Mega structure

You'll see some good sized Wood Ants nests around the forest, although this one was something else; no doubt built on a rotting stump it stood at maybe 1.2m or more high. A nest this substantial could accommodate up to 250,000 Formica rufa ants; the mound seethed and it's surrounds were alive with the distinctive red and black ants. Quite the sight. Almost immediately I was under siege from the colony's inhabitants, or at least under investigation. Consequently I took my shot and moved away; although not a threat, wood ants do secrete formic acid (the same acid which produces the sting from nettles) and can spit their acid several feet when pissed. What's really amazing is that there were a dozen or more nests of various sizes in closish proximity; there must be so many ants out there.

Natures larder

These uncertain times have brought the fragility of the mechanisms which support and sustain us into sharp focus. It's said that we're only nine meals from anarchy, and I think that'd be a fair assumption. Hyperbole? Maybe. Although the fabric of society is already worn thin, with derision and division common as the façade of civility slips. There are several scenarios I can envisage where a knowledge of wild food resources and where to acquire them becomes invaluable. That in mind, I try as often as possible I to utilize wild food resources when they present themselves; not only do they make a welcome addition to the pot, engaging the foraging muscle also helps to keep it sharp. Today's find, a tidy clump of Oyster Mushroom (Pleurotus ostreatus); a common fungi found throughout the year on deciduous trees (in my experience, beech), especially after rains when you'll regularly find sprawling assemblages of them; a good edible, and one that's difficult to misidentify (never collect any wild food you're not 100% with). Until relatively recently an understanding of natures larder would have been commonplace, learnt in childhood and utilized through life, as had their ancestors into the mists of time, a lineage unbroken; not so much now though.

Rain drops keep falling

It may well be summer, although in traditional British fashion it rained for most of our walk this morning, and quite heavily at points. Throughout the stands the forest's Foxgloves (Digitalis purpurea) had their heads bowed in gratitude.....well, either that or in submission. 

Stinkhorn

A Common Stinkhorn (Phallus impudicus) erupts through the lush mossy carpet which covers the floor of Holidays Hill's mainly coniferous enclosure. 

Pyramidal Orchid

Either standing alone or in diffuse clusters, Pyramidal orchids (Anacamptis pyramidalis) are a common sight throughout the rough chalk grassland at this time of year. A beauty to behold.

Summer Solstice

Surely the year's wheel is turning too fast? Can it really be the midsummer already? Yes; Alban Hefin is upon us.  The Holly King maybe born and, mostly imperceivable until the equinox, the day's light will begin to decline; for now though the Sun King sits upon the thrown, surveying the flourishing landscape about him; he's at the pinnacle of his rule, his crown secure, his light shining strong; enjoy the halcyon days of summer. Solstice blessings. /|\

Ash die back

Ash Die Back or Charala (Hymenoscyphus fraxineus) got a foot hold in British forests because our national bio-security has been piss poor, too often trumped by commercial interests and the pursuit of profit; and it's not the only disease or pest threatening our flora and fauna either. Ash (Fraxinus) makes up 20% of British woodland, that's a lot of threatened woodland, man; and scientists suggest up to 90% of our Ash trees could be lost! Ash dominated the woodlands known as 'Under Win Green' and 'Water Gutter' which cling to the combes below Win Green Clump, today though they're a sorry sight. I first explored these woods whilst on a hazelnut collecting mission some 30 years ago; I've always liked exploring, and there weren't the 'Private' signs there are now....well, I didn't see them.  It's terrible to see these and other woodlands so badly ravaged by Ash Die Back, but more than that, it's infuriating knowing it probably could've been avoided, or at least abated with due diligence. I'm old enough to remember the carnage wreaked by Dutch Elm Disease; it's inconceivable to think we didn't learn and therefore are destined to relive the experience.

Chase Woods

Chase Avenue; the great beech avenue running through Chase Woods.

 

Ooh!

Ooh, this is the third or forth morning in row now that we've had a fairly hard dusting of frost. I'm glad I've not got anything in the ground yet down the lotty; the last few years of increasingly predictable unpredictable weather has taught me that early planting isn't necessarily the good strategy is was.

Backley

The Sun may have been out over the forest this morning, and lovely it was too; the winds though were bitter, coldest for a while I reckon. With the beautiful days we've enjoyed recently it's been easy to imagine winter vanquished; it isn't though, and we should remember we're not yet beyond the reach of winter's icy fingers.

The Ebble Valley

 

View over the Ebble Valley from South Down on the Ridge Way ox drove.

Walking through the history

Another early start found us in the Chase again; another traverse of the Ebble Valley, a completely different route from last week though, and slightly shorter at 12.7 miles. Walking these chalk downland tracts you know you're walking through the history. From earliest prehistory Cranborne Chase has drawn folk to it; there's evidence for Mesolithic hunter gathers having a substantial presence here; early Neolithic farmers created a ritual landscape rich in monuments; by the Bronze Age agrarian settlements and field systems are well established and this continues through the Iron Age with the addition of Hillforts; the Romans farmed here; many of the current villages and hamlets began life during the Saxon period; the Medieval period added hunting forests; since then farming in one form or another has continued to dominate, and the landscape and life of the chase changed little until the 20th century. And you see that patina of human endeavour spanning millennia etched into this landscape wherever you look; you can't help but feel the ancestors when you're walking the rough tracks countless generations walked before you. The chase is a landscape soaked with history; and some of the best walking you'll find.

Wooden deer

A wooden doe suns herself amongst Holiday Hill's stands.

Nearly groundhog sunset

Another mellow sunset from Barton on Sea. I'm always banging on about how every sunset is unique, how you'll never see 'that' sunset again, and of course that's true; but beyond some richer hues of colour, there was more than a passing resemblance between this evening's and last evening's sunsets.

Purbeck Wall Lizard

The Wall Lizard (Podarcis muralis) isn't one of our native reptile species, although there are now several colonies dotted around Southern England, especially Purbeck, and climate change is encouraging their flourishing; Winspit Quarry has had a healthy colony since the mid 80's. I've read two accounts of how these reptiles arrived in Purbeck; either they escaped from a local breeder/owner, or were purposely bred and released.  Whichever, they're certainly established now.  I don't know how the other colonies are doing, but the Winspit massive appears to be thriving; we saw dozens of wall lizards, and the undergrowth sounded alive with them. 

Winspit

Destination Purbeck again this morning, this time the post industrial landscape of Winspit. I don't know when it began operations, though until 1940 Winspit was a a stone quarry producing high quality stone for use in important London buildings. Over the years it's been a location for numerous TV and film projects including Dr Who, most recently for one of the forthcoming Star Wars series 'Andor' set before the events of 'Rogue One'. Winspit is a rugged terrain of dangerous caves, mining waste and rocky cliffs. All the works of man haven't been able to tame or take the wild from this landscape, it's magnificent; beautiful on a sunny day like today, awe inducing in a storm, and always atmospheric.

Sunset

This evening's sunset from Barton on Sea.

Cranborne Chase

 

It was destination Cranborne Chase this morning, an early start too, and it was glorious; a 14.7 mile traverse of the Ebble Valley in the best early spring has to offer; we were out early enough that we didn't see another soul until nearly halfway through our walk, and no more than a handful throughout our journey. I value all the seasons and their varied aspects, though for me the it has to be spring and autumn that I most enjoy and connect with; the energy of spring is particularly tangible, and visible in every corner of the landscape. Following ancient droves, tracks and paths we wound our way down through, across, and up the other side of the beautiful Ebble Valley. By the time we reached Chiselbury Camp Iron Age Hillfort on the Old Shaftesbury Drove the sun 's warmth had wrestled victory from the early morning chill, and it felt as if all nature rejoiced; I certainly did. Sat on Chiselbury camp's defencive bank we had clear views across the lovely Nadder Valley, Salisbury in one direction Shaftesbury in the other. Above us in a clear blue sky half a dozen birds of prey circled gracefully as they eyed breakfast, most striking though was the Skylark song which filled the air above the camp and surrounding grass downland. We could've sat here all day, it was a perfect English rural scene; though we weren't finished, and it was back down to Broad Chalke and a welcome dip in and drink from the Ebble for Geoff, then the long climb back up to the Ridgeway and journey's end. All achieved before midday; nice. 

Keep walkin

'Keep Walkin' carved in what felt like sinister font into a veteran tree aside the Old Salisbury Drove; encouragement or a warning I thought? This is the countryside after all, 'gat off moi land' and all that; so with that in mind we continued on our way......toot suite.

Spring Equinox

 

Light's been in ascendance since the Sun's return at the Winter Solstice, and now the Sun's reign begins proper. With growing warmth everything throughout nature stirs; verdant new shoots reach for the sky as spring blooms and blossoms; across the open fields hares box and race; in the forest the mares will soon be giving birth; whist the chorus of excited song from hedgerow and canopy is universal. An equinox blessing to y'all at this moment of awakening; game's on.

Fresh greens

Events of recent years have shown us that the food security we take for granted is far more fragile than I think anyone thought; it's time to start thinking about putting old skool back on the menu. There's a natural larder out there. Take Nettles (Urtica dioica), they're delicious, nutritious and versatile, they're abundant and they're free, and now is the perfect time to start collecting them; cook as greens from fresh or dry as vegetable/seasoning (Nori-ish) for soups Et al. Every little helps.  

Chapmans Pool to St Aldhelm's Head and back again; part 3, Emmetts Hill

Rested and St Aldhelm's Head conquered, it was time for the return leg of the walk. The views from St Aldhelm's Head along the Jurassic coast are outstanding; different headlands and coastal features highlighting the regions unique geological mix of limestones, chalks, clays and sands; a World Heritage Site after all. You'd have hoped that reaching the top of the head the walking thereafter would all be relatively level, but you'd be mistaken; first the two huge sets of stairs that run down, through, and up the other side of a steep sided valley between St Aldhelm's Head and Emmetts Hill had to be conquered. The stairs down are one thing, the stairs up are something else; though once completed the remainder of the walk is a cakewalk; follow the well trodden cliff top path that winds around Emmett's Hill, and take in the lovely vista of Chapmans Pool and the coast beyond as you go. At just 4 miles, not a long walk; although beyond the very beginning and the Emmett's Hill section, it was technical and challenging throughout. You can't beat walking in Purbeck for blowing away the cobwebs.

Chapmans Pool to St Aldhelm's Head and back again; part 2, St Albhelm's Head

 

If I thought the under-cliff around Chapmans Pool was difficult terrain I was in for a shock; the terrain on the second portion of my walk upped the ante somewhat. I continued along the shoreline, rather than the escarpment route; a decision which in retrospect I came to regret. There'd been a fair amount of slippage and collapse, and most of my passage around the coast was over and through various sized boulders and loose rock; it was quite intense going, and looking at my course ahead I began to question how sensible my choice of path had been...of course, the alternative could've been just as problematic. As it happened, the climb up the escapement wasn't much better; jumping between bramble and ivy covered boulders, gave way to loose wobbling rocks and shifting rock scree; by the time I'd reached the top of the escarpment I'd got all hot under the collar (I'm not good with heights; sometimes worse than others...today was a 'sometimes worse' day); everything appeared steeper today, more extreme, more sketchy than I remembered. I'd intended to explore and chill for a while before I undertook the last climb up out of the quarry, although I scrubbed that deciding instead to make the climb right now; I feared it may have become insurmountable in my mind, and I didn't relish retracing my steps. Even though I'd taken this route hundreds of times before, and it's not particularly difficult, the ascent was made challenging by my over-thinking of it; still, in the end I made short shrift of it and after scrambling and reaching the quarry top lay in the hot sun catching my breath, my hands shaking. A bit of adventure.

Chapmans Pool to St Aldhelm's Head and back again; part1, Chapman's Pool

 

It was destination Purbeck this morning; to be specific Chapmans Pool and St Aldhelm's Head. An age old track leads down through Hill Bottom to the rocky cove of Chapmans Pool; where you'll find a couple of fisherman's huts clustered around a small slipway and sea wall. Like many of the spots along this section of the Jurassic Coast it's a picturesque pearl set in a rugged forbidding landscape. My route this morning was going to be along the coastline out to St Aldhelm's  Head, and along the cliff top back. As long as I can remember there's been a winding path which wound through the rough grass and tenacious shrub of the under cliff just above the rocky shore (the term 'path' is used loosely); in recent years erosion appears to have done for a lot of the path, making for a difficult traverse; it's surprising how much this apparently timeless landscape can change in just a couple or so years. One aspect that hadn't changed was the towering cliff capped escarpment that dominates Chapmans Pool, it still looked magnificent; I've roamed this Jurassic island for decades, and over those years my wonder at the majesty of the place has not dulled. I'm sure in time a new route along the under cliff will develop; in the meantime the broken and uneven rocky terrain is more full body workout than walk. One observation I made was that I didn't see a single piece of rubbish on this portion of my walk; of course it could've been that all my senses were engaged it keeping myself upright, though I think not, there was just no shit on the shore...which was nice.

March Moon

Another full moon, and another perfect evening for a full moon fire.

Burley Old

Burley Old