Appleslade, New Forest: The pointed ends of a stack of huge fencing posts makes them look like grey pencils sharpened for use by some giant of the woods
The drone of a plane cutting across unbroken blue skies momentarily drowned out the crunch of our footsteps on the frozen snow still lying on north-facing slopes. We had come to Appleslade, an area we'd not previously explored, to be watched warily by a group of ponies sheltering from the frosty air while browsing on holly at the woodland edge. Not far away, more were enjoying the warmth where the sun was reflecting off a boundary fence.
The track into the inclosure is bounded on one side by a high deer fence in front of which are stacked branches and twigs, the detritus of forestry operations. Most are now a dried fading brown but some remnants still have the colour and texture of the living pines from which they came.
Across the track, the snow makes pretty a scene that otherwise would be one of devastation. Timber unfit for use lies around, some of it from deadwood that has been cleared. A huge log straddles the stream and higher up, just below the tree line, is a long trunk, cut into precise lengths, awaiting collection. So, too, is a stack of huge fencing posts whose pointed ends make them look like grey pencils sharpened for use by some giant of the woods. The felling has left the sweet chestnuts free to develop into mature trees whose nuts will be foraged by man and beast for years to come.
We cut through the area to emerge on a hillside sufficiently shaded to remain well covered with snow. Parallel tracks speak of the enjoyment given when weather and landscape combine to entertain tobogganers for a few short hours. At the brow of Mount Hill we enjoy the fine view north, across Appleslade Bottom, and Ogdens some distance beyond, to where the skyline becomes a misty smudge.