New Forest Village Stroll

This afternoon I took a wander through my home village.

Swapping between sunglasses and brolly, nature was embracing the contrast. Berries and seeds were already growing on trees and shrubs, while wild grasses swayed in the meadows.

The trees - old and gnarly were full of fairy holes, growing in peculiar shapes like a secret nature code that only the forest fae can read. Tawny owls perch there, and fledged woodpeckers call from hidden branches.

Speckled wood butterflies braved the raindrops to feed on flowering bramble, and I knew I was being watched by a fallow deer somewhere in the woodland.

Local gardens were popping with colour and alive with the familiar sounds of fledgling garden birds. The sun burst through the thick grey clouds and light bounced from the puddled lane. Passing the pub, I stopped to admire the new thatch and the amusing characters the talented master thatcher had included.

The verges were embellished with purple self-heal and yellow dandelions, where bees browsed between the showers.

Thistles were budding and butterflies fluttered through the long grass in anticipation. Clover climbed to compete with the grasses, and elderflower was beginning to fade on the sun-burnished trees. I caught sight of the tip of a fox's tail heading through the wild meadow; perhaps he'd just been trying on some new gloves, as they were displayed along the meadow's edge.

Rather than walking roadside, I diverted across the green where an ancient oak stands. Without fail, in all the years I have lived here, jackdaws have nested among its protective boughs. This year is no different.

The sky grew heavy once more and, beneath the shelter of the woodland canopy, the heavens opened. I could see the ponies sheltering beneath the trees with their foals, while oyster mushrooms fruited from a dead beech.

As I neared the edge of the woods and began the last stretch home, the sun emerged as quickly as the rain had arrived. The ox-eye daisies in the churchyard danced in celebration as the wildflowers, herbs and grasses came alive once more with the gentle hum of pollinators.

Just before reaching home, I watched a red kite fly somewhat ungainly into the breeze towards the trees. An even rarer sight was my rural lane, quiet of traffic for a fleeting moment.