Wilderness Wood and a Blustery Day
27 December 2023
I do need to write my blog sometime this week, with the Christmas festivities having narrowed it down to today. Unfortunately today the winds are forecasted to be up to 45mph, not ideal for a walk in woods, on the crest of a hill, in the High Weald!
To play safe I've brought my hard hat, but perhaps disappointingly when I arrive it isn't all that windy after-all. Of course weather forecasts in the UK can be pretty unreliable, with local factors such as aspect and altitude being as important as regional weather generalisations.
The conifers up near the Barn, House and Workshops area are particularly noisy in any wind, but today it's the constant white noise that is most obvious. Trees in leaf catch the wind, like a giant sail and are therefore much more susceptible to wind damage. Falling branches are therefore a health and safety risk during high winds! However, down in the birch wood near Holly Hut things are much quieter. The absence of leaves on trees makes such a difference. The trees here are hardly moving at all.
Sweet Chestnut in their winter costume are little disturbed by high winds
Today I've decided to walk round bits of the wood I rarely visit, so I start at the eastern boundary next to Tinkers Park. Unseen amongst the trees I am able to observe one of the wilder residents of the wood, a bipede. It is Dan (the owner), out on his morning run. It's great spotting wildlife in their natural habitat.
Walking along Emily’s ‘secret path’ (sorry I can't divulge it's whereabouts - you'll just have to find it for yourself), I decide to snap photos of tree bark and the like. (See below).
A. Lichen encrusted young Sweet Chestnut B. Orange lichen encrusted older Sweet Chestnut
C. Older Birch with moss ‘leg-warmers’ D. Younger Birch - with shredding papery bark
My walk takes me along the track from Fiveways down to Dead End, where it terminates at the boundary with the adjoining landowners property. Humans rarely pass this way, if only because of their aversion to trespass. The path however is well beaten across the adjacent land, with deer, fox, badger and others no respecters of human property ownership. I contemplate how much more fun it must be, to be a wild animal, free to roam the High Weald. Then again I wouldn't fancy being hunted, culled, chased, baited or used for some other form of so called field sports.
Deer tracks indicate they are no respecters of the artificial boundaries humans put on their land
My route takes me briefly off-piste, navigating between leafless chestnut coppice stools, but I soon reappear on the A-Z trail near the largest living creature in the wood - Big Beech, a 200-300 year old beech tree on the south-eastern boundary. It still bears the scars of generations of humans who have cut their initials into its bark. Where vandalism meets heritage. Now there's a thorny subject to discuss around a campfire sometime.
Big Beech - this 2-300 year old veteran bears the scars often inflicted by past generations
Talking of campfires I turn off the path to visit the saucer-shaped Wood Glade. This is a useful structure to utilise whenever we host Forest School groups and others looking for a wilder woodland location to gather a group together. It can be hired at a not unreasonable cost and seats up to 10 individuals around a campfire hearth – perhaps to discuss the thorny subject mentioned above?
Wood Glade - a great structure for a campfire gathering in the woods
Beyond Wood Glade I am able to stand at the boundary of the wood once more and steal a peek at another neighbouring field. Here the landowners have built a modern-day pond bay – I suspect largely for aesthetic reasons. In the middle of the pond 2 large geese sit like Lord and Lady Muck guarding their country retreat.
A modern take on a Pond Bay or Furnace Pond
At one time pond bays were built all over the High Weald providing water power for driving forging hammers and blast furnaces to process the iron ore extracted here since Roman times. Today such ponds are a vital habitat for wildlife, especially amphibians, and I am proud that we too are adding ponds of our own for this purpose.
Still keen to avoid the conifers I circle round to the wildest part of Wilderness Wood – Streamside Camp. Those who stick rigidly to the A-Z Trail will miss this area (try turning right at point Q). Occasionally, campers in search of a wild camping experience pitch their tents here (enquire at The Hatch to book).
The seasonal pond at Streamside Camp - a secluded ‘wild-camping’ site in the wood
A few young western red cedar trees, a commonly planted conifer grown for timber purposes in the wood, attract my attention and I decide to photograph their wind catching fronds (see below). They are often confused with Leylandii a common tree in urban hedges, which seems to lack a 'stop' button when it comes to vertical growth. The two certainly look very similar.
Western Red Cedar fronds easily catch the wind in the tree tops
Having seen our neighbours’ ponds, I can't resist looking at own ponds sited at a former penstock pond. This would have been used to top-up a furnace pond further down the valley up until 200 years ago.
The ponds continue to look healthy and brimmed full of water. It is noteworthy that the top-most pond is now crammed with water starwort, an aquatic plant which continues to grow even in December. This is because water in a pond retains its heat longer than the surrounding air. In the south of England woodland ponds are unlikely to freeze and will retain temperatures at-depth, of around 4 degrees Celsius – when water is at its most dense.
These ponds promise to be a perfect home for frog spawn, tadpoles and aquatic invertebrates over the coming year. A pair of whirligig beetles gyrate across the surface, whilst a diving beetle suddenly appears from the deep to recharge the air bubble it keeps under its wing cases, before retiring to the pond depths.
An aquatic forest of Water Starwort crams the topmost of the new ponds
Down here in the sheltered valley bottom only the tops of the Scots Pines are caught by the wind, with the woodland floor barely stirring. Very little bramble grows in the deep shade of the conifer woods unlike the adjacent area where brambles scurry hither and thither tripping the unwary walker with their razor-wire stems.
Bramble grows abundantly in the more open areas of the wood
Climbing Steep Hill (of ecological survey fame) I pass a young family braving the cold and blustery conditions at the back-end of the year. It's great to see young kids out and about enjoying the natural environment regardless of the weather conditions.
All that remains is to follow the A-Z Trail back to the relative civilisation of The Barn area. The woods reopen to the public in February, unless you have the good fortune to have taken-out membership – when you are at liberty to discover the woods all year round.
With the shortest day of the year now a week behind us I already feel optimistic about the coming spring. I'm not so optimistic about about the summer which once again promises to see the woods turning to a savannah crispy-brown.
Happy New Year.
Post-script: Last week we celebrated the Winter Solstice and were treated to a couple of songs in the wood by a lady who someone told me was an opera singer. Opera is not my forte, but I was impressed by her own fortitude, battling the wind in the conifers overhead. I said as much to her a little later, which I’m sure she appreciated. She was discussing with Dan, a folk song put to music by Vaugh Williams and proceded to sing it quietly for our benefit. Not to be outdone I said “I know a folk song”, and perhaps a little over-fortified by mulled cider proceded to sing it with great gusto. The graceous lady sang along with me, which was very nice of her, so I sang her a further one, which she joined in also.
“I believe you are a professional opera singer.” I put to her - like some kind of music expert.
“Yes” she replied.
“You wouldn’t happen to know one of my neighbours who is also an opera singer - Louise Winter.”
“Louise? Yes, lovely voice.”
“Really? I may be seeing her at a party tonight.”
“Oh do say hello from me.”
“I will - what was the name?”
“Lesley Garrett.”
I looked at her disbelievingly, mouth open as wide as a nightjar’s.
“Do you sing professionally?” she asked.
I had just taken the lead singing a duet with Lesley Garrett and she asked if I sang professionally.
What a lovely lady! Now I’ve finished writing this blog, I’m going to relive the experience and duet with her again - on Spotify this evening.