Tag: fallen trees

Ecological Contributions

Mum was on very good form when we visited her at Woodpeckers at midday. Her thoughts and stories flowed and her hearing and sight were not too bad. We could forgive her for repeating some tales. Her one and only flight to Jersey with Jacqueline some years ago was a new one.

From Brockenhurst we continued along Rhinefield Road to the Ornamental Drive which, Easter Holidays still in progress, was visited by

plenty of walkers and cyclists.

Some families remained at Blackwater car park with its picnic benches and where the delighted cries of children playing among the trees syncopated with melodious birdsong. Of course, when occupied with ice lollies, this little group had no capacity for shrieking.

While Jackie waited patiently in the Modus, I focussed on reflections in and ripples on the stream; tangled, exposed, tree roots; the trunk of one giant redwood, and shadows of others.

Moving further along the road, my Chauffeuse parked on the verge while I wandered among dry, rustling, autumn leaves, bracken and pony droppings; fallen, decomposing, timber; and lichen coated twigs, each making their own

contribution to the refurbishment of the forest floor.

Some of the dead trees are taking a number of years to disintegrate, and there is quite a range of colours in the blending and contrasting animals.

For dinner this evening Jackie produced tangy lemon chicken with her wholesome savoury egg fried rice. We both drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc.

Sylvan Ecology

This morning we visited Lidl for a big shop. The Caterer in Chief donned a mask, entered the supermarket, and returned with a trolley load of goods while I sat in the car and read until it was time for me to assist with loading the purchases into the boot. When we arrived home I unloaded the Modus. Jackie was meant to have a rest at this point, but she started unpacking the bags before preparing lunch which I helped her eat.

After lunch we took a forest drive.

As we entered the Rhinefield Ornamental Drive, piles of sawn body parts of a huge shallow-rooted oak tree that had succumbed to the recent storm prompted me to ask my Chauffeuse to park on the verge so I could create pictures. As we will see, the rich red tones of freshly sawn living wood will soon adopt more subdued hues. In fact I suspect that some of this material will be sold to craftspeople for the creation of furniture or ornaments such as the the mushrooms made for Jackie by Matthew Chalk of https://www.blackstone-chalk.co.uk

The rest may be left in situ to return in time to the soil from which it sprang. The woodland along the Drive is littered with trees in various stages of decomposition; the forest floor demonstrates how fallen timber is eventually overcome by moss as it sinks into the ground creating a bas-relief of its living form, blending with fallen leaves. The last image in this gallery clearly shows the process. Numerous insects are nurtured by the generated matter.

The droppings deposited by the ponies foraging nearby make their own plentiful contributions.

We encountered similar scenes on the road to Linwood. One of the ponies bore battle scars. I was somewhat surprised, when photographing the white-maned creature, to turn and find a bay right behind me breathing down my neck. Much to Jackie’s amusement, I backed off rapidly.

Although dry, the day had not been bright and was increasingly overcast by the time we reached Appleslade, where ponies,

a couple necking in the open, stood out on the hillside.

This evening we dined on a rack of ribs in barbecue sauce; Jackie’s savoury rice topped with a fluffy omelette; and fresh salad, with which I drank more of the Cabernet Sauvignon.

Rolling Over And Thinking About It

This morning I watched the Channel 4 broadcast from Ahmedabad of the last rites of the English Cricket tour of India.

Soon after lunch we visited the pharmacy at Milford on Sea, then drove into the forest.

At Norleywood Car Park we found I was not the only person interested in photographing the wild life. The gentleman in the last two images in this gallery adopted an enviable position from which to obtain his pictures. I was happy to explain to the woman in the first three photographs the story of

the Shetland ponies, which cropped the grass,

ignoring the fallen trees.

Along the road to Beaulieu, many of the trees stand in nature’s water buckets throughout the winter.

Perhaps the ponies gathered here today wished to be near their water source.

I really identified with the seated pony in the final image of the above gallery. All these equine adults when seeking to rise to their feet adopt the practice of first rolling over and thinking about it before stiffly staggering up. This, of course, is why I found the earlier photographer’s position enviable.

Driving along Saint Leonard’s Road past a waterlogged verge, Jackie noticed that the recent drop in the water level had left the surface algae drying on reflected bramble washing lines. These are her pictures;

these are mine.

At the corner of Saint Leonard’s and Norleywood Roads a pony drinking gazpacho soup took umbrage at my attention, shook her head, and sped off into the gorse.

It was a rather startled cockerel that I photographed along South Baddersley Road. Seconds earlier he had been canoodling with a group of guinea fowl. When I unsuccessfully attempted to focus on them they took off, loudly flapping and squawking. He must have wondered what he had done to upset them.

This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, pickled onions, and wallies, with which we finished the Sauvignon Blanc.

Defying Gravity

A leaden canopy stretched over our skies throughout the albeit warmer day.

During my running days I would often allow the flow of traffic to determine my route. Nowadays it is sometimes the flow of ponies. So it was this afternoon.

There wasn’t much point in staying in the Modus as an equine quartet idled their way along

Mill Lane, so I disembarked and followed them on foot while Jackie turned into a car park.

They soon turned off into a muddy field which they set about cropping. Apart from the quagmire there were plentiful heaps of pony droppings requiring negotiation and the land was attached to the Mill Lawn Sewage Pumping Station. I therefore didn’t follow them too closely, but turned my attention to other ponies.

This shaggy one was close at hand;

others more distant.

There were a number of small groups of walkers about the forest, like these, catching up and joining their dogs who waited by a bridge across

the weedy stream.

bearing reflections across which trees had fallen.

In fact it seems at the moment as if there are more arboreal carcasses littering the forest than still standing trees.

Nevertheless some mossy roots still hold firm on banks of streams,

and these lichen covered branches seem to defy gravity. The third of these photographs was produced by Jackie.

This evening we dined on more of Jackie’s delicious, spicy, pasta arrabbiata with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Torre de Ferro Reserva Dao 2017.

Taking A Chance

There is a direct path from the kitchen window featuring our late beloved blogging friend, Pauline’s, light catcher to my computer station.

The light prism cast by this often accompanies me as it did this morning – a comforting reminder of a lovely lady.

After a reading session this afternoon Jackie drove me to Puttles Bridge so I could walk

along the Ober Water Trail. There were very few other walkers; only the barking of dogs disturbed the otherwise silent solitude. Fallen and broken trees, some across the stream, others sporting graffiti, gave evidence of the recent heavy winds. Leaves floated in the rippling water until coming to rest at a log dam; beneath my feet acorns nestled among exposed sylvan roots. The red and yellow notches in the various posts along the way signified the length one could choose to walk, red for one mile and a half, yellow for one mile. It is only when you near the one mile bridge that the path offers a glimpse of the water reflecting the surrounding woodland. When I first took this walk at the beginning of the year I didn’t have the energy to approach the stream for pictures such as these. Today this seemed not far enough just to turn round and retrace my steps.

I therefore decided to take a chance on the path across the bridge at one mile linking up with another path leading from Puttles Bridge.

It didn’t. It took me up a slope offering silhouettes of walkers and ponies. and leading to a closed visitor centre.

Looking back at the tree line tracking Ober Water I set off across the tufted, often soggy, terrain, avoiding heaps of pony droppings, trying neither to trip over clumpy shrubbery nor sink into boggy bits, and eventually finding the location of the Puttles Bridge area.

Feeling on my last legs this is what I met.

I then had to scramble my way across to the road and take the long way back to the Modus. By the time I had reached the entrance to the car park I was so obviously knackered that it was necessary to persuade a party of four leaving the car park that I did not need them to turn round and drive me the last fifty yards or so. The trek had lasted 70 minutes.

This evening we enjoyed a dinner of Jackie’s most flavoursome sausage casserole; creamy mashed potato; tender runner beans; crunchy carrots and firm broccoli, with which I drank more of the Cotes du Rhone and Jackie didn’t.

Relaxed Restrictions

Late yesterday afternoon, beginning with

“Where’s Nugget?” (78), Jackie produced a series of photographs.

She was fascinated by the hairy borage

and a spiky caterpillar masquerading as a cactus.

Clematis Star of India occupies the wisteria arbour

through which is framed her favourite view of the garden. Left of centre, the Chilean lantern tree was lit by the evening sun.

Late this afternoon today, following the relaxed lockdown rules Jackie drove me to Bisterne Close along which I walked for 40 minutes before she picked me up and we returned home.

Unbeknown to each of us The Assistant Photographer and I focussed on the same subjects

 


Here we have tree fungus -Jackie’s

and mine.

To the right of this young female jogger stands a tree marked

for foresters’ attention, as in my photographs.

This would be too late for fallen (mine)

or broken (Jackie’s) trees.

One runner was exercising himself and his dog;

other people took a more leisurely pace.

I enjoyed a pleasant conversation with the friendly woman who kept the required distance from the runner and his pooch shown above.

There was much blooming rhododendron Ponticum along the lane.

Casting its shadow, a dark brown pony left a group ahead of me.

These wallowed in what, when we were last here, was a waterlogged verge.

Our final coincidental subject was the last of these ponies who, by the time Jackie approached was reaching for drier fodder.

We passed another pony on our way back along Bennetts Lane.

Golfers are now free to play on the Burley Course.

More ponies frequent the moors of Holmsley Passage.

This evening, along with her exquisite savoury rice, Jackie produced a variety of prawns: tempura; salt and pepper; and hot and spicy; and small vegetable spring rolls. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the El Zumbido Garnacha Syrah.

Jackie’s Photo Story

This afternoon, while I was focussing on scenes of destruction, Jackie was producing her own set of me in action.

She began with my attention to the waves at Milton on Sea,

and progressed to picturing my descent down the undulating soggy slopes into the woods for my own photoshoot.

 

Here is her take on one of the fallen trees that I showed.

As she pointed out, this is a tree that must have fallen across the road, as indicated by sawn logs at one side and piled branches on the other.

 

Scenes Of Devastation

We were promised further heavy winds today. They were postponed until tonight, which may explain why we saw no free roaming animals on our trip to the forest.

On our way to the Milford pharmacy we stopped to watch

the waves surging with spray and crashing on rocks as they practised for the races they would be engaged in later.

Although shifting the lens just a few degrees to the right gave streaks of sunlight on the horizon,

the Isle of Wight remained invisible to the eye, despite a glimmer of blue sky, and enough light to catch the

lifebelt on a post.

Afterwards we progressed to Boldrewood via Lymington. Traffic lights on Southampton Road facilitated my photographing this pink magnolia set against the blue wash and fine Georgian window of an elegant terraced house of the period.

On the approach to Boldre Lane a couple of field horses showed eagerness to see what was occurring over their hedge.

The woodland itself presented

scenes of devastation such as are in evidence throughout the forest.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, pickled onions and gherkins with which we both drank Wairau Cove Sauvignon Blanc 2019.

Jackie’s photo story from this afternoon warrants a separate post which forms a sequel to this one.

 

Arboreal Destruction

Precipitation of varying velocity and winds of unwavering ferocity beset the day.

This morning we drove to the outskirts of Burley and back.

It is not unusual to be held up by tree cutters carrying out routine arboreal management. This is perhaps more frequent at the moment, as the unrelenting recent series of storms have taken their toll.

Here, on Holmsley Road, overhanging branches were being lopped . Especially in the pouring rain, I do sympathise with the men supporting the Stop/Go lollipops. I hope they take it in turns. Jackie let me out of the car when we were stopped and took the first photograph through the windscreen before passing the barrier. I walked, and took the second. The men were somewhat concerned that I might not stay on my feet.

The gentleman doing the lopping was happy to pose for a rear view.

Further along the road I wondered whether that team had earlier attended to this fallen tree

which attracted a trio of ponies seeking fresh nutriment from the lichen coated branches.

The last time I photographed this dead oak tree with its fungus and lichen on Bisterne Close it was standing firm.

It stands no more,

its shallow roots ripped into open air. This giant will now gradually take its part  in the maintenance of the forest ecology, feeding insects, plants, and soil for years to come.

Given its position on the verge it did well to fall away from the road.

The rain really hammered down on our return home. A group of stoic ponies alongside  Holmsley Passage simply stood and bore it.

This evening we dined on second helpings of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare with which Jackie finished the Sauvignon Blanc and I finished the Shiraz.

 

Sylvan Ecology

This morning we shopped at

Setley Ridge Garden Centre for

a birthday present, and continued to Rhinefield Ornamental Drive where Jackie parked in Blackwater Car Park while I

followed a group of younger walkers,

who were soon out of sight,

into the forest,

which is strewn with arboreal detritus

in various stages of contribution to the sylvan ecological system.

Some of the giant conifers bear wrinkled leathern skins;

Bright green mosses cling to weathered stumps

and gnarled roots sprinkled with

last autumn’s fallen foliage,

some of which soaks into the wetter tracts rent by underground streams.

More recently toppled trees

still bear their shallow roots demonstrating what easy prey they are to heavy winds.

It may have been my conversation with a couple walking two small dogs that caused me to miss my mental milestone at which I intended to retrace my steps. I sailed on past it. This extended a 30 minute walk by 15 minutes. Too much for my knees.

As I staggered back into the Modus Jackie pointed to a Just Married message on the rear window of the vehicle alongside us. Wherever they were hiding, I hadn’t seen them.

On our return home we we unable to exit Vaggs Lane because there had clearly been an accident which had blocked the road. As far as we could tell before we turned around, a small car had managed to become sandwiched between a couple of OpenReach vans. A police car arrived while we were reversing.

After lunch we finished our shopping at Otter Nursery. Later, I succumbed to persuasion from various sources and we watched episodes 8 and 9 of series 2 of The Crown. I’m still not comfortable by the dubious intrusive nature of the presentation but I have to admit it is good drama and the history is like tracking back into our own lifetime.

This evening we dined on Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare with which Jackie finished the Suvignon Blanc and I finished the Cabernet Sauvignon.