Spring's sprung

 

Water bubbling up through one of the forestry tracks; it was so wet out in the forest this morning that as rain fell from above springs sprung from below.

Knowlton

Knowlton Church through it's arches.

Badbury Rings

Locally we're blessed with numerous Iron Age hillforts, many of them notable examples of their type. Badbury Rings is one of them, an exceptional site in fact. The site has been the focus of human activity for over 4000 years; beyond the Iron Age hillfort itself you've a scatter of Bronze Age barrows, a confluence of Roman roads, a Romano-British temple, a nearby Roman-British town, a post Roman stronghold, a suggested site of the fabled battle of Mount Badon, the meeting place of The Clubmen in 1645 during the Civil War and the site of a large transmitter mast in World War Two; today though it's a quiet romantic spot, a jewel in the rolling Dorset landscape, and a haven for wild flora and fauna. Well worth a visit.

Someone is always watching

 

Forestry England are undertaking a wildlife survey, I've spotted a few trail cams through Highland Water Enclosure. The ones I've come across are sited adjacent to waterways, positioned with views of prominent crossing places; fallen trees and alike.  I'd love to see the images they capture. I think we'd be surprised at the creatures we share the forest with; I'd love to see a range of species re-established and their communities flourish. 

First rose

 

The Primrose (Primula vulgaris), don't you just love them, they have the power to always lift the spirit.

Camel Green

One of the seasonal watercourses that appear periodically through Camel Green. We'd not walked this way in a while (not since the New Forest National Parks Authority blocked off the popular lay-by which allowed easy access to this roam) and I was taken by the startling number of large trees slighted since we were last here.

Late to the game

 

Just as the buds begin to fatten, and the canopy prepares to come into leaf, a touch late the forest finely looks comfortable with being wet. It's been another in a growing parade of weird weather winters; no rhyme or reason to the weather, instead a constant whack a mole of unrelated weather types.

Gad Cliff

Gad Cliff from Worbarrow Tout. The coastline below Gad Cliff is permenantly off limits, never accessible to the public, and even if it was I don't imagine anyone beyond the most determined walkers would entertain it; it's a challenging landscape of slips, scree, sucking mud and irregular boulders, with only animal tracks available to you as passage. A properly wild stretch of the Jurassic coast.   

Tyneham Valley

Through a cutting in the outer rampart and ditch defensives of Flowers Barrow (an ancient Iron Age hillfort) you get your first glimpse of the magical Tyneham Valley beyond; a spectacular view of a landscape frozen in time. I love views like this. The severity of your descent just beyond the rampart can be challenging, although nowhere as challenging as the ascent is.

Purbeck

My first outing to the Jurassic Coast this year, and what a lovely day it was too; made even more pleasing being accompanied by two very good friends who I'd not walked with for 3 and 9 years respectively. Back in the day Purbeck was our crews' regular Sunday playground; the adventures we had, the laughs, the situations we found ourselves in... someone/something must have been watching over us. One of the beautiful things about meeting up with really good old friends, beyond just being with them, is it's as if no time as passed at all, and an exquisite comfortableness rules; a priceless respite from our jarring, fragmented and f*cked up world. 

Red Rise

 

The forest has welcomed the rain.

Cash crop

Reminders that the forest which I love so much exists only at the whim and hand of man; created by, managed and manicured by man, and that it remains a going concern are common.  This block in Dames Slough enclosure which was clear cut harvested a few years back is being replanted; I don't know yet whether it'll be a deciduous or coniferous block, but it's being quite tightly planted, only a fraction of the plot has been staked and already there are hundreds of stakes; when we passed the was just one guy working on the project too.

Dem bones

 

It's not common to find bones naturally occurring amongst the branches of trees; without a doubt the hand of man has been at play. Why though? You'll regularly see bones and skulls purposely placed in trees around the forest, and in woods more generally. What's the meaning, is there 'a' meaning? I think it's playing out subconscious ancestral memory, though the reason for the behaviour is long lost, the echo of an older practice and a want to perform rite remains. Or of course it could merely be the result of a fleeting whim. Still, makes you think.

Antz

 

It doesn't take much Sun to wake the wood ants (Formica rufa), and the inhabitants of every ant hill we passed this morning were all wide awake.

Anderwood

 

Anderwood

 

Itchy

The pony purposefully first bent over and then straddled the sapling conifer in pursuit of relief; moving in ways familiar to everyone who's suffered an itch, there were points where she clearly hit the spot, the expression was unmistakable. This went on for several minutes until with itch satisfied she rejoined her waiting companions and disappeared into the stands; as for the tree, it was still regaining it's composure when we left it. I bet the tree wasn't expecting that.

Rainbow moon

 

The feint rainbow effect around the near full moon this evening gave the moon an appearance similar to the Helix Nebula. Well I thought so anyway. 

Latchmore Brook

Like the other forest streams Latchmore Brook is showing a lot more gravelly bottom than you'd expect for the time of year; it's not so much the exposed gravel itself, the flow of the forest's waterways fluctuate with the weather, it's rather the scale and duration of the exposures;  a reflection of the continuing dry weather.  That aside, the stands through which the brook travels are, in my opinion, some the best woodland walking of the forest; replete with dells and groves all connected by myriad winding paths, it's woodland to lose yourself in.  

Moving in

This is a good sign. There used to be an active Badger sett here, although I've not seen a badger or any sign of one in maybe twenty years. It's a place we pass regularly and I've kept my eye open, though over the years the numerous entrances to their sett have become filled with season upon season of leaf litter and debris, now hardly visible. It's looking like a new clan could be moving it though.

Dockens Water

 

Dockens Water

The night conceals

 

'The night conceals the World, but reveals the universe.'

A lovely thought; and apt for the forest sky too.

Dry Winter

 

It's been a dry winter to date. Normally this time of the year the ground would yield easily underfoot, you'd be dodging mud and puddles, avoiding the forest's lowlands and considering where/if you'd be able to cross any of the streams; not so this year though.

Uber Water

I thought it would be a good idea to walk along Uber Water between the two Rhinefield/Cumber footbridges. It wasn't. It began nice and all, and for a good distance was easy pleasant grassy walking; then we entered the stretch where Duck Hole Bog bleeds into the stream, and it ended with me having to wade through Uber Water, then walking some distance barefoot through wet heath before I could put my boots back on. You know, I knew it would end like that too, experience told me so, and yet I continued knowing my route meant I couldn't backtrack. Chump.  

Dockens Water

Our walk this morning was our longest so far this year at 14.4 miles, and saw us ranging widely across the northern part of the forest; taking in the wonders on offer we roamed through open woodlands and formal plantation, exposed plains and sheltered lowland wet heath, and of course a number of babbling brooks. The view here is from Red Shoot Plain towards Dockens Water and Ibsley Common beyond. I've not walked this way for some years; it's good walking, with fine views across the Northwest of the forest and as far as the Ridgeways of Cranborne Chase and Wiltshire.

Ibsley Common WW2 monuments

 

The New Forest has had a long and varied history (and prehistory) of human activity, the evidence of which can be seen through a range of features from lumps and bumps in the ground to more substantial monuments. Here on Ibsley Common a pair of related Second World War monuments; the remnants of a World War Two Radio Direction Finding Station. The station, one of three spaced around the nearby Ibsley Airfield, all issued the same frequency, navigational aids allowing pilots to determined their position. The remains are a hexagonal blast wall for a long gone wooden tower, surrounded by small concrete blocks representing compass points, and the foundations of a rectangular brick building adjacent to an underground air raid shelter; the shelter used to be filled by rubble, although since I last passed this way it's been cleared. An interesting site.

MIstletoe

The forest's deciduous trees are still naked, making any clumps of Mistletoe visible from quite a distance. Have you ever seen Mistletoe like this though, it's host fades before it's glory; largest community I've seen. Wonderful.

Frogspawn

You're starting to see more frogspawn appearing in the forest's ponds and smaller waterways. It's amazing the volumes of spawn produced, made me wonder how many frogs there were out there; so I looked into it. A female frog can produce 4,000 eggs in a season, so you'd imagine healthy communities, sadly no, across the UK Common Frog populations which began falling in the 70's have declined 68% in the last 30 years. Bit of a bummer.

Crocus

With the fading days of winter upon us, the vibrant colours of spring are beginning to shine through, colours made even more vivid in the muted hued landscape winter leaves in it's wake.

Elephant or Rhino?

What do you see? An elephant or a Rhino? Or maybe something else.

A change of tune

 

The times they are a changing, and the nature of birdsong has definitely changed in recent days; gone are the subdued mournful songs of winter, songs much brighter are being sung in the canopy today. There's an air of anticipation and excitement amongst the chorus; I feel it too, I think we all do, Spring approaches, the game is nearly on.

Gravelly rumble

 

I was surprised when we reached the cliff top this morning to see that beyond the last few meters the sea was near still, quite the contrast to what I expected; you could hear the gravelly rumble of the waves rushing the beach from the common, a mile or so away. The wind must've been blowing in the right direction or something.

Dalek geoglyph

 

This rare prehistoric geoglyph of a Dalek left by a long gone ancient nomadic people is surely evidence of alien visitation. Come on, it's gotta be?

Full Moon

Full moon

Nothing to see here

 

Cranes Moor is on the eastern edge of the Forest, a beautiful landscape of lowland and wet heath with islands capped with coniferous clumps. Not so long ago overhead cables blighted this view, nothing to see here now though. Recently the creosoted poles taken down, the cabling having been removed, and the views are all the better for it. Lovely.

Gone

 

Relic of a bygone age, a remnant of an integrated mass transit system the like of which we can only dream of enjoying today, and yet one we so desperately need. Even after Beeching cut this line in the 60's I remember in my childhood an integrated public transport network of buses and trains that allowed for effective and affordable travel around the country; sadly the trajectory since then for public transport has been one of death by a thousand cuts. Made me think more broadly about how much our society's lost; or more accurately what we once enjoyed, the things we used to take for granted, the raft of public services, the culture, the communities and a myriad of opportunities; we were rich by so many metrics. Time's not been kind to our society though has it, it's a much thinner space we navigate today.

Imbolc

 

Right on cue the new shoots of spring break on through.

Imbloc blessing y'all /|\ 

Blase

 

We live with beauty on our doorstep, still it's so easy to become blasé about your surroundings isn't it, taking them for granted and failing to appreciate their qualities; familiarity breeds complacency/contempt maybe? I sometimes find myself looking to walk somewhere, anywhere, else except on my doorstep; and when I get like that I reach for a specific memory to remind me. Years ago whilst chatting in a post Office in Cornwall, the local I was conversing with on discovering where we'd come from began to wax lyrical about their holidays to Highcliffe and how they love the place, listing numerous positive points; and it struck me that they were the same enthusiastic tones I'd use waxing lyrically about our much loved trips to Cornwall; made me look at the many blessings of our home roam differently, appreciatively.  Sometimes I still need reminding.

The Run

Living by the coast in an area seasonally popular with tourists you have to share; half a year belongs to the 'grockles' and the other half is ours, I'm happy to share, I don't begrudge them. We've until Easter to take advantage of the empty beaches, and no matter what the weather a walk on the beach is guaranteed to be glorious.

Alder carr

 

Alder (Alnus glutinosa) carr is common along some stretches of the forest's streams; take a closer look and you'll often spot that many of these trees show evidence of past coppicing, a common forestry practice. Back in World War Two the forest's Alder was called to national service, and were mass harvested in order to be turned into high grade charcoal for the 40 million gas masks required to protect the nation...that's a lot of charcoal. Charcoal production is one of the oldest of the forest industries, an important activity it was practiced throughout history; a tradition which continues in the forest today, albeit on a vastly reduced scale today at Pondhead.

Holmhill

 

Holmhill woods