After some light rain a couple of days ago and a brief drop in temperatures, yesterday, although overcast was back to very warm weather. Due to the conditions I've been using a Meths burner on my overnight trips, not that my cooking is affected in the slightest by what stove I use, it still hovers around the barely edible standard..Not true, I'm the Noodle King of West Wales. 
Lining the farm track that leads to the wood, clumps of Ragwort grow. I know Equestrian folk and other stock owners hate it for it's potential harming effects on livestock, but on an overcast but warm day like yesterday the Golden yellow flowers brighten the journey and Mr Bumble had no complaints about the quality of the feed.
Since the brief recent rain the Purple Loosetrife has bloomed in the dampened soil under the woodland canopy.
I headed off into the thick undergrowth towards one of my usual camping spots. The Berries on the Wild Arum have turned their seasonal red and look like Port hand navigation marks in a green sea.
Carrying a loaded Bergan is a bit of a balancing act in this particular area of woodland, the ground is thick with Brambles and sure enough the only place I stumbled just happened to be alongside a Blackthorn Tree.
The needle nose pliers on a Leatherman make prime Thorn extractors...
I got the Thorn out and let it bleed until I reached camp, remembering that as a kid I had ended up with a knee swollen to three times it's normal size after a Blackthorn stabbing that I didn't treat properly.
First Aid Kit, one of those things rarely used but always worth Bergan room.
Tent set up suspended under an old Field Maple Tree, not having to use the single pole as support gives a nice clear area to the zipped doorway.
The shadey woods are still damp, so danger from a flying spark is very remote, so I'm using a Fire Box stove tonight.
A quiet peaceful night and another sunny warm day dawning. The morning sun makes the green of the woodland floor plants look quite pale in the early light.
I broke camp quite early, even so, by the time I got home to the cottage the day was already hot and the shade of the back garden was a welcome sight.
And so too is my friend. He stands surrounded by green growth, keeping watch, welcoming friends, and growing old, slowly returning to Mother Earth where he began.
A leaving present carved by a mate that I served with long ago.
Lining the farm track that leads to the wood, clumps of Ragwort grow. I know Equestrian folk and other stock owners hate it for it's potential harming effects on livestock, but on an overcast but warm day like yesterday the Golden yellow flowers brighten the journey and Mr Bumble had no complaints about the quality of the feed.
Since the brief recent rain the Purple Loosetrife has bloomed in the dampened soil under the woodland canopy.
I headed off into the thick undergrowth towards one of my usual camping spots. The Berries on the Wild Arum have turned their seasonal red and look like Port hand navigation marks in a green sea.
Carrying a loaded Bergan is a bit of a balancing act in this particular area of woodland, the ground is thick with Brambles and sure enough the only place I stumbled just happened to be alongside a Blackthorn Tree.
The needle nose pliers on a Leatherman make prime Thorn extractors...
I got the Thorn out and let it bleed until I reached camp, remembering that as a kid I had ended up with a knee swollen to three times it's normal size after a Blackthorn stabbing that I didn't treat properly.First Aid Kit, one of those things rarely used but always worth Bergan room.
Tent set up suspended under an old Field Maple Tree, not having to use the single pole as support gives a nice clear area to the zipped doorway.
The shadey woods are still damp, so danger from a flying spark is very remote, so I'm using a Fire Box stove tonight.
A quiet peaceful night and another sunny warm day dawning. The morning sun makes the green of the woodland floor plants look quite pale in the early light.
I broke camp quite early, even so, by the time I got home to the cottage the day was already hot and the shade of the back garden was a welcome sight.
And so too is my friend. He stands surrounded by green growth, keeping watch, welcoming friends, and growing old, slowly returning to Mother Earth where he began.
A leaving present carved by a mate that I served with long ago.
