Rain has loosened the roots of many trees along the hillsides and footpaths of our neighbourhood and it was instructive to see how they fell. In managed woodland, such as this afternoon's ramble, trees are hauled off the paths and laid neatly down, or piled up in bug havens. Pink spots indicated trees deemed a risk in need of felling. Moss takes hold on fallen trunks making them look like green pillars. Fungus flourishes, one such a bright red that I mistook it for a discarded crisp packet.
Before the winter storms began the volunteers had shored up the banks of the stream with stout timbers and replaced all the bridges, of which there are quite a few. Part of the charm of this walk is following the bends and criss-crossing the little bridges. At times it felt like some former landscaped estate, though without the omnipresent rhododendrons.
Our first walk this week provided the contrast. We passed under an 'echoey' railway bridge, the kind we loved as children, decorated with several graffiti, one with eyes, warning us to 'look behind you'. Behind us was the managed area where volunteers 'balsam bash', hold communal picnics by the football pitches and fund raise. In front was an area under local authority inspection but friendless.
We passed at a distance, three persons in hi-vis jackets, one with a clipboard taking notes. All three of the bridges that led across to the old golf course were beginning to rot and had been boarded up on both sides. The watercourse, a gentle stream at most times of the year was eroding the banks and had taken the sandy soil leaving little coves where tree roots dangled - another storm and no doubt they will succumb. Some trees had already fallen across the water and right at the end of the walk before we retraced our steps the largest one we encountered was across the path and we ducked to get under.
On the way back I noticed how many of the crowns of the mature trees were beginning to die.
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