Selm Muir Wood Circuit

The first thing that hits you is the pine infused air. Both refreshing and energising, it also carries a bite of cold, signalling the onrush of autumn. As if to confirm this, distant calls draw my eyes skyward, and I see my season’s first skein of geese heading south.

My walk today is in Selm Muir Wood, a tract of forest managed by Forestry and Land Scotland lying midway between the Lanark Road and the A71, yet easily overlooked.

I turn off the Lanark Road onto Leyden Road about a mile southwest of Kirknewton airfield (following the sign for Hilly Coo Wigwams). Then, after a further three- quarters of a mile, I pull in at the forestry gate where a wooden sign states: ‘To Little Vantage and Thieves Road’.

I set off down the long, straight forestry track towards the heart of the wood. The twitter of small birds is all around. In an area cleared of trees to my right, a small group of grey wagtails bob through the air between occasional pools, foraging for insects.

Goldfinch in rowan at Selm Muir

To my left, a flock of goldfinches scatter, disturbed from feasting upon thistle seeds. Along the right-hand side of the path runs a long, clipped beech hedge, oddly horticultural for the setting. Glancing southwards, fields slope up to the flanks of the elongated ridge of Corston Hill and cows lie, chewing the cud in leisurely fashion. As I walk, I enjoy the early autumn colours of the hedgerow. Ginger common carder bees visit late thistle blooms of purple, whilst boughs of rowan above hang heavy with berries of deepest crimson.

Soon, I arrive at the main body of the wood and a fork in the gravel road. Bearing right, I follow the road until it comes to an abrupt end. Here, it’s possible to turn left off the gravel onto a narrow track which threads between the plantation conifers and a line of closely spaced beeches. The beeches are planted hedge-fashion, but each is now a small to medium sized tree thrusting slender branches upward towards the light. Their twisting, moss-coated trunks exude the mystique of a Midsummer Night’s Dream forest, and contrast with the bare, red-brown stanchions of pine to my left.

The path bends left and then right again, emerging to run alongside the main forest road. Here, purple heather blooms by the path, mixed with rowan and birch saplings, and with a backdrop of Scots Pine on the far side of the road. I cross another gravel track and continue alongside more beeches, slightly taller and more spaced here. I pass an area of younger conifers to my left and am kept on my toes by vaulting a few fallen trunks and hopping ditches.

I come upon a little glade of young oaks, emerald leaves not yet rust-tinged by autumn, bearing nascent acorns. Shortly after, the path bends left and left again, signifying that I have rounded the western edge of my circuit.

I am now on a narrow track alongside the tumbledown stone wall separating wood

and field, with Corston Hill to my right.

A lonely raven croaks from a nearby pylon. I enter a stance of Scots Pine, weaving my way between the trunks, and soon I reach an area of cleared forest, scattered with the debris of felled trees. I hear a rasping shriek above my head – a jay! I watch as it curves through the air from the top of one pine to the next, its plumage a gorgeous mix of contrast and colour, from the white and black of rump and tail to rosy back and blue wing flashes. As I reach the far side

of the clearing, a buzzard glides across at tree height, heading in the other direction. It is watched by a woodpigeon perched on a bare, isolated birch, pretending not to be there.

The final section of the walk is between pines across sun-dappled forest floor, upon which a variety of fungi are scattered. Upon the path I find delightful, delicate amber fronds of yellow staghorn. In some places, where larger pines have fallen, small dark pools have formed in the pits left by their upended root masses. In one of these, a large black beetle is thrashing around in the process of drowning. I proffer him a branch onto which to crawl, and, after some encouragement, he jumps aboard to be whisked back to terra firma. Without so much as a beetle-y ‘thanks’ he scuttles away, disappearing off into the undergrowth. I rejoin the main track by the clipped beech hedge near where I left it and, from there, it’s a pleasant march back to the car, in the gradually increasing warmth of the morning sun.

Time for me to beetle off now too – until next time…

Walk time approximately 1 hour, over a mixture of gravelled forestry road and narrow

tracks, uneven and muddy in places.

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Published in Konect October 2024

Author: William Weir

All photos by William Weir