Bad Dudes

Deer trails through Dog’s Mercury

In recent years, my visits to the Darwell area have been in winter – from Mountfield or in summer, after dark, from Darwell Hole (for Nightjars). So our Good Friday walk from the latter as far east as Simmett’s Wood added a few new (summer) species to the default Birdtrack list.I should think we’ll be lucky to see any more Nightjars in the traditional “clearing”since it’s not really clear any more, having grown up very tall,no more Tree Pipits either. However……there were 4 Nightingales singing loudly there in the bright sunshine, accompanied by a Willow Warbler and a whole host of commoner species. 2 more Nightingales were singing a little further over just west of the Gypsum conveyor belt and a seventh at mysterious and magical Furnace Farm site. In addition, there were three females offering their support in the form of croaks and whistles. So – 10 Nightingales, arrived in just the last couple of days and already getting on with it.

Neglected and out-grown Hornbeam hedge

The woodland varies in species composition and contains the relics of previous usage in terms of wood-banks, ore zones pocked with bell-pits and outgrown hedges along forgotten lanes, yesterday all bathed in light filtered through fresh spring foliage. Songs of Blue, Great  & Coal Tit, Blackbird, Song Thrush and Nuthatch echoed off bare oak boughs and the poles of ailing Sweet Chestnut. Siskins were flying about the tops of tall conifers.

Goldcrests too were ubiquitious and we came across 2 singing Firecrests, one in ivy, the other traditionalNorway spruce.

We were surprised to find no Marsh Tits but stoical about the non-appearance of LS Woodpecker, which has been seen there recently, and Hawfinch, which has not. One rotten trunk displayed many suspiciously small peckings.

To the east of the conveyor belt, tracks and deep, deep ruts were signs of recent off-roading activity which had reduced the tracks in this unusually dry spring to slurry. On the bright side, they provided drinking place for birds and breeding habitat for some insects.

Debris from collisions was scattered about…

…and a flipped 4WD lay not far from the traditional Yellow Jeep (crumbling ever further into the forest floor).

RIP LITUL JEPE U R IN HEVIN NOW WIV DA ANGLES AN LEMMY FROM MOTORHED

Relics of human recreation included these bottles enfolded in a mossy, wind-thrown stump, Red Bull cans and scatters of McDonalds wrappings.While I usually just get angry about witless littering, on this occasion I brought my “High Weald: My Weald” re-usable cotton bag into  devastating play and removed these items from their adopted woodland habitat.

Even from among the trees, the barking of displaying GC Grebes and howling of Herring Gulls could be heard while from gaps in the lakeside willows, Coots, Tufted Ducks & Mallards could be made out. A Grey Heron drifted in over the treetops – but from where? It should be nesting now.

Surviving from summer-time cook-outs on the shores of the shrunken reservoir, a ring of sandstone lifted from footings of the vanished farmhouse lies temporarily drowned.

The paintings of George Shaw (at the De LaWarr till June 18th) have further sensitized me to the pathos of human traces, like this deliberately yet inexplicably scarred tree. deep within the woods,

The farm site itself remains as a progressively overgrown clearing, leggy, flowering blackthorn festooned with lichen and inhabited by secretive Bullfinches; an approach to the lake beneath the dark tunnel of a Yew; a sandstone wall; ashore  composed of heavy black iron slag and fragments of terracotta plain-tile; domestic rubbish that has had a few decades  to become charming.

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