Winter and the Hope of Spring

Winter is always a lean time for foragers and this Winter has been an especially wet and stormy one here in the UK. I seems as if it has not stopped raining for the last 6 months! Obviously, this is not actually true but it has been unusually damp for a long time and many rivers are swollen.

However, a wise person once said, "There's no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing!" We have still been out and about in the landscape, enjoying the weather regardless of what it chucks at us.

We visited Stonehenge for the Winter Solstice, which was fascinating particularly as this is one of the only times when the public are allowed in amongst the stones, which are normally fenced off. The clear advantage of the Winter Solstice over the Summer Solstice is that you don't have to get up quite so early because sunrise is around 8:00. Although it still proved difficult to arrive on time - despite leaving home at 6:00 - because parking is very limited and all the surrounding roads are designated tow away zones. However, after some improvisation, fence climbing and nocturnal navigating, we did reach the stones just in time.

We visited a storm-swept, yet somehow beautifully peaceful Devon in late December. We spent our time exploring the breathtaking beaches in wellies and waterproofs, and watching the waves smashing into the shoreline and breaching the breakwaters.

The New Forest is a short distance from our city, Southampton, and, while we love to find new places to visit and wander, there are a few favourite places that we frequently find ourselves walking through with friends. the whole of the forest is like one giant boggy mire at the moment, so suitable clothing and footwear is essential. Often we find ourselves delicately picking our way from tussock to tuft, trying to avoid sinking from sight like some poor character from the Hound of the Baskerville's. I would not be surprised to discover that some of the tales written by Conan Doyle, who is buried nearby in Minstead, were inspired by the seriously muddy New Forest environment.

Now the crocuses are out, shining like jewels amongst the mud and frost, Ransoms & wild Garlic is beginning to show itself and the daffodils, forcing their way out of the soaking ground will soon be trumpeting in the green shoots of Springtime.

Bolton's Bench Apple Trees

We took a picnic to Bolton’s Bench, near Lyndhurst in the New Forest. It could have been hot and sunny or pouring with rain, according to the forecast. It did both.

As the kids and I went for a quick amble along the ridge path we started to notice some stunted crab apple trees. Several of the trees were covered in fruit and I often think we should make more use of this native species.

Further along we found a tree that looked like the fruit would develop into normal sized apples. The tree was absolutely laden.

We can’t tell yet whether they will be eaters or cookers but I’m sure that there will be plenty of them and it would be a lovely place to pick fruit on a hot autumn day.

Rainwater Irrigation System

When it was raining every day during spring and we were simultaneously being told that drought conditions meant countrywide hosepipe bans would be required, my mind turned to the undeniable logic of rain collection and water-buts.

We have a workshop/shed at the top of our garden and I set about fitting gutters to the eves to collect the rain water. Fitting the gutters was actually far easier that I imagined it would be and was almost fun, despite the weather.

Finding water buts in stock was less easy, it seemed everyone had reached the same conclusion but eventually I found and purchased a large capacity one that would fit behind the shed. I channelled the water into the but and it was duly filled to the brim, within a week.

The next part of my project was running a hosepipe down from the reservoir, to irrigate our raised-bed vegetable plot; this is gravity assisted because the garden is on a slope.

I then learned about semi-porous hoses that can be used for watering gardens. I bought one of these, embedded it around the raised bed and then added it to the end of my device.

The end result was very satisfactory indeed; when the tap on the but is turned on, the water gradually beads out of the buried hose, thus watering the parched veg. Interestingly, my activities seem to have had an effect on the children and they have been creating ingenious contraptions of their own for watering hard to reach plants.

Now all I need to do is patent the Porous Irrigation Soaker System and think of a good marketing acronym. Well, perhaps not, but hopefully, this means that if we go away on holiday, I can just turn the tap on a small amount and my peas, spinach and garlic will all still be alive on our return…

Wet Hunter, White Hart

The sun has finally shown itself now but during the wettest April on record we went for a weekend walk. We were tired of the constant deluge but a monster storm had been forecast; so we decided to pack a picnic and go to try and find the worst weather we could.

For once, the Met. got it totally wrong. The wind changed direction/speed and the rain stopped, mostly. So, instead of going to the beach to see huge waves, we decided to go to the New Forest, for a wet walk.

We stopped at Lyndhurst and had our lunch in the car at Bolton’s Bench; it was still drizzling.  I was just plucking up the courage to tear myself away from the newspaper, when my daughter shouted DEER! We all looked up and sure enough, there were two stags and one young, completely white deer, trotting across the grass and into the cover of the trees.

In a trice I was outside the car, wrapped in my waterproof and chivvying the kids into their coats and boots. We trotted off to see if we could get close enough to deer to snap a photograph but they had vanished amongst the gorse. So, we carried on splashing along the streams and puddles caused by the relentless torrential rain.

I did ask some local dog walkers about the deer and they told me where I could go to be most likely to photograph a couple of rare white stags (harts), so we will have to track down these exceptional, snowy beauties on another day.