It's been a bit of a dark autumn, and having found myself in need of colour as the days dwindled, I set off for some of our local woods (with Cwtch, of course).
First, a couple of trips to Badock's Wood. On the day of the first visit, the weather was gloomy but dry ... at least, it was when we'd left the house. Not long after we arrived, the skies opened and it tipped with rain. Rain after rain after rain, and River Trym was running much higher and faster than usual.
This isn't the river; it's a stream of water running down the path that leads to it.
Cwtch and I have worked hard on overcoming her fear of water, and I didn't want to risk her progress, so we steered clear of the river while it was running so high.
As we squelched around the edge of the fields above the miniature gorge, I saw that someone other than me notices the stone marker on the footpath, and has attached some sort of the meaning to it in the absence of any information (I've been able to find) online.
When we returned a couple of weeks later, we saw that this autumn, their poo is gold. Gold! Can't think what they've been eating.
It was much drier for that second visit, and the river looked more its usual self.
Cwtch, who's been having calming treats to get her through firework season, had an unaccustomed fit of bravery while I was studying some fungi on the fallen tree that arches high over the Trym, and started to trot over it, before looking down, realising how high she was, and returning smartly to the bank.
Jelly ear, Bracket fungus and ... Oh. Hmmm. I have precious little knowledge when it comes to fungus, but these possible woodtufts, or honey fungus, also look enough like galerina marginata - also known as funeral bells and deadly skullcap - for me to want to keep my distance
more spectacular spindle berries
Inbetween the two visits to Badock's Wood, we also went for a walk at Three Brooks Nature Reserve in Bradley Stoke, with my friend, Liz. Again, the streams were running high, this one Patchway Brook.
As usual, we were talking too hard for me to take many photos, but here's the view from the top of the tump ...
... which was itself water-logged in places.
Savage's Wood
I met up with Liz again, and a few other longtime friends, a week or so later, for a walk in Leigh Woods, on the Somerset side of the Avon Gorge. Again, few photos because we were so busy chatting.
The water-hating Cwtch had a bit of a shock when she jumped over the low wall into a meadow, only to discover that the grass was duckweed, the field a pond, and she had to scramble back over the wall to safety.
Paradise Bottom
River Avon, looking downstream
Since the Covid pandemic, I've been more inclined to study my maps of Bristol and seek out new places to walk, rather than necessarily heading off in the car, and just this last fortnight I found a new wood with public access just two miles from where I live. It starts at the edge of the Stoke Park, above the M32, and curves around Sims' Hill until it reaches Filton Road. The paths are either concrete or metalled, which cuts down on the mud a bit this time of year.
With motorway and residential streets so close, Cwtch stayed on the lead for the outward part of our walk, until I was familiar with the lie of the land, whether there are fences between the trees and the traffic, and so on.
At a spot where ash trees had been felled because of dieback, and treelings planted, there was a view of Nearly Home bridge, the blue railway bridge that spans the M4 near its junction with the M32.
a tiny piece of hoggin I found on the path
After we'd reached Filton Road and turned around to retrace out steps, Cwtch could come off the lead till almost the end of the walk.
I was pleased to see how well looked after the woods were, with heaps of branches providing shelter for all sorts of wildlife.
Cwtch went to have a look at a pond, but being a clever collie, didn't fall for the old duckweed trick a second time.
Towards the end of the walk, we were back near the M32 again - you can just spot a sign to the left of the trees in the above photo - so Cwtch went back on the lead until we got to the car. A lovely new walk we'll try again in different seasons.
Finally, we also went on a few walks through Stoke Park itself, Cwtch and I mostly, though sometimes accompanied by the Northerner. Some days were wet, and the dry stream beds in Pale Plantation and Barn Wood remembered their true nature.
One day it was so wet and dark that Cwtch flatly refused to go into the woods, where it was darker still, so we walked along Purdown to the World War II gun emplacements instead. We got thoroughly wet away from the shelter of the trees, but she must have had a reason not to want to go in, and respecting her felt like the sensible thing to do.
Other days have been misty and other-wordly, both out in the park ...
... and in the woods.
And then there have been the few days of glorious sun, when the longed-for colours blazed into life.
One day was a bad day and that was the day after the US election. Stoke Park is near the main site of the University of the West of England and no one looked happy ...
... apart from Cwtch.
Not the original Duchess Lake
I did find a small but surprisingly colourful fungus growing from a pile of cow shit that morning, which just about summed things up, really.
two slugs eating Dog's Vomit slime mould
Purdown also yielded the last few feathers of the late season in September ...
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: buzzard, magpie feathers x 3, jay feathers x 2, tawny owl and woodpigeon
... a few bits of hoggin ...
It was like that when I got here!
Well, perhaps the second one wasn't as much obliging as dead. It did make me think about how much of what we think of as a squirrel's tail is attitude.
And there's always the trees that tell you to keep on going, by virtue of the fact that's what they're doing even though they've fallen.