23rd October - Memory like an Elephant?

Acorns in Autumn Light

Being a forager, I am often put in mind of those elephants you hear about on natural history programmes. The ones which through a feat of memory and sense of season arrive at every fruit tree within their territory just in time to eat the falling fruit. Of course my sense of timing is less accurate and to arrive at a favourite haunt to find the cep demolished by slugs, the lime blossom over or all the hazelnuts already eaten by squirrels is not uncommon. I try through, and a lot of the leg work is certainly taken out of gathering wild food by being in the right habitat at the right time, a payoff for hundreds of hours of largely fruitless wandering in years gone by. My mental foraging map/weather-adjusted seasonal calendar (I wonder if there is an app for that?) also has the complexity of factoring in pig food and I hope they appreciate the hours spent staring at mast producing trees trying to assess when the suspended forage might drop. I make it sound like a chore but having a reason to look up into the sprawling boughs of an oak, as the sun turned amber this afternoon has left me with a memory which would otherwise have been lost. That idea holds true for so many things which I do.  The acts of shooting or fishing, foraging or hedge laying are done for love and necessity, but also ensure that I am abroad with the opportunity to experience the chance sightings and happenings which no one can predict or plan to see.

After a calm evening which saw pipistrelles hawking in the dwindling light, the wind blew up, sweeping away cloud to reveal a starry night. It was exciting and slightly unnerving to the stand in the garden (essentially a woodland clearing) beneath a clear sky, hearing gusts set about the oaks, aspens and chestnut coppice. The constant roar was still a sound of summer, the rich groan of a million leaves brushing and fretting in the dark. Soon the same wind will raise a clattering furore from the same woods, as naked branches beat upon their neighbours.

My extensive readership will be crushed to hear that I'm going away for a few days, but my digital scribblings will resume on my return. Mr. C (a name which he has rejected, but Mr. good-looking is so long winded) might even put in an appearance, possibly with a new gun!