Unlucky Buck...

With the Fallow rut intensifying, I was becoming increasingly frustrated with my attempts to get some good shots of the larger bucks. By the time they moved from the less accessible woodland onto the heath, the sun was beginning to set and the light fail.

In the night under pale moonlight, it was relatively easy to get close, but there really wasn't enough light for a clear photo. I'd have to come back the next day.

By the time I arrived at Cannock Chase it was already early afternoon. The weather wasn't playing ball, any brief moments of sun were quickly followed by bouts of grey cloud laden gloom and spitty rain. This didn't seem to bother the rutting deer who were being very vocal, bellowing loudly in the trees.You'll have to turn the volume up on these videos as the soundtrack is a little quiet but, crucial.

The larger buck were in the dense coniferous forests at the usual rutting grounds, which they use year after year. Most were difficult to get a good view of. I neither wanted to unnecessarily disturb them, or be mauled by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After a few uninspiring shots through the undergrowth, I decided to take a break, put my hammock up in the trees and have lunch. Fully rested, I stood to pack the hammock into my rucksack. As I turned there was a herd of deer right behind me. I froze, they froze... slowly I reached for my camera, they scattered, melting into the forest!

High up on a hill, the sound of clashing antlers echoed across from the next valley. Torn between hurrying and moving stealthily I made my way down the steep slippery track. Two large bucks were fighting in the bracken. A smaller buck decided to take advantage of the vacant plot strutting his stuff and bellowing, but was off in a flash as soon as another much larger buck arrived to investigate the fuss.

Trying to capture the action with my camera was difficult. The power of these two creatures as they pushed and shoved was amazing. Just trying to keep your footing or walk through the tough dry bracken is hard enough, but they were ripping their way through it as if it wasn't there. The noise of antler upon antler was surprisingly loud. After a good 5 minutes or more of battling the bucks broke apart. The bracken parted as a huge buck came crashing and thundering down the slope, straight towards me... Aaargh!
Fiddling with the zoom on my camera while checking my potential escape route resulted in a clumsy shot. Luckily the deer spotted me at the last moment and turned off to one side. He looked exhausted, dejected, panting, with the remnants of foliage ripped from the ground hanging from his antlers. I felt sorry for him, he wasn't having a good day.

I'm Quarry Quarry...

I went for a walk by the sand quarries up on the hill. The air was heavy with the heady aroma of the Gorse in full bloom. The flowers smell of almonds. Although they're edible, I find them a bit bitter, but they are good for making salads look pretty.

There's been hardly any rain lately, the ground was dry and cracked. Normally these shallow silt bottomed puddles are great for finding animal tracks. You can tell what the badgers have been up to, and if the invisible deer herd has come through recently. I say 'invisible' because I see tracks, hair, nibbled foliage, mangled saplings from bucks rubbing their antlers, their mud hollows, and flattened areas where they've slept, but never ever see the deer themselves... Invisible, the only explanation!

As I made my way along the edge of the quarry, I got the feeling I was being watched. There was no one there, hardly anyone ever comes here. The occasional rustle, crack of a twig, but as soon as I turned to look... silence. The buzzard was up on the hill, surveying his world from his lookout post. He'd got his eye on something, he was staring at a dense patch of gorse behind me. Suddenly, spooked, he flew off. I got the feeling that I was being stalked by something.

The day was pleasant enough, but there was a nagging cold north wind. I headed down into the old woods where it was more sheltered and strung my hammock up in my usual spot between an ancient Yew and a young Oak.
I settled down with a flask of coffee and a great book... Running with the Fox by David Macdonald.

Every so often I heard a noise in the undergrowth. There was definitely something out there.

Then my pursuer showed himself. It was my old acquaintance. This isn't one of the foxes from the family of foxes that I go to see each night and feed. This is a good number of miles away.

We met last year when he came to investigate the smell of the bacon sandwiches I was cooking. We met a second time when I was scrambling to the top of a steep grass incline, and he was coming up the other side. We came nose to nose, paused and went quickly our separate ways. Since then we see each other from a distance, sometimes he barks to me to let me know he's seen me.

He's become used to me being around, and realises that I mean him no harm. Curiosity gets the better of him and he'll come to have a gander sometimes.

This wood is deserted, as well as the quarry and so he seems comfortable to spend a lot of time out in the daytime.

Once he ascertained that there were no bits of bacon to be had, he was off to catch some more voles.

Mist friends...

Holiday fever had set in pretty bad. The symptoms were restless legs, grumpiness (even more than usual), and a slight thickening around my waist... a hefty dose of the outdoors was the remedy.Several days and nights of freezing fog had left the world encrusted with frost. The lakes were frozen but not thick enough to support my bulk over to the little island.
I cut across the frozen wetlands to a favourite spot. Put up one of my ever faithful hammocks, and settled myself down for a long wait...
After much toe wriggling and face pulling to stop myself setting solid, through the gentle cold mist my guests began to arrive.
The wild ponies hate to be pursued, but their natural curiosity always gets the better of them, and one by one they appeared.
At first they'll pretend that they haven't seen you, congregating a little way off.
Next comes the nod. The boss pony will give you the 'I see you signal', a reciprocal nod back lets him know that I mean no harm.
Then follows a bit of mutual exaggerated over casual behaviour, before eventually...
...a friendly face plods over to say hello.
From then on, you're one of the gang; even if you do look different and smell of coffee!...

Remember... simply click on any of the pictures for extra 'bigness'!!!...

A sunny interval!....

I gave Jenny a lift to work today, and as it was near Sutton Park and remarkably not raining, (It's rained pretty much everyday for over a month, wheres my summer?) I decided to go for a walk. I headed for this little tree overlooking Longmoor valley. It's quite open here, and when the weather's like this, likely to shower at anytime this fir makes a great regular bolt hole. Surveying the sky, I thought I'd venture further and ambled downhill, past the old world war 1 zig zag practice trenches and on to Rowtons Well.

Rowtons well is a natural spring. It is reputed to have been regularly used by the Romans who camped near here up on the hill. The wells waters were famous for curing 'inveterate, cutaneous and chronic ailments' in 1762. In Victorian days it was known for its purity and water was collected daily to be taken to Birmingham eye hospital. You can still see the rut marks left across one stretch of the moors from the wagon used. Ladies of the time believed it was good for the 'constitution' to bathe in its cold waters, and a flag pole was erected to warn when it was in use. The stream below this is full of wild watercress and was often taken by the locals to sell. Nowadays the water isn't so clean. I still use it to make a cup of tea while I'm out, but I give it a good boil first!

Further on I came across the old 'shooting butts'. This is where the targets were held up by soldiers hiding in the trench. This continued until well after the first world war, but ceased after complaints from members of the public suffering near misses!

This whole valley is rich with history. First world war prisoners of war were held here and discovered flint arrowheads, post holes and an ancient wooden trackway across the marshes while digging peat. The Romans built a road and a section of it has become encompassed in the park. When the Romans left, this road was ignored and not used by locals as it only went from one old fort to another and served no useful route. Because of the unique nature of the park, (given to the people of Sutton Coldfield in a Royal charter for use as agistment, pannage and estover etc) this area was never built on, and so the road survives intact. As you can see the road presents itself as a raised strip, proceeding straight as a die all the way to the still remaining fort at the village of Wall.

In some places the surface stones are still in place. 1600 years on and this is still a good dry track across the marshes of Longmoor and in better condition than some of the local modern roads!

To each side of this are lines of Sweet Chestnut trees. These were introduced by the Romans as a food source but were cultivated extensively in Sutton not only as food but for the wood which was particularly suitable for splitting into fencing pales. These fences were used to top the mounds above the ditches around the deer park and royal chase from the 1100's onwards.

I was uncertain what the weather had in mind, and the cows were being no help. Lying down is supposed to mean rain. Some were standing, some lying, one stood up (hooray, sunshine), but then lay down again (boo). I surmised rain with sunny intervals!

The railway line cuts straight across the northern part of the park. It should never have come this way, but was pushed through by surrounding rich land owners hoping to make a quick buck. The poorer locals were promised cheap coal, which did come, and then continued on past in order to supply the industrial revolution in nearby Birmingham!

I waited ages for a goods train to come so that I could take a photo, but nothing. As soon as I stood on the level crossing to take this shot I became paranoid that I was going to be run down.

On this side of the park there is a herd of wild ponies. They are the same breed as found on Exmoor. At weekends they hide away from people in the less accessible areas, but during the week they venture out closer to the fence line where the ground is dryer and the grass greener.

Sleepy and relaxed they let me get quite close. I love these chaps, their coats change season to season. In winter they go pretty fluffy and much darker.

You might think they're dozing, but they've always got an eye on you!

I ended the walk with a flask of coffee while swinging in my small hammock. Gosh I look severe in this photo.....I'm having fun, honestly!

Nothing much happening...

Not much has happened this week....I've been distracted by..now what was it called? Ah that's it, work.

"Work to live, not live to work"

Of course the days are much longer now, so there is always a spare hour to go and have a snooze in your hammock in the woods.

This is a great spot. If you leave the canopy off the hammock you can watch the buzzards wheel above you. HEY, that's not good. Better move about a bit, show them that I'm not dead!

Damn rabbits! Woke me up again. How can they make so much noise? What are they doing down there?..OH

Did a bit of kayaking this week (couple of 5mile trips). Nowhere new, just along the canal near Drayton Manor. This is the bridge that I forgot to photo for a previous post.

It's a great little footbridge, a real landmark. There should be more stuff built like this. So many houses are designed with no inventiveness. Things could be so much better...imagine giving directions to your house, "turn left at the 'spires', staight up to the 'stilted cottage', turn right and I'm third on the left", "yes, that's right, the white one with the turrets and a footbridge"!

I like spiral staircases. You just can't fall down them. Well, you can a bit but you soon lose momentumn, you can't fall all the way down that's for sure...Should put them in old peoples homes, would save a lot of trouble!

Yes, the tower does lean like that, but I think it's meant to. Hang on I'll just move my boat back a tad, just in case!

No, it's alright look, the other one leans in the opposite direction. I'm going off having turrets on my house, they seem like a lot of worry.







Now, if you lie on your back and take a picture it appears sraight! "Can I get past please?", "Sorry, just taking a picture", "Course you are dear!"...Can't they see that I'm an artist?

On the other side you've got this cool swivel bridge. Don't park in front of it though, or a very big farmer will come and have words with you. Actually he's very nice and freindly. After asking me if I could move the car he was the first to point out that I was sat on an ants nest,..could have been nasty!







Saw the first Mallard ducklings of the year.

I hadn't noticed how well camouflaged they were until now...Hang on, is this the right picture? You'll have to take my word for it, they are there! They're on the wall I think. Strange, on the video they are as plain as day!

Must be 'ghost' ducklings (don't show up on film).
You know it wasn't until I saw ducks hide that I realised that ducks 'duck' and this is where the word comes from. You probably already knew this, but it's a revelation to me! All those stripes on Mallards that I thought were just pretty suddenly make sense. When the duck 'ducks' its head down, the sripe on the head that goes across the eye, lines up with the marks on the wings. This forms a continuous dark band which looks like a reflection on the water, when they 'freeze' they melt away into the background!

Glorious day....

The kayak was strapped to the car and ready to go. A flask of 'camp' coffee (you know, the one with chicory that comes in a bottle) and a flask of soup with crusty bread, plus my trusty rucksack of paraphernalia were impatiently thrown into the car. The weather was glorious and I needed to be out...

As I drove through the lanes to get to Drayton village, the sun began to 'burn' through the early mist. After passing the vineyards on Shirral lane, I came to the pastures where the horses are put to graze. Full of the vigour's of spring, they ran along side the car to the limit of their field. It was going to be a magical day.

The canals were empty. Not a soul to be seen, just how I like it. Flat like a mirror, the only ripples were mine!

A quick paddle from Drayton swing bridge (the one that looks like a white double turreted castle but stupidly neglected to photograph) up to Kingsbury water nature reserve. Here I took a soup break and exchanged a few words with the homeless guy who occupies this stretch of water (if you're going to be homeless, be homeless somewhere nice!).

Paddling towards Fazeley, I turned left at the basin and headed for Hopwas woods via Tamworth. The canal people were beginning to wake up and it was getting busy, but they are all such friendly folk.

It's only mid April but it's getting really warm (25c), I've left the sun cream in the car and I'm beginning to regret it as my shoulders are sunburning. (What is up with the British weather? No winters to speak of and getting hotter year after year! CRAZY!)

Running the gauntlet of the two pub gardens either side of the canal at Hopwas village, "What sort of boat is that?", a tipsy but friendly bloke asks. "Paddle steamer!" I reply. (He seems happy enough with the description and returns to his beer).

The tranquility of Hopwas wood beckons...

The canal is high up here, the river Trent to the right , some 100 feet below and beyond that lies Tamworth. A world war two 'pill box' stands guard. They are everywhere, the canals and rivers were considered to be a real weakness from invasion and were well fortified.

I've always been intrigued by these relics of war. Around here seems to be a hot spot from every era. To the west from here is a nuclear bunker (Admaston) mothballed but still intact, and at Fisherwick there is a complex of 7 bunkers marked on the map only as 'storage'. What would you need to store underground, served by lift shafts, protected by 20ft high earth blast banks, 40ft lightning conductors? The only vehicles in and out are lorries marked "Skipper produce", with a picture of a dog, (this company doesn't seem to exist!). A subject for another post!! If you don't hear from me, I've stepped on the wrong toes!

The woods here at Hopwas are lovely. At this time of year they are full of anemones. I love to put my hammock up here and I never get disturbed by dog walkers. Perhaps this sign explains why!

On the return trip, (11 miles today, achy arms tomorrow!) I managed at last to film one of the many grass snakes I see swim across the canal. I know the regular places that they hang out, but their appearances are so fleeting I rarely get to film them.

This little chap was waiting to cross as I approached. After a mad scramble to get the camcorder out of the rear boat hatch, I began filming.

They are canny creatures and will take the time to watch you, to judge your intentions.

When you see them swimming up ahead, it often appears as if they are are an insect, trapped by the water, zipping about on the surface causing little 'V' waves.

They are so at home on the water, dinky tongue testing the air as they go.

Once up on the bank, curiosity gets the better of him. He hung around for a good 30 secs, checking me out. I can't express how chuffed I am when I get to see these guys.

See you chap, I'm off home. Tired arms, but as relaxed as one could ever be....Today, life is good...