Along Dappled Lanes

At last, we had a summer`s morning!  Bright, warm sunshine and a blue sky. Flowers opened and the wet land began to dry. I walked around our hill with Old Dog, and looked across open Forest towards the sea, distant rooftops of Bournemouth and blue, misty outlines of the Purbecks.

At the woodland edge there were shining green fronds of bracken, reflecting sunlight.

We walked around puddles in the gravel trackway.......

and in the dip of the lane.

An old black cob was relishing good grass in his meadow.

Light fell on dead branch shapes.

Tree trunks framed the badgers` hollow, where a late foxglove flowered....

...and rotting, hollow birch trunks smelled of damp.

Blue sky topped the trees in the valley. Rowan berries are reddening early this year......

...but this old rowan by the track has a mortal wound in its trunk. Beneath split bark the wood is rotting and woodpeckers have holed the red woody flesh beneath.

Against the sky, its leaves are prematurely yellowing and berries grow scant and poor this year.

On we walked, through the holly lined lane where horses once pulled coaches up towards the London road......

....and found the place where two ashes fell in recent storms. Foresters have cleared the site and now the good timber lies waiting beside the track, waiting to be carried away.