The drawing above is some kind of response to being lost in the woods.
There are basically three sections to the ‘neutral zone’ in this wilding experiment, the bottom, the middle and the top. The top is actually the southernmost point but it sounds as if it should the northernmost, some kind of pre-conditioning makes us put The North at the top, but it is on the highest ground in that part of the woods. I planned to walk the top section as I had not done this for ages. We parked in Clowes Wood and crossed over the Radfall Road to get to it and wandered into a wonderful golden place with mostly Sweet Chestnut trees with a massive yellow impact, I was totally immersed in yellow, a great feeling though I was beginning to realisie that there was no sign of a path. I knew this was likely to happen but knew I would eventually come out on a path I knew. There are two roads either side to form the apex of a triangle with a footpath along the base of this triangle so if it went really wrong, I would come out somewhere familiar.
However after walking for ten minutes still with no appearance of a path, just striking out across more and more of limitless yellow chestnut trees it does begin to feel a little uncomfortable and the effect of an exhilarating yellow bath was wearing off now. It doesn’t make much difference to Fred I think he just lets me decide the general direction while he covers a lot more ground than me to the left and right, front and back ignorant that finding a path is becoming a high priority. May-be I hadn’t taken something into account? I knew this not to be true and, in the end we came out exactly where I thought I would on the base of the triangle. I also know there is another path which would take me back into ‘the interior’ and loop round in a big arc bringing me eventually back onto this path I am on now. Relaxed now and wanting to relive the whole yellow experience again I turned along this path and walked back ‘In’. A few hundred yards in I had lost the path already the fallen leaves covering the ground and providing no clue to where the path really was. The greens, yellows, and yellow ochres were fantastic but as time passed, I wanted the path back. I did find it and enjoyed the security for a short time, but it wasn’t long before it was gone again and the brown blanket of leaves taking away all references I had brought with me in my memory. It was really gone now and I wasn’t enjoying the yellow anymore. I was back on it at last, no I don’t think I am, yes surely that is the tight corner where the plank goes over the stream, no its not there. Where’s Fred? This doesn’t look familiar at all. Where’s Fred. FRED. I was in a scene from ‘The Shining’ or something similar. Then this is when you think you might stumble across someone who is badly injured, crashed their car last night and been wandering the woods all night with a broken leg torn cloths and bleeding from the temple hysterical and desperate for your help. Where is Fred FRED? Then that person faded away and I imagine a Roman Centurion on a black horse. I never see many birds in the woods but that is defiantly a blackbird and that noise I can hear in the undergrowth is defiantly Fred. He’s back and wants a dog treat for coming back after leaving me to face a range of dark characters produced by my imagination. I give him a treat and can see through the trees a slight change in the colour of the trees in the far distance, denser greener trees. Surely I will be on my original path soon?
The past few days me and Fred have walked in Thornden Woods which will be part of the Wilder Blean project but acting as a neutral zone with no introductions. West Blean will have the animals introduced but these woods will remain as they are. The two different zones will be surveyed to compare the developments.
In terms of autumn colours things are accelerating quickly and these woods are spectacular. Beech trees, sweet chestnut, birch all turning yellow and in the early morning sun it is amazing. Bracken has largely gone brown now with dead ruddy brown leaves on the floor which creates a palate range of amazing depth with everything starting with yellow. I noticed quite a number of Wild Service Trees which has now become one of my favorites this time of year.
Fly Agaric, I see so many of these mushrooms it is everywhere, I counted ten together in one grouping of them. They are an iconic motif which probably needs no introduction or description and have a place in my imagination that evokes sinister large deep uncharted forests in Eastern Europe or perhaps Scandinavia. Places with remote log cabins where children get put in ovens, or eaten by wolves disguised as old ladies. This is misguided as I think it is a world wide species. After reading a little more about these mushrooms it is revealed they are ‘symbiont’. In the same way as clown fish and poisonous sea anemone’s live together sharing a protection/nutrient in cycle of mutual convenience. Turns out Pine, Birch and Fly Agaric have a similar thing going on! I know there are large areas of close planted pine in these woodlands, a policy after the World War ll. These are being felled or thinned now, as it turns out pine was quick growing but not ecologically such a good idea with habitats at ground level really suffering. Birch trees are quick to grow and establish in these clear felled areas. Lots of Fly Agaric in these woodlands.
Just enjoying the colours
These are brambles
After the wrestling match the other day I was a little apprehensive of taking Fred back into the woods this morning, but my worries of a repeat performance didn’t happen.
I saw a very autumnal yellowy orange tree which seemed more advanced in its autumnal colouring compared to the others around it. It was very striking and the colours really attracted me and I looked really closely to find out what kind of tree it actually was? It looked like some kind of maple tree but turned out to be The Wild Service Tree. I had heard of this tree as being quite rare and historically significant. It turns out this tree is an indicator that you are in an ‘ancient woodland’. I know the wider Blean complex of woodlansds were Henry VIII’s hunting forests when he visited Canterbury and that these woodlands have Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) status. It’s not often I become so struck by a particular tree and I wanted to research it further. The colour attracted me so much I had to know more. It has berries called chequer berries that if eaten need to be ‘bletted’ some kind of over ripening? They were used to flavour beer before hops were used and somehow ‘Chequer boards’ used to symbolize pubs? Also a herbal remedy for colic stomach pains. Apparently the wood is very close grained and hard and was used to make screw threads on wine presses and parts of musical instruments. I saw four of these trees on our walk this morning.
My companion on these woodland walks is Fred (Irish Terrier) and he has a very different agenda from mine, he is able to engage more directly than me immersing all his senses into the experience. We are both equally immersed in our own way. He runs off out of sight exploring looking for squirrels, I hold conversations with myself plot, plan and review situations in my life. Fred has no such worries, its all about the moment, the here and now for Fred. Intermittently I see him and often hear him nearby moving through the understory or shrub layer of the woods while I walk along the single track which is a mountain bike term for the narrow winding paths over tree roots, between the trees and across streams. We do communicate sometimes whereby if we reach a fork or junction I whistle very loudly and shout ‘wego thisone Fred’ which has become just a sound he recognises the words are totally meaningless. Fred will run by just to show me that he is not lost, and see which way I have actually gone. Sometimes I whistle loudly at a junction and what I get back is a couple of squeaky barks, this means, ‘I’m not coming now I’m busy’. I have to make a decision whether to carry on or wait at the junction till he comes. Usually, I carry on a little way whistle again and he runs up and checks in, all is well and we carry on.
However sometimes the bark sounds a little more intense and he does not run past after whistling 2-3 times, 4-5 times this is the signal that the ‘Squirrel Button’ has been pressed! When pressed it stays on. Sometimes I can turn it off with a dog treat and a little encouragement. But now and again it jams and I can’t turn it off. Today’s walk is one of those walks when the button has broken and JAMMED ON. In this situation from years of our relationship together I know Fred will not come to me for all the tea in China. I have to retrace my steps and follow the barking and eventually find the location where he has become fixated and utterly focused and obsessed. This will be ring 3-4 trees fairly close together where a squirrel has run up and passed across to another tree through the intertwining branches overhead. Fred rotates in a systematic routine barking up the trunk of each tree in turn, regardless of where the squirrel has gone. This circular loop cannot be broken and it is the record on the turn table that has become stuck.
As I approach Fred to put him on his lead he will run off to bark at another tree in his collection of targeted trees. I play piggy in the middle while he runs from tree to tree. I have in the past tried to wait till he gets bored and is just ready to move on. This has never worked and the length of wait remains unknown. So, I do wait by one tree patiently waiting my moment. Fred routinely checks this tree but on the opposite side of the trunk to where I am waiting and eventually when he is close enough and I feel the moment is right, I pounce and grab him and have to wrestle him down to the ground and get his lead on. In the past he has evaded me, or managed to wriggle free during the wrestling match and when this happens the whole thing has to start again and be repeated. Today I get him, squash him and hang on for dear life and get his lead on quick.
Success
But that is not the end of it. On previous occasions we have walked a quarter of a mile further on away from the ring of trees with Fred constantly stopping, pulling and wanting to turn back making any progress very slow, but gradually calming down and walking in the right direction. But as soon as I let him off the lead he has turned and run all the way back to continue rotating his patrol again. Not today. I pick him up and carry him across my shoulders like a Neolithic hunter carrying a deer out of the woods with me holding his legs on my chest. He wriggles now and then but I’m not giving in. It is about half a mile back to the car and as we get within a few hundred yards I put him on the ground and we walk the rest on the lead.
