The last of the Christmas cards were written, so I walked into a nearby village to post them. A windless, white-grey morning where ice stayed floating on water troughs and puddles. A grazing pony looked up and watched across a wide meadow as I passed by in the lane.
A New Forest filly foal and her mother browsed brambles on the leaf littered bank. Seconds later, the filly wandered down into the lane, walked across, stopping the traffic, and calmly carried on eating the hedge as cars moved out to pass her.
Commoners` cattle and ponies brought into pasture for the winter. Behind the far hedge, the misty Forest stretches away into the distance.
Coppiced hazel and beech in an ancient hedge that borders grazing pasture.
The footpath leads up above the road and through a tunnel of holly, hazel and ash.
In the village car park, these two were climbing through the fence to graze on grass verges.
Back along the lane, past bare oaks in the manor parkland, standing gracefully against the winter sky.
A split branch of oak, velvet green with moss, bends down towards the earth at the base of this tall and ancient tree.
The last of the Christmas cards were written, so I walked into a nearby village to post them. A windless, white-grey morning where ice stayed floating on water troughs and puddles. A grazing pony looked up and watched across a wide meadow as I passed by in the lane.
A New Forest filly foal and her mother browsed brambles on the leaf littered bank. Seconds later, the filly wandered down into the lane, walked across, stopping the traffic, and calmly carried on eating the hedge as cars moved out to pass her.
Commoners` cattle and ponies brought into pasture for the winter. Behind the far hedge, the misty Forest stretches away into the distance.
Coppiced hazel and beech in an ancient hedge that borders grazing pasture.
The footpath leads up above the road and through a tunnel of holly, hazel and ash.
In the village car park, these two were climbing through the fence to graze on grass verges.
Back along the lane, past bare oaks in the manor parkland, standing gracefully against the winter sky.
A split branch of oak, velvet green with moss, bends down towards the earth at the base of this tall and ancient tree.
4 comments:
Even on a grey morning your countryside is so green in mid-December. The Forest ponies must be a never-ending source of interest. I'm wondering if they ignore humans in their landscape or do they come close?
Some of the ponies will come close if they are used to human contact, while others are much wilder and will move away if people approach.
I have a few who visit our back gate who have been around since they were born. They will call out if they hear my footsteps on the gravel. One or two will follow Old Dog and I around the hill if we meet them out in the bracken. I don`t give them tit bits as this encourages them to be pushy towards the tourists, but I have water buckets outside for them.
Thanks for explaining. I can see where it might not be good for them to be too friendly with the tourists!
The beauty of your blog is that everywhere is so familiar to me - I find it very comforting : )
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