I was last in the wood for a few nights about the middle of February, since when we have had the last of the winter gales. On this trip, just for 4 nights, I was sorry to see that the weather had taken it's toll. I believe a Beech Tree lives for between 350 and 400 years and when fallen takes almost as long to decay back into the earth.
This Beech although fallen may well live on for some years yet as some of her roots are still in the bank from which she fell.
In falling she struck another Beech which has now lost the top half.
So, seedlings about the time of the Great Fire of London and perhaps gone when Men and Women commute to Mars.
Nature has wielded her axe in other places too..
Thankfully this trip was cold nights and warm sunny days when the morning mist had cleared and the Easterly wind although chill at times was without strength.
When the mist fills the wood there are just the occasional few notes of birdsong, as if all the feathered folk are holding their breath, and then when the sun lights the wood the Blue Tits, Robins and anyone with something to sing about joins in...
Home for 5 days 4 nights...
The weight of my Bergan encourages me to eat this lot as it's a 40 minute walk back to the transport and the trek in teaches me I'm not getting any younger...
....
The promise of Blue Bells looks good for this year but the wild Daffodils have beaten them to first showing.
In the early hours of the second morning I was awoken by what sounded like an Apple or Pickled Onion eating competition close outside the tent...Ha! Brock munching Blue Bell bulbs within feet of where I slept..
He's obviously a thoughtful Badger though as he's dug his latrine some distance from my camp..
After the rains of winter the boundary stream provides background music at night.
By day I track the Deer and watch the life of the wood around me..
Deer trail..
Lunch for some perhaps...Not for me..
Small Mouse...big appetite..
Day 3..Disaster..my faithful camp kettle which I cache in the wood has developed a wobbly leaking spout, so it's brew kettle to the rescue..
Nooo! Not Porridge again! I shall sack the cook I think..
The Blow Poker I made and find so useful on winter camps when the air is still and damp kindling refuses to catch easily, was not needed this trip. The Easterly wind through the wood made for easy fire lighting.
Somehow this branch has grafted itself, the triangle is without a join!
The shapes of Nature intrigue me. This Ivy has almost tied itself in knots.
Over a year ago I used Ivy to make a handle for a blade that I bought. A bolster and pommel plate from a salvaged brass finger plate off an old door, a couple of leather spacers and 3 wood screws. A few coats of Teak Oil and the knife has served me well and gets used very frequently. Ivy has it's uses..
The Holly Tree in the background lit up with white sparkles when the sun struck the shiney leaves.
Camp inspection by the local Deer..No don't get up we're just passing through..
Home now, time enough to sort my gear and gather my rations and then back to the wood for Ostara.
This Beech although fallen may well live on for some years yet as some of her roots are still in the bank from which she fell.
In falling she struck another Beech which has now lost the top half.
So, seedlings about the time of the Great Fire of London and perhaps gone when Men and Women commute to Mars.
Nature has wielded her axe in other places too..
Thankfully this trip was cold nights and warm sunny days when the morning mist had cleared and the Easterly wind although chill at times was without strength.
When the mist fills the wood there are just the occasional few notes of birdsong, as if all the feathered folk are holding their breath, and then when the sun lights the wood the Blue Tits, Robins and anyone with something to sing about joins in...
Home for 5 days 4 nights...
The weight of my Bergan encourages me to eat this lot as it's a 40 minute walk back to the transport and the trek in teaches me I'm not getting any younger...
The promise of Blue Bells looks good for this year but the wild Daffodils have beaten them to first showing.
In the early hours of the second morning I was awoken by what sounded like an Apple or Pickled Onion eating competition close outside the tent...Ha! Brock munching Blue Bell bulbs within feet of where I slept..
He's obviously a thoughtful Badger though as he's dug his latrine some distance from my camp..
After the rains of winter the boundary stream provides background music at night.
By day I track the Deer and watch the life of the wood around me..
Deer trail..
Lunch for some perhaps...Not for me..
Small Mouse...big appetite..
Day 3..Disaster..my faithful camp kettle which I cache in the wood has developed a wobbly leaking spout, so it's brew kettle to the rescue..
Nooo! Not Porridge again! I shall sack the cook I think..
The Blow Poker I made and find so useful on winter camps when the air is still and damp kindling refuses to catch easily, was not needed this trip. The Easterly wind through the wood made for easy fire lighting.
Somehow this branch has grafted itself, the triangle is without a join!
The shapes of Nature intrigue me. This Ivy has almost tied itself in knots.
Over a year ago I used Ivy to make a handle for a blade that I bought. A bolster and pommel plate from a salvaged brass finger plate off an old door, a couple of leather spacers and 3 wood screws. A few coats of Teak Oil and the knife has served me well and gets used very frequently. Ivy has it's uses..
The Holly Tree in the background lit up with white sparkles when the sun struck the shiney leaves.
Camp inspection by the local Deer..No don't get up we're just passing through..
Home now, time enough to sort my gear and gather my rations and then back to the wood for Ostara.
Super woods- thanks for posting
