Mellow morning

A subdued scene from our walk along the Barton slides foreshore this morning. Mellow. Nice, mind.

Purbeck

 

Walking the Purbeck ridge this morning was wonderful, we'd last walked here back at the beginning of October last year, before the winter lockdown. The wooded hillsides and exposed chalk grassland are waking from their slumber, nature's boundless potential stirs as spring warms. A thick carpet of lush green leaves announce a sea of Ramsons and Bluebells are on their way. The first leaves are unfurling to greet the strengthening sun, whilst the main flush of canopy builds in branches of restless buds.  There's a lot of movement too, from the ground up to the crown. A deer crosses the track and quickly vanishes, melting back into the woodland, whilst numerous squirrels scurry about their business. All accompanied by a wonderful array of birdsong from above. We sat a while amongst the Ash and Oak of King's Wood as it opens into the rough chalk grassland of Kingswood Down. Transitional places have a certain atmosphere to them, two worlds meeting and all that. And I lost myself in natures song, so much so that I was tempted to give up our walk in favour of just sitting. Purbeck: beautiful, magical.  

Stoney Cross dispersal

The concrete dispersals that extend into the fringes of Ocknell Enclosure and used to house World War Two planes found post war utility as hard standing for campers and caravans. Stoney Cross used to have dozens of these dispersal pads, now less than ten remain, these 6 and 2 more in South Bentley Enclosure. If you know where to look in Ocknell Enclosure and Bolderwood Walk there are a few pieces of American wartime graffiti, it could be that one of their planes stood in the enclosures shade.

1867

In Queen North Wood I spied this 19th century graffiti, it looks like the letters 'C. VIDI' (or the V and I could be a Russian reversed N?) with a date of 1876. Nice. What a world the forest must have been then, how different the whole region must have been, much of the development around the area having taken place post World War Two. It must have been lovely.

Catkin

Catkins like beautiful yellow fireworks are exploding all over the common, tis their season to shine, and shine they do. The willows are certainly putting on an impressive show. They appear so profuse this year too, or maybe it's simply I'm noticing them more, that their presence is a welcome sign of continuity in our turbulent world.

 

 

Dockens dip

 

Back in the mid 80's I had an old Hillman Avenger, it was an indestructible machine, the T34 of small family cars. One winter's day we were Woodford Bottom way, over towards The High Corner, it's all nameless unmade-up roads...good exploring country. The New Forest was a different place then. We thought we'd see what lay beyond the ford through Docken Water, being winter the stream was running slightly deeper than usual, but still we thought...why not. I knew I'd need some speed to get through, although I accelerated down the slope with a bit too much gusto. The water was deeper than I'd thought and......splash! Of course the water swamped the engine, stalling it, luckily we had enough momentum to get the car beyond the stream. If you remember old cars, damp could be a problem, and with the engine wet through, no way was the engine going to start. So, it was pop the bonnet, dry the distributor cap and leads etal and wait. When dried out the engine started to a cheer, and we were off. Our odyssey could continue. Thing is, turning the corner the road came to an abrupt end, and a swift three point turn later we were facing the swollen stream again. This time though our exit was steeper, of course we didn't make it, and had to get cold wet feet pushing the car out before going through the whole lengthy drying rigmarole again. I'd not thought of that misadventure for years.

Dockens Water

 Dockens Water

The fall of reality

'Oh no, there ain't no sanity clause'...The Damned weren't wrong, were they. What's wrong with folk? Wherever you look the threads of reality are being pulled at, unpicked or beginning to unravel. QAnon and kin warp folks minds with weird tales of strange conspiracies, Critical Theories lay siege to provable science with fantasy narratives and a global pandemic can be denied in the face of overwhelming evidence and personal testimony. And that's before we consider the everyday effects of the algorithmic echo chambers, crony politics...crony everything, a polarizing media, and a raft of other destabilizing influences on reality.  An anti vaxxer told me that the vaccine is a conspiracy to inject nano crystals into us in order to disconnect us from the Godhead and connect us to the cloud, from where we'll be controlled...they were serious, to them this was real. Inquiries around evidence were met, as so often, with me being told to go educate myself...no evidence though. No, there's never any credible evidence, quantifiable evidence is so passé in our post real world. People have fallen out of love with truth and reality, they've been seduced by sci-fi B movie plots and competing ideological orthodoxies offering whatever...and if you disagree with them, even a soupçon, you're either a fool or their sworn enemy. With reality under attack like this from all quarters, you have wonder where this road will lead us and how long before we arrive. I'll be honest, I'm still quite hoping for the zombie apocalypse, purely as it would be simpler.

Spring Equinox

Today we enjoy equilibrium as the wheel turns into Spring, only for a moment mind, as the wheel never really stops turning. Out and about the first tree buds are beginning to unfold on the early leafers, birds darting from branch to branch through air thick with their chatter, and around our feet everywhere a lush green carpet is squeezing upwards...the land is awake. Springs wonders surround us as our journey into warmer longer days opens before us. A happy Spring Equinox / Alban Eilir to y'all. /|\

Next picture

That's the lines of my next piece of art inked and ready to be filled in. Although it'll mostly be my usually fill method, I have something different in mind for this one...well, maybe. First though it's going to be put to one side as another idea has pushed itself to the fore and as that idea is seasonally linked and so has a natural deadline attached.

Magnificent!

 

Last week I discovered a new (to me) cluster of trees all containing clumps of Mistletoe, and thought I'd walk that way again this morning to check out the broader area. Well, to my surprise I came across a tree more mistletoe than tree. Honestly I'd not seen a tree, especially such a small tree, so infected with Mistletoe, it's quite magnificent! Swathes of it are still bedecked in hundreds of clean white berries. It makes quite the show, although Mistletoe usually weakens trees and doesn't often kill them, this level of infestation on such a small host tree may not bode well for this hosts longevity. Still, what a sight to behold.

Holmhill

The Bagshot Gutter snakes it's way through the stands of a dark coniferous block in Holmhill enclosure as it races to join Highland Water just above Millyford Bridge.

Hope fades

Hope is carved into this old Beech in Puckpits, though you'd never know unless you knew. It's was an old carving when I first came across it, now it's all but become invisible, easily overlooked. Maybe it's a reflection on our maelstromic times...hope fades.

The Continuing Escapades of the Soft Hearted Scientists

I first heard The Soft Hearted Scientists via their exceptional 2013 compilation on Fruits de Mer Records 'Whatever Happened to the Soft Hearted Scientists' which I was gifted by a friend....and from that first listen I've loved them. The term unique is bandied about a lot, often undeservedly, although the Soft Hearted Scientists truly deserve the title and with knobs on too. Their sound? Man, that's a difficult one. The Soft Hearted Scientists are one of those hard to accurately explain bands, being so musically nebulous labels easily slip off...original though definitely has secure tenure. Ostensibly though their tracks are 60's/70's soaked gentle upbeat little psyche pop numbers imbued with a warm floaty-ness, though delve through that veneer and look a little deeper, listen to the lyrics and some darker themes emerge, with some tunes becoming a delicious mix of jaunty melancholia. Musically and lyrically every track is magnificent, richly rendered with boundless depth, and all beautifully crafted. This second vinyl compilation released again on the Fruits de Mer Records label (the foremost purveyor of psychedelic unique and place I've discovered so many great artists) is a wonderful companion for the first, it retains the high standards initially set and as the title suggests, continues their musical journey. The Continuing Escapades of the Soft Hearted Scientists is a real dream for anyone who already digs the bands unique musical flavours, or anyone who has a proclivity for music with character.  Sit back and soak up 8 sides, yeah you read right '8' sides of pure aural magic. The first 4 sides are tracks from the bands 2005 to 2016 albums, this time round focusing on albums 4 to 7, and then the last 4 sides are glorious side long mixes of Soft Hearted Scientist tracks by that masterful mixer Swordfish of Astralasia...shit doesn't get much better than that. As you'd expect from Fruits de Mer Records the whole caboodle is beautifully presented, 4 cleanly pressed coloured vinyls housed in a quality card sleeve. Absolutely smashing! You should check out their Bandcamp page, there's a wealth of cool music to be found from both The Soft Hearted Scientists and Nathan Hall and the Sinister Locals.

Mistletoe

We came across a group of five or six trees this morning, all with nice sized clumps of Mistletoe in them. How marvellous, they were on Crab Apples too.

Dam Busters

For a few years there was a natural dam built up on this section of Highland Water as it meanders through Camel Green. Every winter it would hold the water back heroically. It looks like the forestry have cleared it, as it's piled on either bank. I thought the idea of bog woodland restoration was to slow the water leaving the forest, in order to reinstate a wetter environment, to let nature do her thing...naturally. Dams form are natural occurrences, one clearly developed here and was effective at slowing the water, so why interfere when she does her thing?

 

What a state

Leaving Slufters enclosure I came across a message attached to the gate. Ah bless, though it would be funnier if humanity wasn't in the state it is. We're living through a time and in a world where folk would rather believe unsubstantiated nonsense than the measured words of medical and scientific professionals even in the face of overwhelming evidence. Folk who'd rather expound B movie conspiracies than deal with corporations and governments actual crimes which continue unabated, even colluded with. Or increasingly rather compete in a vacuous victimhood Olympics whilst the plight of genuine victims of injustice goes unchallenged. Is it any surprise we're looking at extinction or at best collapse and chaos. Personally I was hoping for a zombie apocalypse, but what can you do. Seriously though, once I would've despaired, increasingly I'm merely resigned.

AH 1908

Holly appear in huge numbers all over the forest, you don't give their age much thought. Some are clearly old, all twisted and gnarled, most though are not that impressive; I'm not dissing Hollies or ought, you just tend to think of shrubs as short lived. Imagine my surprise finding 113 year old graffiti on a trunk you'd think only a couple or so decades old, amazing. You can see the letters and numbers AH 1908 are old by their style, they don't appear stretched through, beyond some on one side of the A and the number 1. What I found most interesting, beyond the age of the graffiti, was that the Holly appears not to have grown much at all in the intervening years.

The orange spot

The orange spot is a bad portent when seen in the forest, think the black spot from Treasure Island. So it's always sad to see it on trees you've come to know, it means harvest time is coming and they'll soon be for the chop. Sadly orange spots have appeared on some of trees within our favourite coniferous block in Wilverely's mosaic. Aw well, that's the nature of forestry, a reminder the forest's managed. It's all change in Wilverley at the moment.

A dendronaut's dream

 

Dendronaut, what a great word. When it popped into my head whilst amongst the stands I thought I'd made it up, although a quick look on the internet showed of course I hadn't. Still. Although searching for a definitive definition of 'dendronaut', I discovered there isn't one, no dictionary entry or ought. I suppose simply put it means tree (dendro) traveller (naut), that works well enough for me really. I think it's the perfect word for those who can't keep to the footpath, being drawn off deep into the green to travel the less trodden woodland paths seeking exploration, immersion and connection. Walking was a dendronaut's dream today.

Full Moon

 Tonight was a perfect night for full moon fire.

Forest oak

  

Forest oak. 

Poorly stitched together, but you get the picture.

Hasley enclosure

This is the first morning that you've really been able to feel Spring's in the air. The growing young Sun and fecund maiden Goddess have begun their courtship and nature hums with anticipation. We started out from Mogshade Hill, and ended up doing a tidy 8 miles, it was a lovely day for walking. At our furthest point we found ourselves over Fritham Plain way; I've not walked this part of the forest for years, and it was good to be threading the tracks here again...the views are smashing. This is a distant Hasley enclosure seen from the edge of Sloden as we made our way up and along towards the plain.

Crocus

Amongst the mature trees and stones deep swathes of crocuses carpet the old section of New Milton cemetery, they really do make the finest of shows.

F*cking puritans

This is a new one on me..., the censuring of carved graffiti! What is wrong with people, are we back in the 17th century with roving Puritans saving us from the potential of sinful thought? F*cking puritans! SEX had always entertained me, was it carved in celebration, anticipation or desperation...who knows?  I'd say it's a fairly old piece, 60's/70's maybe.  It's 2 or 3 meters from the track and not that obvious, so unlikely to offend. Hey, why would you be offended by seeing sex carved into a tree anyway (beyond those who find carving any graffiti into a tree offensive that is.)? Makes you think though, what was going through the mind of the person who hacked of the X, really. Of course, I could be totally misreading the situation and it's someone with the initials SE who thought it simpler to remove the X on this piece than to carve SE for themselves. Yeah, I know, that's a silly proposition, though no sillier than what's been done.

Art

I've finally finished a piece of art (maybe). Oh huzzah! I have plenty of ideas, and do plenty of pencil layouts and provisional sketches for things, but then one thing or another sends me of course, and well, nothing ends up getting finished. I posted that I'd finished pencilling this Winter Solstice Card back in November 2019! In the case of this piece, my inability to finish it in time for Solstice 2019 moth balled it until 2020, which of course never happened. I say maybe in brackets as I'm still not sure about the Sun, I feel I may have drawn it too large to be left blank. We'll see. In the meantime I'm happy to have completed something and am hoping to use it as springboard to moving straight on to the next piece. 

Winding Stonard

Winding Stonard

Guiding light

 

Ocknell Plain was quiet this morning, only a few grazing ponies and the occasional walker, and it was easy to imagine that the plain had always been that way. A vast open expanse of heather and rough grass whose edges disappeared down in to wet woodlands. Although if you look reminders of a previous, more dramatic, life can be made out. Like the long stretch of plum straight road cutting the edge of the plain, or the broad shallow linked depressions that create patterns all over the plain. During World War Two an expansive 3 runway military airfield spread across the 3 adjoining forest plains, Ocknell Plain, Stoney Cross Plain and Janesmoor Plain, most notably used by the USAAF 367th Fighter group (softening logistical targets pre D-Day) and 387th Medium Bombardment Group (taking out infrastructure and logistics post D-Day). Very little of what was RAF/USAAF Stoney Cross Airfield remains today though, the buildings had been removed and the runways broken up for hardcore by the 1970's. Since then the remaining perimeter track and dispersed aircraft hard-standings have been gradually been removed; very little remains now of the airfield I remember. The long straight road follows the longest 07/25 runway and the network of broad shallow linked depressions represents the void left by the removal of the runways, taxiways, perimeter track and dispersed aircraft hard-standings. Occasionally you'll come across more tangible features like the runway light mounting in the photo. The light mountings run in pairs every few meters along the parallel edges of what was runway 07/25. I've always thought that removing all the infrastructure and physical remains of the forest's wartime airfields was a short-sighted act of cultural vandalism; they could have at least kept one as a historical resource/monument, and a resource that could have many sustainable uses to boot.

Flower figure

I like this. A nice, simple, though really effective piece of graffiti on the Markway side entrance to Markway Hill subway. A stylized figure created in flowers; of course it could be something else completely, a figure is simply my reaction. Great symmetry whatever. I don't know if it's the outline of an unfinished piece (there is a much larger word roughed out in the subway) or the finished article, either way, like it. More public art I say!

The Watcher

The forest should be a world full of mystery and magic.

 

Into the green

 

Wilverely walk this morning. Glorious. As I've mentioned before Wilverely is a mosaic of differing age woodland, coniferous and deciduous blocks, and each has it's individual character.  Today we wend our way through the mosaic and into the deep green of one of our favoured coniferous blocks.  In a naked winter landscape it's like a different green world. Towering mature conifers and occasional deciduous cousins create open glades and groves carpeted throughout in vibrant green mosses, around them every stage of conifer create dense green thicks, the age and species of each thick defines it's ease of accessibility, and winding throughout the whole block a myriad of criss crossing animal paths lead you through what feels like infinite pockets of new forests. Just within this one block you can walk for a couple of miles without walking on the same section of path twice (beyond crossing it) or seeing the same woodland view. 

Naked

Just as it's coldest just before dawn, the forest is at it's most naked just before the spring. By this point the bracken's been levelled by winter's rains, any leaves that clung on after the fall have been dislodged by the winds and the forest stands are truly bare.

Ramsons

 

Spring must be coming, the Ramsons are poking through. It's a lovely time of year, everywhere you look the land is waking. Ramson (Allium ursinum) is both useful and attractive. An edible plant with a garlic flavour and scent Ramsons can be used as a flavouring herb, in salads or soups and stews, take care though, it's strong stuff and use without restraint can lead to inedibility (I once had to through a pot of soup away it was so garlicy...and hot!). Ramson is a beautiful plant, and when it's white garlicy scented flowers carpet an entire woodland it's really a sight to behold, and to smell too. This time last year I was walking through the top of Norden Wood, for my money the finest of ramson woods, seeing the green shoots emerging and looking forward to Beltane when the ramson flower carpet is at it's most sublime. Lockdown meant that wasn't to be, I'm hoping for better this year.

Cold out

 Cold out.

Buckherd Bottom

This morning we were chased through Buckherd Bottom by horses which took a dislike to us, or rather a dislike to Geoff. Normally the New Forest Ponies carry themselves with a air of stoic indifference, not this white one and her crew. Of course Geoff was made up, believing the ponies were finally game for playing he bounded about excitedly, dodging and weaving...them in pursuit. Me, I wasn't enjoying the excited Geoff / excited ponies dynamic so much, and I was happy when we eventually put some ground between us. 

Milkham

Until recently it'd been several years since since I'd walked over Bratley Plain way or the mosaic woodlands below it, and oh how Milkham Enclosure is changed. I remember last time I was this way they'd just begun harvesting some of the coniferous blocks, particularly those bordering the Linford Brook, remodelling and restoring the surrounding landscape as they went. That restoration process is now well on it's way to completion, and it looks great. Whole new vistas have been opened up. The conifers now mostly gone Linford Brook runs through it's cleared collect, winding through thin smears of newly freed deciduous trees hugging the embryonic brook here and there, before disappearing again into the stands.

Rainbow ghost

We saw a strange phenomena in the forest today. It was cold and misty this morning although by the time we walked the low escarpment of Rock Hills the Sun was rapidly burning the mists away. When right in front of us a ghostly rainbow appeared. At first it was rather ephemeral, phasing in and out of existence. I wondered at first whether it was even there, or maybe it was an illusion. When it became tangible it was made stranger by it being so close, it manifested right there in front of us. So close we could see both ends touch down, though we couldn't see the top of the arch, that was missing as the rainbow didn't extend beyond the height of the mists. Really cool. The ghostly rainbow even had ghostly colours, although if you focused too hard they disappeared, a strange optical allusion for sure. Then it faded and was gone. What a lovely sight, I felt blessed to have caught it's transience.

Dark Hat

I stood eyes closed, light sun illuminating my face, listening to the gentle gurgling of a forest rivulet, it was bliss. A trailer for Spring to come. It even smelt like it, or maybe that was my mind playing tricks. Bloody lovely whatever.

Wild wood

 

Wild wood

Sunset

It's been long time since I took notice of the evening sky, and that's been remiss of me.