Burley Old

Timeless Burley Old.

End of the road

Ah, a common feature of the wet season forest is the bridge or raised track which ends in an expanse of impassable mud. Today it's the bridge over Red Rise Brook. Honestly, it's such a frequent occurrence that you'd think it was intentional; extend it a few meters more and it would have reached the higher firmer ground. Still, it makes for hilarity as you try reach dry ground via a network of semi submerged sticks and branches.

Autumn's end

Bye bye Autumn, my old friend.

Now leaves are coming to end.

They gave us shade, they gave us dappled light.

Though winter's touch has seen them all take flight.

This is the end...

of Autumn. 

 

Hardcore

Make room for the mushrooms. So soft, so fragile and mostly water, that this Shaggy Ink Cap (Coprinus comatus) has been able to force it's way into the light through an imperceivable crack between the tarmacked pavement and a brick wall is quite amazing.

Hedgehogs

Currently all over the forest, wherever we walk, we see Hedgehog mushrooms (Hydnum repandum). It's quiet late in the season for them, they're usually spent by this time of the year, gone over and too often beyond use. Not this year. Maybe it's the rains coming late, or the lack of significant frost as yet. The hows and whys don't matter though, there's good eating to be had in this tasty and easy to identify mushroom.

Mark Ash

Around the forest the autumn tints are developing beautifully, Mark Ash today was absolutely magical. 

Sky

Today the sky had a lovely Rodney Matthews-esque appearance to it.

November Moon

November Moon

High light

The sun was low in the sky, and the denser areas of the common were already beyond it's reach by the time Geoff and I went for our afternoon walk. The woodland was already dark and quiet, with the cold quickly rising up through the stands, you could feel it clinging to any exposed skin. Though high in the tall Scots Pines the last rays of the sun still clipped the canopies, illuminating them, the contrast was striking.

A rhapsody to moisture

At the moment the forest is a rhapsody to moisture being performed against a backdrop of autumnal hues. It's magical, if not sodden and obstacle strewn, walking, with a glorious feel to it, as if something deep and ethereal is afoot. I could best describe the atmosphere as like wandering through a fairytale, expecting at any moment someone or something to hurry through the stands and the adventure begin. Maybe it was mythagos or something, there was certainly magic about...and, wet, lots of wet.

Lady's Mantle in the morning

I woke early this morning, before the sun had properly risen, outside I could faintly see stars as they slowly vanished into the creeping blue. I could also see that Jack had been busy, as over the rooftops and gardens there was a dusting of frost, the first proper one I'd seen this autumn too. Proper as it was, by the time I'd had my coffee and got together to go out, it had all melted...obviously not as hard a frost as I'd imagined. Still, it did leave the Lady's Mantle and other herbs beautifully bejewelled.  Which is always nice.

Yellow Brain fungus

Yellow Brain fungus (Tremella mesenterica) bursting out from one of the charred gorse bush remains which litter the slope of Rock Hills.  They're a very common fungus on dead wood throughout the forest, with their bright colour making them easy to spot in the dulling autumn heathland.

Clayhill Bottom

When you think of a forest, you think of trees, and of course there are plenty of trees in the New Forest, although I'd imagine that many visitors are surprised find that nearly half of the 'forest' is open grassland and open wet and dry heathland. The New Forest heathland is but a minor remnant of a extensive regional heathland which once spanned areas of Dorset and Hampshire, other pockets of which remain scattered across the two counties. I've said it before, the forest may look natural, though it exists as a direct result of clearance to facilitate ancient farming practice and is anything but a natural phenomena. Heathland would quickly disappear without vigorous management, you can see how rapidly birch and conifers colonize when left to their own devices. A grand landscape to roam at any time of the year, although in my opinion, it's barren beauty is best appreciated through the stark winter months. 

Solstice card pencilled

A positive aspect of our current wet weather (and early sunsets) is that by cutting my opportunities for procrastination it has encouraged me to get on and do some drawing. As a consequence I've finished the initial pencilling for this years Winter Solstice card.

Nearly

The colour changes in the forest are accelerating, out on the heath the bracken and heather are russet hued, whilst amongst the stands every shade of orange is represented. The colour change is particularly evident when a deciduous tree finds it's home amongst it's coniferous brethren. I love autumn's contrasting colours, nature's glorious last hurrah after a job well done. It's always difficult to predict whether or not the stands will achieve their potential magnificence colour-wise, that perfect splendour, there are finely balanced factors at play, sunlight, temperature and moisture all affect the breakdown of chlorophyll. Or how long the show will last, the wind has been wreaking havoc through the stands of late, branches down wherever you roam and a general hollowing the canopies throughout. Time will tell. Still, in the meantime the forest gorgeous anyway.

Tenacious tree

Trees teach us many things, such as, to stay grounded, to be patient, to keep growing and to weather life's storms. With reference to the last point, the forest is full of tenacious trees, ones that although mortally wounded, heroically stand firm against the relentless elements, some even appear to stand in defiance of logic and physics. Take this gnarled Beech who still reaches upwards and whose canopy still thrives, though doing so with only a tiny fraction of it's trunk remaining. Isn't nature wonderful.

Warwickslade Cutting

Today the forest looked like this.

Food of the dead

It being Samhain, I thought it quite apt that we should come across this tree still decked in rosy red apples. What with apples (and nuts, also still bountiful in the forest) being a food of the dead. Still, I was surprised to find a couple of 'eaters' out here in the forest, they were on what would have been a low bank running along the former path of the A31, and it's tempting to think that they're the progeny of a travellers picnic. A sort of accidental Johnny Appleseed type affair. You know, as part of our national tree planting program we really should plant more fruit bearing trees as part of a local, seasonal, sustainable subsistence model. Can you imagine?

Samhain

Mists rise as the veil to the otherworld falls.

Beyond the mists our ancestors open the doors of their halls.

Blessed Samhain y'all.

You ain't seen me...right.

You ain't seen me...right. We're coming towards the end of the rutting season in the forest, and the demeanour of area's near 1500 Fallow Deer community is beginning to become calmer. You can still see evidence of their well used rutting stands and rubbing stumps, although the roars of their throaty barks are becoming far less frequent. Their business done, they've melted back into the woodland. Though they're still there...watching.

King of the castle

Bless him, Geoff thinks he's king of the castle, when in reality he's a wet and dirty rascal, prone to bouts of selective deafness, with a penchant for eating poo. He's lovely though. 

Berry good year for Holly

It's been a bumper year for Holly berries (as it has been for all the forest fruits), the consequence of the right elements delivered at the right times. Folklore says that a bumper show of Holly berries is a portent of a bitter winter to come, the weather wizards have mooted similarly. Though, who knows these days. Most plant folklore has it's roots in truth somewhere, you can see it, it makes sense, although our current chaotic weather and overarching climate crisis are causing those truths to be tested.

Warwickslade pond

Warwickslade pond, a seasonal watering hole returned.

A time to reflect

As Samhain and the end of the year approaches, walking through the forest is a perfect time to reflect on the year just gone. I hope the Fates were kind to you.

The Past Tense 'Time stands still' on 7'' orange vinyl

We are the Mods (repeat), we are, we are, we are the Mods! I could just leave it there, as I reckon that sums up what you've got here quiet accurately. I remember chanting 'we are the Mods', during the late 70's Modernist revival, I loved everything about mod culture, though in particular I loved, and still love, the music, both that of the 60's and the revival era. So, what a lovely treat listening to The Past Tense is, I'd first heard them when they performed the opening track on FdM's 'The Three Seasons', a smashing rendition of The Attack's 'Magic in the air'.  'Time Stands Still' is all original 60's  tracks from both sides of the Atlantic, plucked from the period when here Mods were discovering psychedelics and America had turned on, tuned in and was dropping out, and that cultural mind shift was reflected in the music of the period. The Past Tense have taken that distinct 60's Mod psyche sound, infused it with elements of the later 70's/early 80's modernist revival sound and have masterfully brought it into the present. You can tell that The Past Tense love Mod music too, they must do to have reproduced that sound so perfectly, the care and attention to detail they've employed creating an endearing authenticity to their sound. Many of tracks are from bands, that if I'm honest, I'd never heard of, but, man, all of the tracks are pure gold. This release is another FdM ferrero rocher moment, as not only is there 'Time Stands Still', a lovely four track orange vinyl 7'', there's also an accompanying ten track CD 'Across the Pond...And back again', marvellous. Spoilt, or what! Check it out here.

Amethyst deceiver

The Amethyst deceiver (Laccaria amethystina) a common small woodland mushroom. Edible*, although be aware that it can absorb arsenic from the soil. I don't imagine that to be too much of a problem though, or they'd not be listed as edible. When I've used them there's only be a few to add another colour and texture to a mushroom medley or risotto. As with many of the forest's mushroom communities, there are a lot of them about this year.

*Remember, don't collect anything unless you are 110% certain what you're collecting.

Lighting

Suck in your favourite woodland views, as soon the canopies will fall and the light in the forest will change those views dramatically. They'll still be cool, just a different cool.

Something fishy

Who'll have these fishies on a little dishy now the Fruit de Mer boat's come in? No little dishy for me, man, these little fishies are going straight on a platter, and no mistake. Check out their current catch here.

Kangaroo Moon @ The Square and Compass 19.10.19

Tonight we found ourselves packed inside the thick Purbeck stone walls of the 18th century Square and Compass pub perched high on the hills above Seacombe Cliffs with dramatic views along the Jurassic Coast.  The assembled were gathered to enjoy a performance by legendary musical troubadours Kangaroo Moon, who blend myriad musical influences to create all sorts of wonderful aural magic that touches the spirit. If you've read my posts before you know I've a tendency to effusive verbosity and, man, I could wax lyrical about tonight's performance, but I'm going to try and spare you my clumsy prose (of course, I will go on a little bit) and just say this evening's performance was bloody marvellous! The word that best describes Kangaroo Moon's performances is 'real', and in our fake world you can't put a value on that. Tonight the band comprised of Elliet Mackrell on violin and whistle, David Williams on things with strings and other things, Gem Quinn on drums, Nick Marshall on guitar and Mark Robson on keyboard, didgeridoo and everything else. As if that wasn't enough, they were joined by Gong's Dave Sturt on bass, adding some funk to the proceedings...nice! Something really special about tonight's performance was the relationship between Elliet's violin and Dave's bass, man, that was something else. What a superb line up. Every one a musician highly skilled at their art, which was obvious throughout their performances, and none more so than during their various stellar solos. There were two sets, both a lovely mix of fast or slow numbers, every track was bliss, creating a wonderfully uplifting and joyful atmosphere, there was dancing and smiles all round, the ensemble appeared to be enjoying themselves too. Kangaroo Moon's blend of traditional and globally infused psyche folk flavours resonates deeply, it's proper music, real, touching that part of your subconscious where ancestral memories live, that was enhanced by being performed in a 250 year old building who's walls are soaked in centuries of tradition and memories of similar evenings throughout the ages...it's timeless music. As I said, bloody marvellous! Thank you Kangaroo Moon and Mr Sturt, you're beautiful people, and thank you Square and Compass for putting on these elevating evenings, keeping our spirits buoyed on the turbulent seas of our times. Kudos y'all. If you're wondering why the photo is of an empty stage, it's because the rest of my shots look like they were taken by Mr Magoo.

Pigs

We knew the pigs were out to pannage around the forest (pannage is the tradition of releasing pigs into the forest to hoover up the acorns, dangerous in high quantities to the forest's ponies), although this was our first spotting of them this season. It's always lovely to see them out, they add something to the forest...maybe it's a dim echo of the past when wild pigs would have been a common sight in the landscape. Geoff was interested in them and wanted a closer look, but the young pigs were more interested in him and wanted an even closer look...Geoff ran away.  I don't know if this was a family group, the sow did look different to the younger pigs accompanying her, that said, I know little about the Suidae family. Whatever, they were a healthy and inquisitive bunch, enjoying the autumnal sun and their nutty feast (acorns have been particularly bountiful this year).

Warwickslade Cutting

Water is beginning to settle in the forest, the ground has noticeably softened, to the point where every footfall is now accompanied by a splash.  Amongst the wetter lower lying stands every ditch and hollow has become a watery obstacle, there come times in the forest when your boots never properly dry, now is shaping up to be one of those times. Throughout the forest the tiny tributaries and smaller water courses are coming into their own, the landscape is changed. For much of the year you can easily step over Warwickslade Cutting (a former straight drain restored to its former meandering course, here running through Camel Green), though the recent rains have brought about a transformation, its become a proper stream  and will probably stay like this until spring. This is a lovely spot and one we'll return to as autumn continues towards it's colourful crescendo, the reflection of autumn's tints in the puddled terrain are beautiful.  

You lookin' at me?

You lookin' at me? You lookin' at me? You lookin' at me? Then who the hell else are you  lookin' at? You  lookin' at  me? Well, I'm the only one here. Who do the f*** do you think you're  lookin' at? Oh, yeah? Ok. This stag was clearly a De Niro fan.

Magical misty morning

You can't beat mornings like these, the eerie diffused light, with all the landscape's colours drained and muted, that rich earthy petrichor smell filling your senses, and the soft muffled sounds combine to create a unique magic. It resonates deeply with you on several different levels, conscious and subconscious.

Panther Cap

A somewhat out of focus photo of a Panther Cap (Amanita pantherina), a shame, as it was a perfect example, caught at just the right time. 

Red Rise risen

Today Red Rise Brook has risen making places to cross limited, the usually gentle and docile stream is running well beyond it's banks, with crossings limited to the forestry bridges and a couple of fortuitously placed trees. Of course, it can extend much further, to the point where as a consequence of flooding even the bridges are redundant, although today's still a timely reminder of the shape of the wet season forest, and it's associated navigational considerations. 

Nature's mycelic cornucopia

I've not seen the forest's Cep (Boletus edulis) community expressing it's fecundity to the present extremes for many years, it's a rare and beautiful event. There were so many Ceps that it was hard not to tread on them as we wandered through the stands. Ceps of all sizes, from small perfectly formed buttons and the eponymous bun to the tea-plate sized ones, made for drying. Ceps have burst through in places I know them to grow, though rarely see them there and even in spots I don't remember ever seeing them. We've been foraging amongst these oak stands for 30 years, and this is something special, it might well be the most prolific I've ever seen them... it's a mycelic cornucopia. 

Master of all he surveys

Geoff checks out activity across in Stag Brake this morning.

Late arrivals.

The rains have brought out a flush of Parasol mushrooms (Macrolepiota procera) across Spy Holms, there are dozens of them tucked away amongst the fading heather, trooped and singular. It's the best show of them that I've seen here in years. Normally they'd have been out for a while now, dotted here and there, although the dry nature of this year's summer/early autumn has inhibited them. They're certainly making up for it now.

Houns Tout loop

Today we were back out to Purbeck, well, it would be rude not to on a morning as glorious as this. Today we took the ridge out to Houns Tout from Kingston, it was lovely. For me, the views from the ridge into the Encombe Valley and over towards Swyre Head never lose their shine, nor do those from Houns Tout, which was windswept. I'm not too fond of heights and the Tout is exposed with a narrow path across it, quite nerve wracking, although nothing compared with the steep descent towards Chapmans Pool with an excited Geoff, the angle of the slope and the length of Geoff's lead were at odds with each other. I calmed myself with a mantra of profanity, usually works. There are very steep steps down, a lot of steps, steps which feel too close together, and as so are hard to negotiate. It was not a comfortable descent, and I was grateful to reach the bottom of the steps without incident, then promptly fell on my arse...gave me a laugh. One last look across Chapmans Pool at Emmett's Hill and St Aldhelm's Head beautifully illuminated in the autumn sun, and it was back off towards Kingston.  A bracing, if not briefly terrifying, Sunday walk.

Burley Old #?

Burley Old #? I'm not sure how many times I've posted about some aspect or other of Burley Old enclosure, or just a photo. It's certainly one of our favoured stands and undoubtedly a place imbued with oodles of natural magic. Maybe that's why we're called back to it so frequently. And, I'm sure we're not the only ones who thinks so either, judging by all the varied signs of activity we come across. This morning it was really still, beyond the stands a dense mist blanketed the forest, though only manifest lightly amongst Burley Old's veteran Beech adding a fairytale air, sounds were muffled and quiet reigned. It was nice.