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Powerstock Common is probably the closest thing to wild woods we have in Dorset. Once a royal hunting ground, then an area of common land, never enclosed (perhaps too boggy to be worth the expense), now a nature reserve of tangled woods, ponds, rough pastures.

Following green paths...

...past a 19th century brick kiln, now flooded.

In May, Powerstock is the realm of the bluebells & the violets.





A passing shower of apple blossom.

I usually have a strong sense of direction when walking in the woods, but the narrow twisty paths of Powerstock turn me around and lose me. I always have to rely on a compass here. And it always surprises me a little that the compass actually works, rather than the needle spinning aimlessly. Powerstock is one of the secret, spooky places of West Dorset. You wander in. You may not always wander out again.



Bark beetles have written cryptic messages on the fallen trees.

There are cattle roaming the common. But they are placid older cattle, too busy chewing the cud in the sunshine to bother a passing walker.


With the aid of my compass, I find my way back to the nature reserve car park. Then it's a long drive along narrow twisty nameless lanes, lined with bluebells and shaded over with trees, before I finally come to a crossroads with a signpost, and can find my way home.


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Date: 2025-05-05 12:17 pm (UTC)That sounds wonderful! Apart from the allergy meds.