New Year on Purdown

The weather on New Year's Day was utterly bleak, but dogs must be walked, so out Cwtch and I went for a quick - ie non-tussocky - walk along the paths of Purdown. A rousing rendition of 'Good Night, Irene' could be heard drifting over the mean streets of Horfield from the Memorial Ground, where Rovers would later lose 3 - 2 to Leyton Orient, but otherwise any residual festive feeling seemed to have been washed away by the rain. 

Love, though - there's always at least some love ...

... as well as some fungi putting up a decent challenge in the colour stakes.

But the next morning was forecast to be clear, so, having dropped a convalescent Northerner at the station to catch his early train, Cwtch and I returned to Purdown to watch the first sunrise in what felt like ages.

Cossham Hospital - the highest point in Bristol - on the skyline

We walked swiftly along to the battery, and the sun, when it appeared, rose over Solsbury Hill. (Yes, that one. And no, it was probably a wood pigeon.) 

I worked out it has another eight miles to travel up to Tormarton interchange before its rising becomes visible from our bedroom window, and about seven weeks to do it in. (Highly unscientific, and probably geographically suspect too, but I'm so looking forward to the return of the light.)

Then back through Hermitage and Long Wood.

And then ... oh great good fortune ... a repeat performance the following morning. 

A view of Freezing Hill from a freezing hill

Even Cwtch stopped snuffling and running about to watch the sun ...

... and Bristol was beautiful, drowsing in frost and mist.

And then the grazing goats came out of their pen to enjoy the spectacle, a judicious slipping of Cwtch back onto her lead being deemed necessary at this point. (She is a collie, after all.)

The morning sun when it's in your face really ... is a wonderful feeling 

small teasels

Holy Trinity, Stapleton

Looking along the ridge to the replacement Duchess Ponds and the Dower House

Cwtch in frost

a wintry buzzard

Purdown after Storm Darragh

Someone on Bluesky said that Storm Darragh sounded like someone wanted to say Storm Darren but then got hit by the storm. I remember the Great Storm of 1987 and the Burns' Day Storm of 1990 and it was nothing like as bad as them, but it was still pretty rough for a couple of days, Bristol being under a red storm warning.

In the three and a half weeks since, I've been up on Purdown - one of the highest points in Bristol - several times and have seen up to a dozen sizeable trees downed around the Stoke Park estate. It's been pretty sobering.

There are trees down in Long Wood ...

... Hermitage Wood ...

 

... Barn Wood ...

... and out in the grounds of Stoke Park. 

A fallen crow's nest

Unless they've fallen across a metalled path, downed trees in Stoke Park tend to be made safe - ie not likely to fall any further - and then left, so any sadness caused by the storm's iconoclasm is tempered by the knowledge that they will continue to provide habitat for local wildlife. Some trees that fell in earlier storms and remain partially rooted continue to leaf and flourish.

Preceding the storm, there was a lot of rain. The pools of standing water reminded me of the Wood between the Worlds in 'The Magician's Nephew' by C S Lewis; how, if you jumped into one of them, you'd find yourself plummeting through a portal into a different universe. 

The secret language of one of those other universes

gold leaf

There have been foggy days too ... 

... and even some bright days, with spectacular skies that are seen to their best advantage from Purdown. 

The Dower House

Looking east over Stapleton to Kelston Roundhill and south to the Mendips

Purdown Percy gun emplacements

Looking over west Bristol to Southmead Hospital ...

... and north to New Filton House, a view that will soon disappear when the houses have been built

Even the drab winter woods come alive when there's some light.

autumn and winter fungi

The work of the cherry gall wasp

Somehow, the deer are as invisible amongst the bare trees as they were in thick summer foliage, though they're clearly about.

Apart from the rose-ringed parakeets, the noisiest birds in the woods are the corvids. I missed the jay that was seen off by Cwtch but here are some crows and magpies.

What crow?

Magpies bonding through courtship feeding

A pie chart

There's still plenty of winter left, but the birds will soon be busying themselves and in another month, the days will be noticeably lighter. Roll on spring.