Encounter

It is now just about light when I reach the forest, the day lengthening sufficiently to temper the shadows that push out from the thick stands of regimented conifers. The light, however, remains weak so early in the year and fails to lift the dull tones of the late winter landscape. The pale, silver-grey trunks of Beech, a small stand of which provides a thin veneer on the edge of the plantation, are stark reminders that spring proper is several weeks away. The ochres and russets of Bracken stands lay like sodden carpets, slowly rotting back into the ground; the few deciduous trees remain bare, starkly silhouetted against the sky and creating the illusion that this is a world of just two dimensions.

Under such conditions the land can seem very empty of life but it is there, just below the surface and steadying itself for the approaching spring. The most obvious signs of life are the birds, the noisy chattering of Siskins, large flocks of which can be found across the forest. While some of these birds will have bred locally, many more will have arrived from breeding grounds further north and east, mobile across the Continent in search of conifer seeds. Also in evidence are various mammals, most notably the Grey Squirrels which take to the trees as soon as they become aware of my arrival. The squirrels have, no doubt, been seeking out the food they buried back in the autumn, when there was plenty to eat and enough to store for the darker days ahead. Then there are the hunkered forms of Muntjac, heads down and feeding on the understorey vegetation. These too are alert to my presence and keep a respectful distance, ready to bound away, white tails erect.

On certain mornings, such as this, I am treated to a brief glimpse of the Red Deer which inhabit this part of the forest. They seem to be the most secretive of the deer, allowing only chance encounters and preferring to slip away unnoticed. Today I am lucky, they spot me at a distance and seem content to stand and watch my approach. Tall and erect, with an elegance of pose that suggests a degree of confidence, they remind me of a group of opera-goers, aloof and self-assured. This suggestion of tolerance is a front, for once I get a bit closer the confidence is lost and they turn quickly away, trotting off into a young plantation with nervous backward glances. That is the last that I will see of them today but it is good to know that they are still here, making the most of the forest at this quiet time of the year.