Up the Zig-Zag Path to Selborne Hanger

Once a year, between my sons' birthdays, the Sussex contingent of our family meets up with the Bristol contingent approximately half way between the two places, to hand over presents and late Easter eggs. (We also both do several trips all the way from one place to the other, but the drive-share idea has the added advantage of allowing us to sample pub lunches in new places.) In 2021, we met up at Avebury; in 2022 in the ghost village of Imber. Last year we dropped the incipient tradition, only for the Bristolian branch to get stuck on the M25 for four hours, so we reverted to the original plan this.

Originally, we planned to meet in Winchester, but since the dog's presence was required, we figured she might be happier somewhere more rural, and as I'm interested in the 18th century naturalist, Gilbert White and thought some of our party might be at least a little familiar with Captain Lawrence ('I may be gone some time ... ') Oates, Selborne in Hampshire, with its museum dedicated to both men, seemed a good choice.   

As it turned out, we were a little late meeting up, and the pub lunch took somewhat longer than expected, and Son the Younger couldn't get back home too late as he'd arranged to go out with mates, and the dog needed a walk, obviously, so we never did get to the museum. Instead, we climbed the Zig-Zag path, cut by Gilbert White's brother in 1753, which provides a relatively easy route up Selborne Hanger, one of the highest hills in Hampshire and an example of the ancient wood pasture and beech woodlands that characterise this part of the county.

The Zig-Zag Path

Woodland growing on the steep slope

Half-way up

At the top of the steps we sat on the bench and had some birthday cake. There was a good view of the village of Selborne, and at some distance, the white radomes that form part of the listening station at RAF Oakhanger.

Even just the small piece of the common that we explored was home to some really impressive trees.

red campion

a sad scattering of pin feathers, suggesting a raided nest

By the time we started our way back down the path, I'd already decided I need to return some time, possibly a little later in the year, when there are more flowers and insects about. 

My first sanicle of ... ever, actually, as I don't think I've spotted this umbellifer before

wood sorrel

wild strawberry 

hart's-tongue fern