Tag: woodland

Woodland Ecology 2023

Knowing that our comparatively sunny morning would become less pleasant during the afternoon, we followed a Tesco shopping trip with a forest drive.

The recent damp weather has added layers of moss to the decaying fallen wood gradually playing its part in forestry ecology. From the Mill Lawn car park I wandered just a few surrounding yards to record some of the changes since the larger trees first fell a year or so ago.

Clopping on the tarmac and thudding on the terrain, a motley variety of ponies wandered along and across Forest Road.

This evening we dined on the core of Jackie’s chicken and vegetable stewp with the addition of fresh ingredients that developed the taste. I finished the Shiraz and no-one else wanted any.

Find The Pig

Toys were having fun on this morning’s forest drive.

Horses’ heads peered over a fence at Winsor; an elephant perched with blanket on a postbox alongside Deazle Wood,

where a solitary sow vacuumed acorns beneath an oak tree. Can you spot her in the first of these three pictures?

The ancient bank behind the postbox exposing raised roots separates the fields from the woodland,

which has its share of arboreal casualties, sometimes sporting bracket fungus.

Mossy roots abound.

A shallow pool manages to reflect the trees above.

On the road to Bramshaw ponies foraged down a dry ditch opposite a sow with her numerous offspring who eventually trotted off after her into the woodland.

Beside the church a grey pony squeezed herself between a fence and an oak tree.

This evening we all dined on Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare.

“Can We Come And Play”

After a Tesco shop later this afternoon, Jackie and I took a forest drive.

As I photographed a pony by Wootton stream, she moved away from a warning sign about keeping distance and not interfering with the animals.

I turned to photograph a system of roots just as a French gentleman entered the picture. He was very happy to have been included. This led to an opportunity for each us to practice our Franglais, although this became a little too much for his wife and two children, who, nevertheless did join in with some amusement – enough for me to have managed at least one intelligible bilingual pun. My acquaintance wanted to know all about the animals, their ownership, control, etc. In particular, I was able to speak about all aspects of the aforementioned warning sign. Explaining the evident ribs in the animals was interesting. Wolves, wild boar, and badgers were also subjects of interest.

We drove on to Bisterne Close where, while photographing a pony, I met a man who told me of a stallion who had gathered together a harem of 28 mares, where I should find some interesting photographs. I followed his clear directions until I found

the scene of the gathering, which had clearly moved on. Hoofprints had disappeared into a muddy reflecting pool.

I transferred my sights to the woodland, with its fallen trees, its shadows, moss, and catkins writhing on the ground or hanging from the trees.

Some way along the Burley Road towards the A35,

we spied a pony and foal in a distant field.

Further inspection revealed another horse and two small calves. As the bovine parents were at the far end of the field, we assumed their offspring had approached and asked “can we come and play”.

This evening we all dined on pork spare ribs in barbecue sauce and Jackie’s colourful savoury rice, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Campo Viejo Rioja 2021.

Equine Siesta

This afternoon we took a drive out to Pilley, first to book a table at Fleur de Lys, then to have another look at the new foal. The pub was no longer serving meals and would close again in two weeks until new management took over; there was no pony in sight in the village. So we were doubly disappointed yet counted our blessings for having seen the new foal yesterday.

We turned to the Red Lion to make our evening booking.

We drove on to Holmsley, where we felt sure we would see some wild life. This was not to be, and confirmed our growing feeling that ponies at least enjoy a siesta on either side of our lunchtime.

Although some could be seen on distant moorland through the trees alongside Bisterne Close, trilling birdsong was the only sign of life in the woodland.

I wandered among shade-patterned and nibbled trunks with mossy roots;

fallen tree remnants with peeling bark;

decaying branches contributing to the ecology;

and a teepee erected as a shelter for small creatures of all kinds.

The seasonal pond now sports flowing kingcups and iris shoots.

By the time we returned home via Holmsley Passage the previously empty gorse landscapes were populated by grazing ponies, others of

which foraged among grasses on the lower slopes.

The postbox outside the cottage on Wootton Road is ready for the weekend’s Coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camilla.

This evening we all dined on excellent fare with friendly service at the aforementioned Red Lion at Pilley where Flo and I enjoyed battered haddock, chips, and peas; Jackie, Cajun chicken burger, chips, and salad; and Dillon steak and ale pie; we all shared onion rings. Jackie and Dillon drank Peroni; Flo, Apple juice; and I, Ringwoods forty-niner. We then returned home for Flo’s delicious banana cake and clotted cream.

A Frantic Baaing

The day began in fairly bright sunshine and gradually deteriorated in afternoon rain which didn’t bother me because I was watching the BBC transmission of the Six Nations rugby match between Scotland and Ireland.

Before then Jackie and I took a forest drive.

Suggesting that they may have heard the weather forecast, most ponies appeared to be staying safely hidden until we arrived at

Charles’s Lane and its accompanying woodland, where, accompanied by sweet birdsong sometimes competing with the clanking roar of cars crossing a cattle grid; the graunching of gear changes when suddenly encountering animals on the road; the whirring of bicycle wheels; the thudding of hooves on the turf or their clanking on the tarmac, a small group foraged until, as we left the vicinity, they decided to meander off ahead of us.

When Jackie parked the Modus against the entrance to a farm field so that I could photograph

daffodils on the verge of Beckley Common Road

the air was rent by a frantic baaing as a flock of sheep dashed from the far side of their pasture towards the restraining wire, no doubt in the disappointed expectation of feeding time.

After the match, I recovered the pictures and provided headers for the following posts featuring our arrival at Old Post House in April 2014:

The Final Stage

It has been long on my mind to add a category entitled Garden. This will involve renaming some Uncategorised posts, this being the first.

A Fun-Filled Adventure

The garden is mentioned in this one, yet it is far more about the practicalities of the move, so its category remains unchanged.

A Further Piece Of Quirkiness

Although the header picture is from the garden, the main thrust of the post is the same as the one above, so there is no change of category.

This evening we all dined on oven fish and chips, onion rings, garden peas, pickled onions and gherkins, with which Jackie and I both drank Poggio Civitelle Orvieto 2021.

Stirring Sounds

After lunch today Jackie and I drove to Helen and Bill’s home in Fordingbridge to deliver my sister-in-law’s birthday present. They were not home so we emulated an on-line-shopping courier and left it wrapped up in the porch.

Such is the difference between country and city dwelling that the soldiers left guarding the premises opposite have stood unmolested for months now.

Jackie photographed me photographing them and a coloured one for herself.

I converted mine to black and white.

Periodically our journey was punctuated by cawing crescendos from a plethora of raucous rookeries, like this one around the corner, where canoodling couples indulged in nest-building frenzies.

Smaller songbirds’ sweeter symphonic trilling offered a pleasant alternative in the woodland of Hale Purlieu where still shaggy ponies in their winter wear cropped the grass.

I wandered past the ponies and looked down on the woodland hill slopes before retracing my steps.

Suddenly barking, a yelp, and cries of “leave”, shattered the peace as a pack of humans, let off the leash by their assorted canines, trailed from the trees to their waiting cars.

Foaming water roared from the mill race, entering the fast flowing, lapping, tinkling, rippling, varicoloured surface of the River Avon via the Woodgreen bridge.

Such was the variety of sounds stirring this early spring day.

This evening we dined on Red Chilli’s excellent Indian takeaway with which I finished the Syrah.

Tail End Charlie

When my struggles to pay a couple of bills on line, although ultimately successful, this afternoon had reduced me to a state of apoplexy, Jackie suggested a forest drive. This seemed a good idea.

We had driven up to and beyond Penn Common without finding anything of photographic interest until we found fauna galore down

Newbridge Road, where Jackie parked the Modus and I wandered

among the cattle in the woodland where winter- shaggy curious cows and calves roamed, scratched, canoodled and occasionally disrupted traffic.

Further down the hill was the domain of ponies, also sporting their extra thick coats brought on by our recent cold spell.

A few of these had crossed the road to converse with field horses at their gate.

As we approached Bramshaw a string of Saddleback piglets escaping from a pen somewhere streamed across the road in front of us. Jackie wound down her window for me to catch them rushing by on the muddy verge. I almost missed Tail End Charlie who had put on a spurt in an attempt not to be left behind. He had even missed out on the complete colouring carried by his porcine cousins.

Later this afternoon, with the usual help from SueW, I recovered pictures to the following posts:

Frustrated
Dripping Rain
Ponies On The Road

This evening we all dined on tasty roast gammon, piquant cauliflower cheese, creamy mashed potato, crunchy carrots, tender runner beans, cabbage, and leeks , with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Coonawarra Shiraz 2021.

Hung Out To Dry

Early this morning Jackie stocked up with provisions at Ferndene Farm Shop while I sat in the car, then continued into the forest via

Beckley Common Road, which, like all lanes on this decidedly damp, drear, day bore reflecting pools along the verges,

and soggy autumn leaves there

and in the bordering woodland, where someone had hung

a pair of toys out to dry.

Equally damp were the ponies foraging alongside Forest Road.

Distant landscapes, as, for example, visible from Wilverley Road, were distinctly hazy.

Martin and his younger son, Arlo, visited briefly at lunchtime to deliver a Christmas card with a warm message, and beverages for Jackie and for me selected from information gleaned on this blog.

This evening we dined on more of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare with which I drank Gran Selone Italian red wine.

Shadow-Streaked Woodland

Although still cold, today was brighter and sunnier, casting long shadows early this afternoon, so we took a short forest drive after lunch.

Tempting me out of the car, a trio of ponies grazed or snoozed on the moorland outside Sway.

I then tramped over the shadow-streaked woodland floor featuring meandering fingers of mossy roots carpeted with golden, glinting, leaves on the approach to Bisterne Close.

This area has its share of decaying trees gradually returning to the soil;

and of scooped out bowls of winterbourne pools reflecting now skeletal trees on their surface on which float fallen leaves slowly descending like rocking canoes onto their clear beds.

Although the anonymous knitter of Pilley Street appears to have stopped decorating her letter box with the death of Queen Elizabeth, the group in Tiptoe Road are continuing their work.

This Christmas offering was rather windswept when I photographed it on our way home.

This evening we dined on tender roast lamb; crisp Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes, some softer ones being sweet; crunchy carrots; firm broccoli, Brussels sprouts, and cauliflower, and meaty gravy with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden, I drank more of the Gran Selone, and Flo and Dillon drank fruit juice cordial.