Early start

A simple question for a landscape photography exam.

Question : If sunrise is at 04.50 hrs and it takes 55 mins to travel by car, what time does the alarm clock need to be set for?

Answer :  Working back from sunrise, allow; 30 mins to find some inspiration; 30 mins walk in head torch; 5 mins to get suited and booted; 10 mins for wildlife encounters on the car journey; 25 mins for 2 cups of coffee, morning ablutions and regain full consciousness and 10 mins snooze = 02.05 hrs

Dawn

In actual fact the wildlife was far more arresting with headlights revealing the need to brake for Deer, Fox cubs and twice stops made for hedgehogs that curled up and needed to be carefully shoed out of the road to the safety of the verge. It did occur to me that if BBC broadcast Springwatch live at dawn there'd be a lot more interesting fauna seen.

It's been a few years since conditions presented the opportunity to revisit this location for dawn, the late flowering of Mossy Saxifrage with sunrise to the NE.  The last visit was met with rain, this visit revealed an extensive bank of low cloud/fog over the Herefordshire/Worcestershire border exactly where the sun would rise, sigh. A clear  sky overhead, meant a less than optimal twilight illumination. Also hill fog was ominously covering the visible hill summits to the north and depressingly a surprisingly brisk and chilly NW'ly wind was vortexing down from the hill above. The wind has been a notable feature of late spring/early summer 2015 on the western side of the UK and sadly it has impacted on trips and subject matter, a pity really as the air clarity has been excellent.

Warm light

The prospect of flowers illuminated by first light, bit the dust. A less than convincing image of another view was made, that tried to minimise any foreground elements that could be affected by the wind, whilst waiting for light levels to rise as the sun cleared the cloud. Sometimes there are just too many compromises made prior to a composition.

Sheltered Mossy Saxifrage

It is frustrating when events don't meet expectations, doubly so when the location has so much interest for the flora and geomorphology, but the wind strength meant that isolated cushions of flowers needed to be sought out in the lee of trees, boulder lobes or sheltered hollows in the block field debris. In hindsight,  maybe I should have gone with an image in a low light, long exposure, of a blurred flower carpet? Maybe next year?

Mossy Saxifrage

Landscape lens odyssey part I - The benefits of stopping down the aperture

The first post in a series looking at how I arrived at a stable of lenses for my landscape photography as a Canon 1Ds3 owner and dedicated tripod user. 

There is a valid observation that photographers obsess over lens quality, viewing images at the pixel level and ultimately losing sight of the important factors that actually make a compelling photograph. Which is not to denigrate examining an image at pixel level, it can provide feedback on technique, information on the lens character and effect of atmospherics on capturing fine detail. How relevant pixel peeping is on a monitor when images are viewed by the public via a display, book or ideally a print,  I'm not so certain, given the effect of Jpeg compression, ink nozzle diameter and bleed.  Nonetheless, there is compelling evidence on gear forums, where web sized comparisons are posted of images with exif data stripped, from assorted high quality primes, kit zooms etc and the cognoscenti are asked to identify the mystery lenses.  When images are made with wide open apertures there's an impressive hit rate on identifying lenses, when lens apertures are stopped down embarrassment has resulted.  Simply put, many lens optical aberrations and phenomena become more problematic as the physical size of the aperture gets larger and angles of incident light become steeper for marginal and oblique rays of light gathered by the lens.

Optical designers can correct or minimise optical aberrations and phenomena through a combination and selection of optical glass, lens elements, physical size, coatings, tolerances, build etc A comparison of two contemporary lens designs is a perfect illustration of the trade offs in weight, size and cost, to achieve a high level of optical performance wide open.


Zeiss Otus 55mm F1.4 marketed as The best standard lens in the world 
Optical design : 12 lens elements in 10 groups, of which 6 lens elements are made of special glass with anomalous partial dispersion and 1 aspheric lens element.
Weight : 1 Kg
Dimensions : 92.4 mm in diameter and 127.3 mm long without caps.
Focus - manual
Retail price ~ £3,000

Zeiss Otus 55mm f1.4 @ Zeiss

Zeiss Planar T 50mm F1.4 marketed as Reveal the true character
Optical design : 7 lens elements in 6 groups
Weight : 0.38 Kg
Dimensions : 71.3 mm in diameter and 48 mm long without caps.
Focus - manual
Retail price ~ £560

By Tamasflex (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons

There is a revealing test online of comparison images made with the Otus and Planar, taken at a series of apertures with a 36mp full frame Nikon DSLR. Scrutiny of full sized Jpegs, revealed to my subjective eyes, that at wide apertures the Otus demonstrates its high optical performance convincingly, whilst the nature of the optical aberrations in the Planar give it distinctive 'drawing style' or 'look'.  Stopped down to F8 and F11 the Planar's optical performance is very respectable in comparison to the Otus.  As the aperture reduces in size i.e is stopped down, the angles of incident light become shallower for marginal and oblique rays of light gathered by the lens and many optical aberrations cease to be an issue.  It emphasises that when considering a lens, landscape photographers need to consider the respective optical performance of a lens when it is stopped down against size, weight, build and price.

Landscape aesthetics and philosophy

One upside of sharing digs with humanities students was the window into a different outlook on the world from an engineering students, where ‘Laws’ and ‘First principles’ frame the subjects.  There would be idealistic and ‘lively’ discussions on the brain and human perception of the world, nature vs nurture, what is reality, the great artists creative works etc. The 'conversations' on right and left brain characteristics were less polarising as everyone seemed to some extent, to have both right and left brain characteristic traits. The perception of order and disorder was one area where everyone could find common ground, usually in a visual context, music was invariably too polarising and the sciences too complicated. The works of Rothko, Dali, Turner, Pollock, DaVinci, Picasso, Hepworth, Lascaux cave paintings, aboriginal art, architecture et al, were appropriated for argument heated discussions. Which essentially boiled down to subjectivity, everyone has their own visual preferences, some artist's are definitely 'marmite', others 'vanilla', none garnered universal approbation. Principle reasons for liking/disliking an artwork was the degree of visual complexity, balance and subject. This was in the time before Wiki or Google, so books and papers were used to reinforce/undermine an opinion or stance, it is surprising how far someone will go to, to passionately defend an artwork. There were also the insights into art history; the value of patronage in raising a profile and gaining wider recognition; artists whose work was feted postmortem and artists whose work was denigrated postmortem; the influence of the establishment, curriculum, teachers and acolytes; the critics, envy, jealousies and egos of artists; the differing art schools movements and not least being in the right place at the right time. On reflection the history of landscape photography is reminiscent of the history of art.

Horizontal layers of moor, trees, hills and sky

Years later I was left to reflect again on visual perception, when a presentation of isometric drawings and elevation plans of a proposed facility met with blank incomprehension from some end users. Back to the drawing board, or in this case an easel, artistic renderings were produced to illustrate the proposed facility, which allowed the end users to critique and buy into the project, which they did. I was left to reflect on how peoples perception of images differ. 

Glacial scouring and erratics

A few years ago I raised the issue of left and right brain characteristics commenting on an article in an online Landscape photography magazine, the context of my comment was that some photographers have a visual stylistic compositional template that is applied to their landscape compositions. The response was a deafening silence and I was left to ponder if my comments were too gauche for the sensibilities of the readership or if I had just inadvertently offended a large section of the community.  

Gneiss terrain 

This 'visual stylistic compositional template' I was referring to, minimises the elements in an image to reduce visual complexity and impose a compositional order on the scene. A prime examples is the layering of distinct horizontal elements in an image i.e  field, hedgerow, sky; salt flat, mountain range, sky; sand, sea, sky; river, moorland, hillside; moorland, distant hills and sky. Low relief landscapes lend themselves to these compositions and lenses can exploit this flattening and layering through their field of view and perspective. Oftentimes there is a single anchor point or element included in the composition be it a boulder, grass tussock, driftwood, tree, lighthouse, tower, building, sign, pier, ice berg, standing stone, jetty etc juxtaposing against horizontal layers and according to art critics 'invites the viewer to look more closely and ask questions of the photographers intent'.  Given the endless compositional potential, there are many landscape photographers who devote themselves exclusively to making images that fall within the aforementioned remit. The resulting images are visually clean, a high degree of order and easy on the eye, what's not to like?  

Interlocking spurs

Well framing the discussion from an alternative viewpoint that has a preference to more visually complex images; there are an endless number of images invariably marketed as fine art with very little interesting content; bland scenery and subject matter; compositionally cliched; soulless; the juxtaposition of a boulder, grass tussock, driftwood, tree, lighthouse, tower, building, sign, pier, ice berg, standing stone, jetty etc is so contrived and according to art critics 'invites the viewer to look more closely and examine the image to see what has been cloned out'. What's there not to dislike? 

Visually complex terrain, weather and lighting

I recollect when starting out on my journey in landscape photography reading articles listing the 'Greatest landscape photographers'  or bestowing the rather grand accolade of 'Master of landscape photography' and feeling perplexed as many of the said Greatest or Master landscape photographers images, whilst demonstrating great technique, understanding of light etc in my subjective opinion, the images held very little subject interest and were devoid of inspiration.  I was drawn to more visually complex terrain, to make images that convey the landscape complexity and visually impart my curiosity on geology and the environment. Which to a certain degree underpins my landscape photography aesthetic and philosophy.

Note - the images in this post were made on a trip to Senja, Norway. September 2014. 

Ne'er cast a cloot till May be oot

Atmospheric highlands

A weeks holiday in Strontian, in the West Highlands of Scotland and a fickle jet stream unerringly changed its track to line up Atlantic lows with accompanying wind and rain, directly at the West Highlands, sigh. Still, I had plans in place to cover all eventualities, I'll also mention that the oh so cunning planning had failed to anticipate the effect on flora of a spell of below average temperatures and dry weather in late April and early May, deeper sigh.

Temperate rainforest

After an early start from the Forest of Dean, we arrived at Glencoe for midday to take in the scenery, stretch the legs and do some spring flora 'ground truthing' with an excursion up into the Coire Gabhail (Lost Valley).  The rain started as we crossed the footbridge over the River Coe. Still, at least the Allt Coire Gabhail was fordable, unlike on a previous visit.

Coire Gabhail (Lost valley)

The flora 'ground truthing' revealed early dog-violets, with wood sorrel and anemones in flower in the woodland below the landslide, but up into the Lost Valley and a more montane microclimate with only early dog-violet's and the emerging leaves of alpine lady's mantle and saxifrage. Aside from savouring the scenery, the excursion showed the effect of a delayed spring and any aspiration of photographing highland alpine/arctic flora was shelved for this trip. It probably explains why June/July is scheduled for paid and guided alpine botanising tours in the highlands.

Atmospheric Glen

The holiday accommodation was excellent with views over Loch Sunart to the Morvern hills giving a pretty good idea of wind direction and strength by the Loch surface and visual indication of the cloud base for a real time hill weather forecast. During the week, I could peer out the window at dawn, take in the view, reset the alarm clock and go back to sleep. The Mountain Weather Information Service forecasts held hope only for those aspiring to practise micro navigation skills in challenging weather and little hope for summit photography, so that ruled out the high summit potential itineraries, unusually for Scotland there wasn't a single dawn that warranted a photographic excursion from a hill summit and dusk excursions were likewise curtailed. Nonetheless, the plan had woodland, glens and minor summits to explore, with 'lichenscapes' and geology as a last photographic resort and I chalked up some brownie points accompanying Nic on wildlife spotting excursions. Wildlife sightings always add something to the Highland experience and this trips highlights being a Golden Eagle hovering about 60m away on a low hill col and a Pine Marten ambling across the road on a return journey from a fruitless vigil for Otters at a hide.

River Strontian 

During the week, winds were fresh from the North and West with accompanying windchill and combined with a warm May sun meant in the space of minutes you could go from full on winter wear and gloves to keep warm and dry, to a base layer to keep cool, a notable feature of the holiday was the number of stops to put on or pull off clothing and rainwear, as the weather changed.

Cladonia diversa

The determining factor for outdoor photography is the wind strength, some effects can be mitigated against, but sustained exposure to strong winds have a dispiriting effect on ambition and with low angled rain it makes a demoralising combination. On higher ground the combination of wind and rain, can generate advection fog, upslope fog or a lowering of the cloud base, all of which make for poor visibility and a signal it is time to descend. In woodland and flower photogeaphy any wind is problematic.  So the wind effectively determines where a day will be spent and for the holiday week it wasn't at altitude or on west/north facing slopes, the sheltered glens and SE facing aspects were visited.

Where the Highlands score so highly as a photography destination is the combination of scenery and lighting courtesy of changeable weather. Weather which provides the atmosphere, air clarity and rain that brings out vivid colour in the landscape and streams cascading down hill and valley sides. Even on a miserable day, there's the tantalising prospect of some dramatic fleeting light.

The Morvern and Loch Sunart oak woods are classed as temperate rainforest, the high rainfall and humidity, create a habitat where moss and lichen communities thrive, producing a woodland with no little visual appeal and are well suited to photography in the rain. Which was just as well given the weather.

Ariundle oakwood

The highlands as a photography destination, often frustrate due to the vagaries of weather, but that's their intrinsic nature and a big part of their enduring appeal.

Ardgour Hills 

Bluebell woodland landscapes - aesthetics and a philosophy.

Bluebells under a woodland canopy of trees in newly emergent leaves, is one of nature's more appealing floral displays and a challenging one for making an image that does justice to the scene. It is said that there are three types of aesthetic interest in a photograph: composition, the knowledge imparted on the subject and the photograph itself. I'm also tempted to add that the aesthetics of lens bokeh and rendition is the only aesthetic interest for some photographers.

 Mature oak underplanted with oak and beech.

Bluebells are slow colonisers and to establish a bluebell carpet requires time, undisturbed soil and a long period of woodland cover to form the requisite habitat for bluebells to spread and flourish.  This slow colonising rate make bluebells an indicator species for ancient woodland, which is defined as a wood with continuous tree cover since 1600 AD.
It's always interesting and informative viewing other photographers' images of bluebell woodland, noting the preference of woodland type, weather, lighting and seeing how the structure of woodland is incorporated in the composition of a landscape view.

Small leaved lime wood, with coppice shoots and suckers

At one extreme of woodland structure is what I'll term a highly structured or 'architectural' bluebell woodland which manifests itself as plantations of forest broadleaved dominants, grown and managed for prime grade timber. With uniformity of age and close spacing of planting encouraging straight growth, creating distinct verticals. Beech tree plantations form a closed canopy and cast a deep shade that starves the woodland below of light and sterilises the underwood and field layer of any flora that isn't shade tolerant, which in a maturing beech plantation is most flora, even beech saplings and epicormic growth are shaded out. The elimination of competition in the field layer, creates the habitat for bluebells to flourish, which they do with spectacular effect on the right soils.

20thC maturing beech plantation

Maturing beech plantations are a very clean woodland with smooth bark and for a wood on ground with low topographic relief, defined horizontal layering and lends itself to strong graphic compositions, even with the absence of sunlight, there's an inherent depth to a view.
Ecological interest is confined to a narrow range of shade tolerant specialists and what the dormant soil seed bank throws up when the wood is harvested or when the canopy opens up.

 Predominantly mature beech, with ash, underwood and natural regeneration in the field layer.

At the other extreme are unstructured woodlands with a mixture of natural tree species, from veteran trees, snags, derelict coppice to saplings and seedlings, a range of canopy light regimes, a diverse underwood including coppice shoots, varied field and ground layer with wind throw. In this type of woodland, there will be areas of the wood barren of bluebells through to dense bluebell carpets.  There's usually some topographic relief to contend with too, especially on the western side of the UK.
Photographers hoping for ordered verticals and horizontals in their compositions will be frustrated by he level of complexity and compositions will prove unrewarding when viewed retrospectively. There's no real compositional template and it's down to the experience gained from past failure to make a rewarding photograph.
Ecologists tend to use this type of woodland as an exemplar of biodiversity and these woods are owned/managed by Wildlife Trusts, Woodland Trust, RSPB etc

Mixed woodland and boulders 

Since this is a blog post on bluebell woodland photography aesthetics and not a discourse on bluebell woodland types, I'll only add there are a myriad types of bluebell woodland between the extremes of structured/architectural and unstructured/ecological. Generalising and if you prefer photographing  structured/architectural bluebell woods you'll end up visiting Forestry Commission plantation woodland and if you prefer the less structured/ecological woodlands you'll probably be in a nature reserve and whilst a delight to wander around in, it can be challenging to photograph.

A problematic area is wind and its effects with longer exposure times in woodlands on blurred foliage and flowers, raising ISO values and larger apertures to eliminate motion blur of foliage is not as effective as one would think or even desire.  My memory of a visit to a bluebell wood even in a gale, is a snapshot of still flora and not one of motion blurred leaves and flowers, although I'm conscious of the reality of wind and disturbed foliage, the effect of blurred foliage in an image I find aesthetically objectionable. Which doesn't mean abandoning a trip to bluebell woodland if wind is forecast, it means an adjustment to camera/lens settings, seeking out sheltered woods or a sheltered aspect of a wood and patiently waiting for an opportunity between wind gusts. It is worth heading out even in less than desirable weather as peak condition for a bluebell woodland lasts for a matter of days. I have enough experience of bluebell woodland photography to realise how dynamic an environment woodlands are, far more so than many other landscapes and the scene may not be there next year or even for the next decade.

A bluebell wood impacted by mechanised harvesting operations for some years to come

Whilst researching the online archive of articles and discussions on photographing bluebell woodland, I've stumbled upon some interesting commentary on photographing bluebell woods, some of it surprisingly honest in describing the challenges, some of it all so predictable. The issues of polarising filters and colour rendition were expected and easily remedied in the field by removing the filter. Getting bluebell colour right doesn't need advanced photoshop skills, only some thought, careful observation in the field and experience.

19thC oak plantation with emerging bracken

The surprising commentary was from the 'online cognoscenti' bemoaning bluebell woodland photographs 'it's all been done before' 'cliche subject' 'no originality' 'same old, same old' ...   Really?  Now, I've never been tempted to ask anyone to qualify their opinion, but would concede that rocking up at the tripod holed ground of Micheldever wood to photograph the beech and bluebells might qualify as a photographic cliche and the use of intentional camera movements certainly qualifies as a tiresome photographic cliche.  However, the highbrow nature of some commentary suggests the large and medium format film landscape aficionados are weighing in. I'm not being snarky, but I've seen enough images by LF/MF film users to know that normally they have no problem photographing cliches, so why the venting of spleens on bluebell woods? I suspect it may be due to film's colour rendition of a bluebell wood and high ISO incapability, oh and I've yet to see a convincing black and white photograph of a bluebell wood. I'm not trying to be too precious about photographing bluebell woodland landscapes, but given the demands on time in visiting and locating bluebell woods, the effort expended, long learning curve and the lottery of weather, it is perhaps no coincidence that it's easier to make condescending remarks than to show any appreciation or aptitude for it.

Assart and back again

An evening walk through a less visited wood in the Wye Valley and towards the furthest extremity of this wood, the forestry track cut through a stone wall. A derelict, moss covered stone wall,  surrounded by high oak and beech woodland. My initial thoughts were a simple event chronology of  building of the stone wall, planting of woodland and construction of a forestry track cutting through wall. As that stone walls are rarely constructed through an existing wood and the area of woodland on one side of the wall was carpeted in bluebells and on the other side of the wall, bluebells were colonising through a relict gateway or where the wall had collapsed, which suggested the area enclosed by the wall was once farmland, before reforestation. The light was fading and with exposure duration in seconds and mindful of the return walk to car, only a few images were made.

Derelict stone wall in woodland

Intrigued by the wall in the wood, I consulted a couple of authoritative texts and maps of the area. The general area has some history dating back to Anglo Saxon times,  a Domesday Book entry, Norman manor and the creation of a sizeable family estate in the 16th/17th C, but concentrating on the events pertinent to the stone wall and wood, it is probably best to start in first decade of the 19th C.  In 1803, Admiral Lord Nelson, following a visit to the area, produced a report on the naval timber in the nearby Forest of Dean.  The report included the following statements "These shameful abuses are probably known to those high in power ..." and  "If the Forest of Dean is to be preserved as a useful Forest for the country, strong measures must be pursued. First, the guardian of the support of our Navy must be an intelligent honest man ...". He also wrote that some oak woodlands and fields outwith the statutory Forest of Dean could be purchased to ensure a short and medium term supply of mature timber and planting of oak saplings raised in nurseries for the long term. Following an act of Parliament, replanting of the Forest of Dean commenced between 1808-1818, the events of which didn't go entirely to plan and coincidentally in 1817 the Highmeadow estate of woodland and farmland adjoining the Dean, was purchased by the Crown Commissioners.

Primary and secondary woodland either side of the stone wall

I made a return visit in better light, to make a photographic record of the derelict stone wall, bluebells colonising the secondary woodland and confirm that the wall is the one shown on the modern OS maps against known boundaries and features.

View along the stone wall

A search online produced an illustration of a village map of 1608, that also details the wall enclosing a field and adjacent woodland, the 6":1 Mile late 19th C OS map also show the stone wall traced out in woodland and the modern OS explorer map shows the stone wall, woodland and forestry track. It seems likely that the derelict stone wall was once an estate and/or field boundary on the Highmeadow estate. So what was once woodland, was then assarted for farmland, then reforested in the 1820's and has remained woodland ever since under the management of the then Commissioners of Woods and now by the Forestry Commission.

Former gateway and now entranceway for colonising bluebells

The derelict boundary wall has clearly been an effective barrier to bluebell colonisation, but where breaks occur in the wall there is still a discernible difference in spread and density of flowers, between secondary woodland and the original wood after nearly two centuries.  Another observation would be that lateral colonisation across a slope seems particularly slow, especially against the prevailing wind. I was surprised at how slow the colonisation of former farmland was, especially as bluebells are considered as one of the more 'vigorous' colonisers amongst ancient woodland indicator flora.

Semi natural ancient woodland chanced upon

I had walked by this wood on a fair few occasions over the years, on the track from the Tidenham Chase car park to the Wye Valley woods, but had never set foot in it. The reason being it appeared unpromising, views from the path indicated it to be a modern conifer plantation and I'd never thought to look at it more closely on the ordnance survey map or on google maps satellite view. Recently I was looking for a plantation on ancient woodland site (PAWS) to make a photographic record of any spring woodland flowers present and remembered this wood. The 1:25,000 Ordnance Survey explorer map was scrutinised and it showed symbols for deciduous, evergreen,  coppiced trees, scrub and bracken. The wood had a mixture of boundaries; linear, an indeterminate boundary and the longest boundary was distinctly irregular and adjoining cultivated fields. The adjoining cultivated fields had fairly straight boundaries of planned enclosures, except where the fields bounded the wood on the north side.

1:10,600 surveyed 1880 printed 1887

 A look at the Ordnance Survey 1:10,600 (1 mile = 6 inch)  county map and the wood boundary was extant in 1880 and deciduous trees, firs and brushwood are mapped.

Revision 1900 Published 1903

A check on newer revisions of the 1880 map showed some additional detail in 1900 with woodland rides mapped.

Google satellite view

A Google satellite view shows predominantly deciduous woodland, so my preconceptions of a conifer plantation were way off the mark. The woods place name of Clayton is either a persons name, or Old English for 'clay' and 'town' or 'place with good clay', I thought the persons name more likely as I know Drybrook sandstone outcrops in the core of the Tidenham Chase syncline and is an area undergoing heathland restoration by the Forestry Commission.

BGS Bedrock geology

The BGS geology map shows the wood is underlain by Carboniferous limestones, mudstones and clays with the overlying Drybrook sandstone outcropping just to the south, so the name Clayton Wood seems to be a based on the geology. The geology indicates that the soils might be base rich, which would be a suitable habitat for wildflowers and clay on a north facing slope, would be a good reason to leave the land wooded. My speculation on the woodland and geology had proven to be wide of the mark, so a visit was made.

Clayton Wood - post harvesting operations 

The ground between the heathland on the Drybrook sandstone and Clayton wood was a distinct band of heavy clay, planted with pine and I was thankful for the spell of dry weather.

Singled coppice and wood anemone carpet

Clayton Wood itself was a revelation, recently harvested  of Western Red Cedar/Hemlock and juvenile beech trees the woodland floor was covered in brash and carpets of spring wildflowers.

Wood spurge and Ransoms

 The canopy and understory of the wood are western red cedar/hemlock, beech, oak, hazel coppice, ash, holly, hawthorn, cherry, birch and I suspect some of the suckering coppice stools are small leaved limes that along with some other trees, need to be in leaf for me to make a positively ID.

Dog's Mercury and Primrose

The wildflowers ticked most of the boxes for ancient woodland indicators with carpets of wood anemones, ransoms, dog's mercury, wood spurge and again some other flowers that will need to be in flower to positively identify. I also forget to check if a wood bank defined the boundary, some yellow flowers weren't examined at closer quarters to see if they were celandines or something else and mosses/lichens/rushes/sedges and grasses were overlooked too. I didn't notice any bluebells or patches of nettles, which might be my oversight and I'll check on a future return visit.

I found this an interesting exercise, with desk study and a field visit to establish a woods potential ancient credential and further visits may reveal some more indicators and insights.