One walk, two woods and lots of fungi

8 December 2014

As I walked through the gate into the woodland behind the Bursledon Windmill I wasn’t entirely convinced no huge, slavering dogs would appear. At first I was looking around nervously but, when I spotted some jelly ear fungi on a fallen branch, I forgot all about dogs. Looking closer there were patches of some semi translucent, creamy spots that looked suspiciously like slime mould on the same branch. As I’d probably only walked about ten paces at this point it seemed like a good sign.

At first I could still see the windmill and the granary through the trees but, as I walked further, they disappeared from view. When I saw a tree, long dead but still standing, I stopped, expecting another fungi fest but, apart from some lichen, it turned out to be disappointing. On I tramped, deeper into the small wood, stopping every so often and looking around me for things of interest. Oh and dogs, I’d not quite forgotten them.

The little wood was small enough that I knew it would be almost  impossible to get lost, even for me, so I left the small circular trail, clambering over fallen branches and pushing through twigs blocking the path I’d chosen. Away from the trail the wood sloped downwards and my feet sank into thick piles of fallen leaves in places. Eventually I realised I could go no further. The scrubby undergrowth and saplings were getting thicker and, in the distance, I could hear the roar of the motorway breaking into the peace of the place.

Even with all the stopping and looking around I’d seen no more fungi which was disappointing after such a good start. Then, as I turned to retrace my steps, something caught my eye. It looked like a porous white stone laying next to a fallen birch branch but, when I bent to look closer, it revealed itself as a fungus. It looked like a young polypore of some kind. Then again it could have been something else altogether.

Getting back to the real trail wasn’t quite as easy as I’d anticipated (when is it ever?). Although I thought I was pretty much retracing my steps I patently wasn’t because what looked like a clear, fairly wide trail ended in a thicket of holly. Pushing through tangles of thin branches is one thing, holly is something else altogether unless you happen to be wearing protective clothing. Once again, turning around ended up being a blessing in disguise. The fallen silver birch branch I stepped over was home to a host of polypores. I’d stumbled upon fungi heaven right at my feet.

Close by a fairly large branch had rotted away completely leaving just an empty birch bark shell. How curious. With a little clambering and not too much going in circles I made it back to the circular trail. Along the way I found some slightly more colourful fungi, all Browns and oranges. They looked like young tinder fungi to me but I could be wrong. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a fungus identifier. It doesn’t stop me looking though.

When I began to see initials carved on trees I knew I was back on the proper trail. One heart shaped carving caught my eye. The tree has begun to heal itself around the wound making a teardrop within a heart. Lovely. Not long after this I saw the windmill again through a clearing in the trees. I was almost back to the start and not one single dog had bothered me for the half hour I’d been wandering.

With one last look up at the new windmill sails I set off down Windmill Lane on the boring walk home. This time I decided I’d cross the road at the earliest opportunity and walk on the opposite side. There was method in my madness, there’s a Costa Coffee at the bottom of the second hill on that side and, despite my gloves my hands were freezing. There would be no take away coffees this time, I was taking a break from the cold and sitting down.

With my hands warmed, albeit briefly, and feeling a little more energetic after the coffee, I set off again towards the village. Because I was on the other side of the road this led me to the underpass below the big bypass rather than past the church. As I’d already been through the churchyard earlier I decided to walk home through Hum Hole. You can never walk through too many woods, right?

At least these are woods I know with clear trails. Going on past experience I didn’t expect to find any fungi but, after all that road walking, it would be good to get back to the leaf mould and dappled light even if only for a short while.

When I was a child Hum Hole was much larger. A large chunk of it was eaten up by the bypass, which seems a shame but it does take the majority of traffic away from the village so I guess I shouldn’t complain. It’s actually a fragment of the ancient woodland that once ran right down to the Itchen at Chessel Bay. There may be less of it now but there’s still a stream and, apparently it’s home to palmate newts, although I’ve never seen any.

Despite not expecting to see any fungi, almost at once I spotted some very large, very old birch polypores. One was a clover shape and the other had a hole, filled with water, that looked like a miniature pond. Funny how I’ve been past the same spot many times and not seen them at all but they must have been there all along.

Soon I was on the main, tarmac path that leads to the road close to my house. This area is more open with lots of bright sunshine rather than dappled shade. This was the final leg of my walk so I wasn’t really looking for fungi. The ones I found could hardly be missed though. Just off the path lots of huge creamy white mushrooms with curly edges had me fishing my phone out of my pocket one last time. It never ceases to amaze me the things that turn up when I least expect them.