November

I find the month of November a very satisfying time of year to be in the woods. During the November that has just ended I have been trying to think exactly why this is. It has something to do with the sense of withdrawal and dormancy, plants and animals retracting for the winter. The visible process of nutrients returning to the soil and the smell of damp leaves and decaying wood is comforting reassurance of the continuing cycle of life. There is also something very elegant about November. It is when the bare bones of the earth start to be revealed once more. The cloak of green that grew and grew all summer turns into rich shades of gold before finally falling away.

One thing I have been particularly aware of this November is the quality of light. As daylight becomes scarce, sunshine is a precious commodity. Early in the month the vibrant colours of the trees and bracken seemed to reflect so well the light from the low-angled sun. One day at the beginning of November we woke up to a clear sky and a hard frost. Cold but very beautiful. Eventually the rising sun’s light illuminated the tree tops. There was not a breath of wind, but leaves dropped from the branches like light snowfall. A gentle pattering sound could be heard as they landed on the frozen ground. The freeze-thaw had caused them to finally detach from their twigs. The fallen leaves of the birch formed a golden carpet the on ground, looking like a reflection of the canopy above.

On several evenings at dusk, while most of the woodland grew dull, the auburn tops of the birch and the larch trees caught the orange light of the setting sun. They seemed to glow brighter than ever, beacons of colour in an otherwise grey landscape.

The frosts and mists that have been common this November interact with the light in different ways. Frost serves to highlight the details of each tiny element of the woodland: the fragile forms of individual leaves and the finest spider web. The fogs and mists have the opposite effect, blurring visible detail so that forms appear as monochrome layers of silhouetted shapes, showing the woodland in outline.

Through the month the colours gradually dulled and light became more subdued. By the middle of November most leaves were gone and the woodlands started to take on their winter look. The lichened oaks and alders now stand out almost fluorescent green against the mass of purpley-brown birch trees.

Once hidden behind its foliage, the shape and structure of every tree is now prominent. Each species shows its unique pattern of branching. The oak bears gnarly, twisted branches and twigs that stick out in all directions. The ash has straighter twigs arranged symmetrically and all curved upwards. On the silver birch, meanwhile, masses of thin twigs droop elegantly from slender branches (as referenced by its Latin name, Betula pendula). Observing trees in their winter form feels like a novelty in November and it is pleasing to remember what each type of tree looks like without its leaves. Even at night it is possible to identify tree species from the pattern of their branching outlined against the sky.

Night is prolific in November, but towards the middle of the month the darkness was tempered by a bright moon. The moonlight revealed the woodland in high contrast black-and-white, offering another opportunity for a new interpretation of its features. Walking in this nighttime woodland, you are forced to use sight differently and to use other senses more than during daylight. You get an alternative perspective on things and, if lucky encounter some of the woodland’s nocturnal residents. This November I have met moths, bats and a tawny owl out and about in Comar Wood.

Well, November is over and we are rapidly approaching the shortest day of the year. The dramatic transformation of the woodland is now complete and changes over winter will be more subtle – a period of hibernation before days lengthen again and growth is renewed. The annual cycle of the woodland never fails to provide me with constant anticipation, interest and a comforting familiarity as each month brings its own smells, sights and sounds. November is sometimes thought of as a rather dull month, but I find there is plenty to engage the senses.