The Way Through The Woods

Rainy old England. Even down here in the south of the country, which largely escaped the attentions of storm Babet, there seems to have been rain or showers every day for the past couple of weeks. But it's getting to the time of year when the first signs of autumnal colour should start to shine forth. Time to head for the woods.

Counter-intuitively, perhaps, we head down the A10 road towards London, turning off down a rabbit warren of minor roads till we reach White Stubbs Lane and attempt to find one of the two small car parks that give access to Bencroft Wood, Nut Wood and Westfield Grove. 

All these variously named patches of woodland join up and form the Broxbourne Woods National Nature Reserve.

In the vicinity of the road and the car parks, there's well surfaced and heavily signposted network of paths. We always visit during weekdays but I imagine that it must get busy here on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. 

But we'll leave behind these well worn routes and turn off along narrower, muddier paths that lead into the heart of the woodland - not that it's really remote and you'll still run into the occasional dog-walker or horse-rider, even during the week.

This is what we'd hoped to see - plenty of fungi. During a wet, soggy autumn they pop up everywhere, especially in woods, forests and plantations. I'm not going to try to identify them all as it's easy to make mistakes and I always forget them all by the next autumn anyway!

The only problem with photographing them - apart from the increasing difficulties of bending down and getting back up again - is that once you get your eye in you see them everywhere and it's easy to forget to photograph anything else.

I've recently been reading a book about fungi by the prodigiously knowledgeable and wildly eccentric Merlin Sheldrake which has further impressed upon me just how vital it is to have a thriving population of fungi in woodland areas. It looks as though these woods are doing OK, at least for the time being.

Our path has led us to the edge of the trees where the shafts of sunlight make me raise my head for a few moments. There are many meadows breaking up the tree cover and giving variety to the landscape.

But how did this pattern of land use come about, so close to London? Before the days of easy and efficient transport it was vital that the growing city had a nearby supply of timber (for house-building, ship-building, furniture-making and fuel) and of fresh milk. This part of Hertfordshire, with its heavy soils which could not easily be drained and ploughed, fitted the bill perfectly. And now, of course, it's part of the Metropolitan Green Belt and protected from large-scale development.

Heads down for more dainty mushrooms!

We met a woman who told us that there were "proper fairy-tale mushrooms, you know, the red ones with white spots" in a certain part of the wood - "in the place where I walk my dog". Hmmm....

Another person we met explained how, despite appearances, the reserve is under pressure in these modern times. The population around here has grown, is more mobile and now information is shared so easily by social media. Whereas there were once just a few local people picking mushrooms, there are now large numbers descending on the area. There is a theoretical limit imposed on how many 'shrooms you can take, but it's not enforced.

In spring there was a "secret" bluebell meadow, known only to a few. Then someone thought it was a good idea to mention it on national television, and irresponsible visitors trampled the area to get their "selfies".

Across the centre of the wood there's a wide, rough road that follows a dead straight line, crossing a couple of small streams. Absolutely ideal to ride motorbikes up and down! They'd been there at the weekend and churned up the path so much that we abandoned our plan to follow it, after I'd made a closer-than-intended inspection of Hertfordshire's heavy, ill-drained soils.

This old tractor has been here for many years. I photographed it some ten years ago, when there was slightly more of it than there is now.

Back to the fungi. I noticed that there were fewer of them as we got nearer to the road - was that the result of foraging or maybe just that the road follows drier ground which is less suited to the growth of fungi. Oh, but how did I forget this one...

The star of the show, the unmistakable Fly Agaric or amanita muscaria. It is poisonous and contains psychoactive substances. I always wondered if its association with elves and fairies is due to people eating it and hallucinating.

As usual the bracken beneath the trees is changing colour before the leaves. 

Despite its occasional problems it remains a wonderful place to wander and observe the changing seasons. With any luck we're on the path which will lead us back to the car.

*******

On the way home we passed this remarkable structure....

It stands in the village of Little Berkhamsted and is called Stratton's Tower. Admiral John Stratton had it built in 1789, allegedly so that he could see the ships on the Thames. It's made of old hand-made bricks which had been salvaged from a large house nearby. They are at least 250 years older than the tower itself. The idea that you might see ships from here is usually rubbished by all modern writers. But it is only 17 miles away as the crow flies, and you can easily see the towers of Canary Wharf from ground level a few miles north of here. So, with the height of his tower and a good telescope might Admiral Stratton have been able to at least see the masts of ships navigating the Thames?

Take care.