Wet morning

The Scots have a good word for it: 'dreek'. Growing up on the western slopes of the Pennines, I learned to call this weather 'mizzle', a mixture of 'drizzle and mist. Whatever the name, this is miserable weather. I walk the dog most mornings before breakfast and it is often a delight to do so, but on a morning like this when visibility is limited, it is difficult to find much to commend it. It becomes a trudge through the woods and a plod across fields. There were two rabbits abroad this morning which is unusual, but then I have often considered that rabbits are particularly sensitive to approaching weather. If the rabbits are seen feeding during broad daylight, there is every chance that it will rain later. These two feeding at such a late hour,following a wet night, could suggest that the rain is set for the rest of the day and  they were getting a feed in whilst they could,.

We refer to this as our green and pleasant land, but, without the rain and the mild weather it brings, the land would be neither green nor pleasant.

First frost

This morning brought the first frost of the winter. Just a slight dusting of the grass, but a chilling hint of what follows. I walked down to the village green for the first time this week and was surprised to see the number of branches shed by the stream side willows. The stream flows strongly but is almost blocked in places by all the storm debris.
Took Dylan to one of the local lakes, and the first thing I saw was a kingfisher. Seen against the morning sun, I could only see it in profile, but its unmistakable shape and call ensured an accurate identification.The sun reflecting on the still lake through rising mist brought recollections of my time in the Algonquin, though only little grebes were to be seen, not the majestic loons of that far off place. My reverie was broken by the noisy take-off of a pair of cormorants that had been perched close to the shore and as I emerged from the wood, my view also took in a small flotilla of tufted duck, and numerous coots.
Had to take several detours from the path to circumvent fallen trees.

Awoke this morning to a bright clear crisp autumnal day. The wood may not be devastated by the storm but there is damage enough. Debris lies everywhere and you need to be even more careful than is normally necessary when placing your feet to a'void being tripped by small branches. A few larger trees and a number of large limbs have also come down. An eroded footpath leading into the wood has recently been restored with considerable effort put into the placing of steps to allow easier access. This route is currently blocked by a large ash branch. It is noticeable that most of the trees that have gone over were those covered with ivy. This parasitic plant, is often said to do no harm to its hosts, but when the wind blows, its extra weight can prove fatal. But then, fallen trees provide  rotten wood and a good many invertebrates rely on this. The gaps produced in the canopy will allow for regeneration and the wood will continue to flourish as a habitat for creatures large and small.
The animals within the wood are likely to have escaped unscathed. The rabbits would have been underground during the storm, along with the badgers. The dormice whilst still active during this mild autumn, should have been safe in their coppice bottom nests, whilst the few birds to be found at this time of year (mainly robins and blackbirds), will have sought shelter low down in holly bushes and should not have been harmed.
Across the country, four deaths related to the storm show its intensity, and its potential for harm, but here its effects can be seen as a balance between the damage caused and the benefits from the clearing out of weak timbers.

Gusts of up to 99 miles per hour have been reported, but here in Kent the effects have been somewhat muted. I suspected that 66 miles per hour has been more likely.
The sky at one point was full of gulls, and although anthropomorphism is an anathema, they appeared to delight in displaying their aerobatic skills when flying into the wind, tacking and gliding to negligible effect. There were far more dog-walkers about than is usually the case, travel restrictions preventing many people from making their usual commute to work.
Two pergolas have been blown over in the garden, one wooden and the other a metal construction, I shall await the winds abating before attempting to remedy the situation
One bonus was that the road was strewn with cooking apples. I collected about 5 lbs in a short time and shall prepare, them before freezing in a stewed state.
I kept well shy of the woods, though there seems to have been little risk involved.

Nature Notes UK: I walk the wood most mornings. Dylan my border col...

Nature Notes UK: I walk the wood most mornings. Dylan my border col...: I walk the wood most mornings. Dylan my border collie/whippet cross accompanies me. This morning things have changed. Well-trodden pathways ...

I walk the wood most mornings. Dylan my border collie/whippet cross accompanies me. This morning things have changed. Well-trodden pathways are no longer familiar. There is no chance of my getting lost; the routes through the wood are far too well-known for that to happen, but habitual turnings have taken a new dimension. The cause of all this is the heavy fall of leaves in the night. A blustery downpour of rain has persuaded many of the trees that the time has arrived for them to finally give up their seasonal hold upon the canopy.
The wood is mainly comprised of sweet chestnut trees and although early indications had suggested a poor harvest, the floor is actually covered with very many brown nuts, though many are undersized. Nevertheless, I have collected enough for roasting on the open fire. But it is the new carpet of leaves that has fundamentally changed the character of the wood and made my twists and turns slightly more hesitant than is usually the case. This however is just a forewarning of what is likely for the morrow. The forecast is for gale force winds and this could well mean that my walk is curtailed. The chestnuts have very tall straight trunks which sway prodigiously in a strong wind, but, are likely to stay upright. I love to be out and feel the full force of nature in its many and varied aspects, but the risk has to be taken into account and a wood in a hurricane is not the safest place to be. The animals and birds should be largely unaffected, and from my selfish perspective, there should be plenty of fallen timber to help me supply the fire.