The New Forest
by Mike Read – 13th November 2007
Mike Read is well known
both for his photographs and his sense of humour, so
we were treated to one of his terrible jokes about a chicken and some library
books before he embarked on showing us some of his brilliant photographs.
Mike lives just down the road from the New Forest,
and he has got to know it very well from frequent visits over the years.
At the beginning of the
talk, Mike told us about some of the pressures on the New
Forest which result from the many visitors, and the busy A31 that
cuts through the northern part. In recent years, the impacts have been
eased by restricting off-road access by cars and introducing a blanket speed
limit. But cyclists, dogs and the sheer numbers of people still provide
some disturbance to the local wildlife.
In the main part of the
talk, Mike took us on a journey through a year in the life of the New Forest, through winter to the new life of spring, the
height of summer, finishing with the fruitfulness of autumn. Since it is
on his doorstep, Mike often visits early in the morning to take photographs
before most visitors arrive. On one occasion, he was lurking in the
undergrowth and wanted to stay out of sight while a couple passed by.
They also decided it was a good place to stop to have a drink. They chose
a nice dry bank to sit on, but unfortunately for them (and fortunately for
Mike) it turned out to be an ant’s nest, so they didn’t linger!
The range of photographs
that Mike showed us was stunning, covering the birds, animals, plants and
landscapes of the New Forest. I
particularly remember a photograph of a Hobby feeding her chicks, the product
of many patient days of waiting in a hide up an adjacent tree. There were
other photos of some of the tranquil corners of the forest, away from the areas
frequented by visitors. And of course, there were the New
Forest ponies. In the tea interval Mike had some examples of
his photos and books for sale. I was tempted and bought one of his packs
of Christmas cards, featuring a Barn Owl in winter - to supplement my RSPB
cards, of course.
Richard Swinbank