Day 185 - Rain

Auerhahn III modelling completed

Bad Wildbad yesterday caught in a brief moment of sunlight, today continues in much the same style though possibly with more rain.

When I go wandering into the forest to keep the blog short I tend to write about what I have photographed and omit many observations that may occur along the way. Seeing a buzzard close-up yesterday prompted me to make an exception and write this short one off entry of a typical short walk. The walk was otherwise uncommonly uneventful.

Yesterday afternoon

Donned for winter in boots and windproof jacket I venture out into what is clearly a windy day having noted the swaying trees from my kitchen window. Its cold, not freezing of course but I am certainly not over dressed in my zipped up jacket. The sky is an endless billowing grey cloud in various shades of anger and the odd cold raindrop hits my brow as I head out of the village. The wind is noisy as it rushes through the tall slender pine trees making them sway dramatically in all directions and it feels more like late autumn than mid summer. Soon after leaving the village road surrounded by pine trees I disturb a buzzard on the path a few metres ahead. It spreads its large brown wings, takes flight and disappears around the corner. It is all over before my hand holding the camera in my pocket can react. Normally buzzards are just black silhouettes circling high in the sky but in the last month I have been close enough on several occasions to make out their majestic brown plumage.

I pass ‘Heermanns’ hut a log construction reminiscent of a bus shelter, then further on the dead tree trunk where the great spotted woodpecker’s had nested. At the crossroads I veer left onto a wider track capable of taking forest vehicles. Ahead swaying pines indicate a strong wind and moments later it arrives, a roaring gust shaking branches and rustling leaves. Exchanging the track for a narrow grassy trail. I head deep into the dim woods passing the large ants nest without a glance. Waist high in bracken the path emerges into daylight again and joins a wider grass track. Here is a rare patch of open forest cleared by hurricane ‘Lothar’ in 1999, which ripped down large areas of trees. A few uprooted trees still remain among many stumps poking out like tombstones in an old graveyard. The track is muddy here and water fills the grooves left by forest vehicles.

Inspecting raspberries near the next hut a female blackcap distracts me with its frantic display feigning injury and chirping madly trying maybe to lure me away from its nest. It only serves to make me more curious and while photographing it darting about I spot its male companion equally agitated up in a tree. The blackcaps remain at a safe distance frustrating any ambitions that I may have at becoming a wildlife photographer. I return to the raspberries; don’t they fruit in late summer or autumn? Or is that blackberries. I carry on to the halfway point.

While approaching the main crossroads an intrepid white butterfly flutters through the dank forest making a dash between trees during a brief lull. A surprising encounter in these conditions and apart from the odd hardy honeybee all other insects are absent. The butterfly takes refuge in a tree but by the time I have negotiated my way through marsh and around bracken I can no longer pick out which branch it landed on. Another photo opportunity lost.

At the main crossroads turning left goes to ‘Five trees’ hut but today to keep it short I turn right for home. The route back is a straight grey gravelled track lined in places with stacked felled trees useful for pausing on. A jogger thumps past absorbed in the rhythm of exercise. The unripe fruit from an apple tree lies crushed on the gravel track, shed too early it would seem or maybe it is crab apple that fruits earlier. A check for fungi in a favourite location results in two small St. George’s mushrooms and a shower from low hanging branches. The noise of churning gravel disturbs me and through the trees I catch a brief glimpse of red, a mountain biker training possibly for the championship at the end of the month. Man and machine a breed as elusive as the wildlife. With my short walk almost complete I exit the forest onto the village road again and a panoramic sky, an endless grey duvet. At least the rain held off. Time for a cup of tea.