The New Forest hold a special place in my affections since not only was it a favoured destination in my days as a makee-learnee birder, but also provided the 'meat' for my BA dissertation ("The Creation of the New Forest" - 1974). The former inclines me to envy as I've not been birding in the "Forest" for a good few years. The latter makes me disappointed that 'Birdman' could only manage a reference to "King Mumble the Somethingth" rather than the traditional culprit, William the Conqueror. On the other hand, full marks for making the distinction between 'forest' and 'woodland'; the former being an area covered by forest laws designed to protect game. Actually, the chances are that Edward the Confessor (or one of his Anglo-Saxon forebears) established a royal hunting ground in the area and that the interloper William got the blame.
As for birding, one of the good things about the area is that it is accessible by public transport. I vividly recollect catching the train from Southampton to Lyndhurst Road station and walking through to Beaulieu Road Station (neither very close to the villages they are named for). We saw (and heard) Woodlark en route, but no Dartfords. My excuse for the absence of the latter being that this was the 60s and that the population had crashed (to a low of a dozen or so pairs in 1963). Now with hundreds of pairs in the area, finding Dartfords shouldn't be too great a challenge although mid-summer isn't the best time to look! On my episodic visits to the Forest, since leaving the area in the 70s, my method for finding Dartfords have been simple; get there early on a still sunny spring/early summer day, find a large area of mature gorse, listen for the characteristic call or song (easily learnt from tape/CD/DVD) and wait for one of the little beasties to perch up. With patience they really shouldn't be too hard to see.
Despite everything you might read, Crossbills aren't always a sure-fire thing at Beaulieu Road. I've missed them more often than I've seen them there. Like the Dartfords, the trick is to learn the call - 'chip chip' - and to be persistent. Once located by call they can be difficult to see, but the great advantage of the site is that, as the pines are relatively isolated, the birds don't go too far.
My favourite bit of Forest lore concerns the famous ponies. A good few years ago rose fanciers from nearby conurbations took to nipping out to the Forest and collecting the horse dung that litters the place. The verderers (who have charge of the Forest) took exception to this and took the matter to court. The judge decided that when in the pony the dung belonged to the pony's owner, but when on the forest floor it was the property of the Forest authorities. Hence if you were very quick with your bucket and impinging on the pony's personal space, the rose-manure was yours!
John
