2019 / 57
14:30 – 16:15
Sunny periods between thick cloud and rain showers. Fairly strong SW 4-5
It is very unusual to find me here in the rain, but there have been intense showers every 90 minutes all day, after persistent rain since Thursday.
The Wood smells amazing – rich and thick, full of new freshness and hope.
It’s time to walk again
It’s time to make my way
Through the verdant green
And the forest glades
Holly is shimmering
Bracken is hiding things
And the summer scene
Is slowly changed
In woodland – after the rain
When the air is warm
And the flowers sway
The seasons echoing
The briars blossoming
And birdsong drifts
On the shining wind
Tall grasses shimmering
Wet leaves a-glimmering
The weather’s changed
(based on John Foxx song, Europe – After The Rain)
As the sunshine came out for an hour, so did this wonderful Red Admiral – my first here this year, Another species attracted to the emerging bramble:
I notice also in Q2 a Dog Rose (Rosa canina) in flower today for the first time, and then find a second on the bowery just at the bottom by the corner. Vital for pollinating insects, both plants are full of White-tailed Bumble Bees and other flying, buzzing things that I can’t (yet) identify:
I walk from here through the damp grass to Velmore and visit the bees at their nest in the Northern Belt. They are quiet today; humming.
As I step out onto the track west of the gorse gap, there are slate grey dark clouds hanging over the west woods and the Chilworth pines are outlined by the afternoon sun. It is raining heavily within minutes, advancing across the clearfell and into my space. Like tumbling diamonds, the teeming raindrops gleam and glitter in the in the sun, and behind them a misty grey descends. Temperature drops and the wind carries the storm directly overhead. I pull up my hood, tuck the optics inside my coat and head for the shelter of the trees in Section 4.
There’s a brave Meadow Brown trying to get to shelter before he gets as soaked as I already am. Its hard going on the claggy, sandy soil that clings to the boots and makes me slip and slide.
Stop at the stream, watching the rain fall heavily in to the standing water. Tadpoles.
I have noticed sometimes here, that if you are quiet, careful (and lucky) you can catch a glimpse of the Light as it moves silently through the Wood: