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Puckpits, New Forest

It may be cold, damp and grey but there is still beauty and colour to be found in the New Forest.



I took time out from wreath making to recce next weeks spiritual and ancestral pilgrimage - Puckpits and the forest welcomed me back.. The holly pickers were out in force and the robins were taking advantage of the dropping berries.



The berries are so vivid in colour and plump enough to keep any robin well fed. Against the grey sky, the bright yellow gorse flower popped with vibrancy and the dead bracken is almost maroon against the browning heather.



My footsteps were more of a slap than a crunch in the puddled landscape as I climbed the path of Murrays passage, but soggy boots were worth it for the views across from Stonnard wood.



This is where the energy changes. There is something beautifully Mystical about this walk and as I stop to admire the wayfinder tree leaning on its elbows a raven called from above.



This tree often has good intended offerings left on its low branches, which I believe goes some way towards the energetic pull to this liminal space. Making my way down the hill I admire the views across the heath as the constant rumble from the A31 disappears into the background. As I turn the corner, there they are!



The two ancient beech trees that pull you in. I challenge anyone to just simple walk past without stepping under their canopies or stroke the moss on their trunks.



I always feel the need to walk between them and through the gate into Puckpits enclosure. They feel like a gateway into another world! Maybe they are? There is folktales of pixies and fairy folk spotted in these woods. I must admit, there is something about this place?



As I was enjoying the stillness of the woodland I was accompanied by a constant chatter of fieldfares and long-tail tits. Stopping for a moment to admire the lichen dripping from the branches,



I heard a gentle hoot from a tawny owl. It was more of an acknowledgement of my presence and a polite passing of the day rather than a territorial warning. I could not see him, but I returned the compliment before heading out of the woods to admire views once more from 'Burnetts bench'



but before getting too cold, I splaoshed back to the car with warmth in my heart and joy in my mind.


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