashing! Tonight though, a bonus, as on synths they were joined by Ozrics' Seaweed. Man, can Seaweed twiddle knobs and tinkle keys, or what, he's got form for it and tonight he showed why as he wove his sumptuous tripped out sounds beautifully into the mix, taking our rockers further out into space. Like Mr Chenery, you couldn't help become transfixed by Seaweeds performance, as you almost saw the music flowing through him and the buzz that gave him. I love it when you can see the musicians really digging what they're doing, it's an absolute joy to behold, their energy is infectious. I spent the whole gig head bobbing, feet tapping and with a huge smile on my face. All the band members played superbly. I don't know the titles of any tracks, I have no idea, what I can say though is that that was an thoroughly enjoyable, well executed set of top psychedelia, played at it's best with genuine passion by musicians who really know their onions. Bravo chaps! When the opportunity arises again I'll certainly do my best to catch them, and I recommend you do too. And in the meantime check out their Bandcamp page, you wont be disappointed.

Glastonbury Tor

Glastonbury Tor, always a pleasure, though it has to be said, even better in nice weather.

Glaston-tree

We made our way up towards Glastonbury Tor through a deep sunken way, on the sides of which mighty trees clung, their roots cascading down the sides like petrified rivulets. The Isle of Avalon never fails to engender wonder.

Snips and snails

'Snips and snails and puppy dogs tails, and such are little boys made of', don't let his innocent appearance fool you.

All will be lost

I read that the last Oaks planted by the Victorians are coming to maturity, and the that when harvested the Oak will become an increasingly rare tree in our countryside, as over the years few have been planted to compensate for those to be harvested. How shit is that, man, really! Surely, the Oak is one of our symbolic and emblematic countryside trees, the majestic Oak King of the forest. We've already lost the mighty Elm, now the Ash is under threat, and you rarely see Limes any more. Does anybody care though? Apparently, from the article I read, only from an economic perspective. What bollocks. I despair, man. We're already haemorrhaging trees, towns are cutting them down and infrastructure firms are clearing them. Old England is really dying. Not the tired establishment tropes, outdated structures or the purposefully skewed jingoistic views of our history, nor our tarnished ideas around national pride (all things which really do need to die), but the actual land of England, its flora and fauna. Sadly when people tell you they 'love their country', it's invariably the former fake and hollow narratives they mean, not the real tangible natural matrix which actually is their country. On so many levels we're a really stupid people, our wilful ignorance will always be our Achilles heel, mire our progress and inevitably lead to our downfall. Still, Love Island's back on telly.

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!

Roaring Sky

If the sky was audible this evening it would have roared. It looked angry and fierce, alive like it could reach out and grab you, and at a certain level it does, like so many of natures wonders it grabs your imagination and draws you to it like a moth to a flame.  You think I'm being a bit dramatic? You just have to look at how people flock to an erupting volcano, or a storm battered coastline, or stand out in a wild lightning storm, or any other number of dangerous shows of natures power to see our moth like quality.  That said, we can also be dung flies, just look at the shit (ideologies, people, movements) we coalesce around. I think though, as dangerous as it may be, I'd rather be a moth. 

Summer Solstice

Is the wheel turning faster these days, or is it just me? It's the Summer Solstice already!  I think I've just not been paying attention, too busy, maybe. Stopping and taking time to really look, of course it's solstice, nature's shouting it, her beauty and splendour are out abundance. A time to celebrate. Though the festival itself is a strange one, as well as celebrating natures wonders, the growing evidence of the Sun and Earth's union, we also acknowledge that the Sun has reached his zenith, his power will begin to wane and from tomorrow the days will start to shorten and our journey into darkness begins. That's no bad thing, mind, it's all part of the cycle, yeah, a cold, wet, grim part of the cycle, granted, but everything has a time and a place. And that and more are still to come. For now I'm enjoying the warmth of the sun, the smells, sounds and colours of nature revelry, and really home you are too. Solstice blessing y'all.

Getting in a jam

A couple of years back I made some jam, in fact I made just over 10ltrs of jam...and, I'm still eating it today. Well, it is a preserve. This year I've had a glut of Strawberries, oh the trauma I hear you sarcastically cry, but you can only eat so many bowls of strawberries and cream...can't you. Anyway, I thought I'd make some more jam. When baking/making I like to try and cut down the amount of sugar I'm using, so I cut out a third of the sugar, and increased the fruit by a third, of course altering the recipe radically. Then, I washed the fruit when I shouldn't have, making the mix far too liquidy. Yup, you guessed it, what should have been a simple exercise soon turned into a proper mare, what could wrong, did. I cooked and cooked, and still the mix was failing the wrinkle test, and I cooked some more. Then I turned my back, distracted by Geoff, and boom, it began to stick to the bottom of the pan. Luckily I got to it quick enough to stop it burning, but only just, finally, in my haste forgot to skim it (although that wont effect the taste or quality). As I said, everything that could go wrong had (and everything I could do wrong I did), though at the end of it I still had some jars of jam. Lady luck smiled on me today, and no mistake.  

Down lotty

Geoff has restricted my movements somewhat, he's a ton of work, lovely, but it's like being under siege, you think you've got your defences set, only to find there are more weaknesses for your opponent to exploit than you ever imagined, and you're constantly playing catch up. That said, I've ensured I've got down on the allotment every day, well, you have too, if you're absent from the field of battle, nature will make you pay. Bless her, nature is relentless, and unforgiving if don't tend to her, one years seed seven years weed, and all that.  I've got half the dig-able plot open at the moment (the rest being covered), the onions, shallots, carrots, courgettes, runners, chard, tatties, Hamburg parsley (never grown this before) and leeks are all thriving, with a 9 tomato plants in the greenhouse along with peppers, chillies and cucumbers, and a fruit cage bursting with developing, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, gooseberries and blackcurrants. And I've a range of brassicas and beans still plant to plant. I love the realness of the lotty, the contact with the land and nature, and that timeless feeling you get from engaging in activities our ancestors have undertaken for millennia. Food don't taste too bad either.

Purple poppy

To me poppies epitomize delicate transient beauty. Intricate and fragile they shine for a day and them they're gone, no slow decline for them. This year they've been some gorgeous colours, deep rich reds through mauves and pinks to the most imperial purples. Always keeping on a prepping tip, and with an eye the countries slow demise, it's worth remembering that the poppy is also a useful and very potent medicinal plant. Even our British Opium Poppy (Papaver somniferum) will produce low grade opium, effective enough as a pain killer if required. An understanding of our field and hedgerow plants medicinal, food and resource uses would have been commonplace in the past, and may well become invaluable in the future.

Geoff

This is Geoff(rey), when you read 'we' in my future posts it's most likely that Geoff will usually be the other of the 'we' along with me. It was a hard decision to get a new hound, and to be honest it was not a move I was overly happy with, though I was out voted, and well, now he's here, hey, he has the makings of a lovely hound. To paraphrase a Basil Fawlty line, I didn't vote for Geoffrey, though now he's here I'm determined to make the most of it. I look forward to showing him around our roams, although it will be a couple of years before he gets to come on any long hauls.

Red Rise Brook

You wouldn't believe a stream ran directly through here, a deep banked, straight cut, quite sterile, remodelled waterway, a Victorian era drain dug to aid forestry. Red Rise Brook now runs free again in it's pre Victorian channel meandering along the nearby edge of the woodland, and brimming with diversity. The sections of stream, east and west of Markway Bridge (Ober to the east and Red Rise to the west) were restored about 15 years or so ago, and with their restoration now entering maturity, the only semblance of the Victorian drain are their occasional earthwork remains, which themselves are fading. Nature’s (apparent) ability to regenerate, to mutate and survive the changes thrown at it, and to heal, is a thing that keeps me buoyant in the face of our environmental rampage, she may not look the same, though I'm sure she'll endure and flourish. It would be nice if our species could flourish along with her, we could be giants, you know, though I think we're too stupid, or maybe merely wilfully ignorant. Never mind, maybe the moles or shrews can have a go next time around.

Breamore landscape

I've always been a big fan of artist and archaeologist (amongst many other things) Heyward Sumner, whose artwork captures the essence of our English rural landscape so very beautifully. And, today I was literally walking in Sumner country, the open chalk landscape between Fordingbridge (Sumner lived in South Gorley near Fordingbridge from 1904 to 1940) and Salisbury, specifically the area around Breamore House. Sumner knew this region well, living in it, walking it and exploring it, recording the archaeological landscapes of both the New Forest and Cranborne Chase. Two of the landscapes I particularly love to walk and myself know quite well (big headed, I know). Walking the land behind Breamore is like walking through a carousel of Sumner illustrations. And what strikes me, is how little the regions landscape appears to have changed since Sumner's time.  Take this photo which looks down a well worn drove, Sumner would most certainly have known and walked, up to Clearbury Rings (Iron Age Hillfort) or as Sumner knew it Claybury Ring, a landmark he illustrated. I reckon he'd as easily recognize all his old haunts, just as easily I recognize the landscapes he drew and painted.

Elderflowers

Throughout the hedgerows and shrubby woodland clumps indicative of the chalk downland of southern Wiltshire, Elder's are coming into bloom, and it's wonderful. Is there anything more evocative of summers arrival than the pungent aroma and creamy white flower clusters of the Elderflower (Sambucus nigra). I think not.