All posts by Chris Gibson

The far out west (of East Anglia!) – Ashdon & Bartlow

Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex

The far north-west of Essex has long been a bit of a mystery to me, so it was good last week when the chance arose to explore awhile before giving a talk to the Ashdon Gardening Club. Barely 15km from the hi-tech heart of the country, Cambridge, Ashdon does feel very out of the way. Nestled by the river Granta, and seemingly without any mobile signal, it is enveloped in the chalkscape of the greater Chilterns. The chalk heights reach their Essex peak at Chrishall (147m) west of the M11, but rolling hills clad in chalky boulder clay extend the foothills eastwards.

On the hill high above the town is a fine windmill, reached after a bit of a nervous drive a few hundred metres up a single track road with bends and high hedges. But least there is a carpark at the top!

Ashdon Windmill, recently restored to working order by the local community, was built in 1757 and operated commercially until 1912, after which it went through several cycles of dereliction and repair.

On the windswept peak (at just over 100 metres altitude) is obviously a good place for a windmill, and also to get a feel for the well-wooded, farmed landscape, the fields often featuring Fallow Deer.

Back down in the village, the church was worth a visit, in a fine setting with the historic Vicarage and Guildhall, now well away from the heart of the village, perhaps a shift in response to the Black Death.

Then it was up the road a short way to the village of Bartlow. Now entirely within the county of Cambridgeshire, until a boundary review last century the land to the south of the River Granta was the last outpost of Essex. Indeed, about five kilometres to the east, I noticed that the three counties of Essex, Cambridgeshire and Suffolk converge, and wondered briefly if it would worth hunting the join. Then I looked at the satellite photo, showing it among a slew of arable fields, and had second thoughts. After all, having straddled the Equator and the Greenwich meridian, I realise that artificial lines have no lasting meaning!

Bartlow Church was also worth a visit, although fairly unremarkable inside; it is one of just two Cambridgeshire churches with round towers. And that tower is the oldest part of current church, dating back to perhaps the late 11th century.

In the afternoon heat, the churchyard was buzzing with life. Patches of Red Dead-nettles, Primroses and Sweet Violets were in full bloom, attracting Peacock butterflies, while Brimstones and Dark-edged Beeflies were everywhere, and Nursery-web Spiders were out basking on many a leaf.

The Primrose patches included one plant with slightly darker flowers and flowers raised on a common stalk. That might suggest Oxlip, perhaps the most iconic plant of the borderlands of Cambridgeshire, Suffolk and Essex, but it wasn’t quite right. From closer examination it appeared to be one of the ‘False Oxlip’ Primula hybrids, most likely Primrose x Cowslip.

Then it was south across the Granta into ‘old Essex’, over the old railway line (sadly closed as recently as 1967) until the distinctive looming shapes of the Bartlow Hills hove into view. A series of three large Roman tumuli, these are the visitable part of a group of seven earthworks, of which the remainder have been much reduced in height.

For a long time erroneously associated with King Cnut and the dead from the Battle of Assandun in 1016, subsequent excavation has demonstrated them to be the grave-mounds from a wealthy family of the 1st or 2nd century AD. Apparently all manner of artefacts were recovered, including large wooden chests, decorated vessels in bronze, glass and pottery and an iron folding chair, most of which were lost in a fire at Bartlow Hall.

The tallest mound, at 15 metres in height, is claimed as the largest Roman barrow north of the Alps, and well worth the slog up the steps. And following me up was a very special insect, a male Black Oil-beetle Meloe proscarabaeus. In Essex we know this only from a few sea walls and sand dunes, and on the NBN map it appears this is its only Cambridgeshire site, apart from a couple of spots on the edge of the Fens.

From the top you can peer down into modern Essex, and contemplate the changes over time. For me as a botanist, that includes the losses of our native plants. Bartlow Hills is justly famed as the only Essex locality for the beautiful Pasqueflower, apparently just now coming into flower on time (‘Pasque’ in Old French = ‘Easter’) in its heartlands. Sadly, however no longer on Bartlow Hills: it was last seen there around the start of the 20th century, just at the time the land on which the hills stand was reassigned to Cambridgeshire.

 

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: Spring is unleashed…!

Beth Chatto Gardens, Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

There comes a time every spring when one suddenly realises that whatever the vagaries of the British weather, spring is here to stay. The tipping point is sometimes as early as the start of March, but in other years it can be a good month later. In 2026 it seems to have come right in the middle of those extremes.

While the first two weeks of March saw a few glimmers of warmth, the overall impression was of cool days, sometimes breezy, damp (if not as downright wet as the preceding winter) and the occasional snatch of welcome sun. When Jude and I visited in the first week, it was misty and grey all day, rather chilly, and mist turning to fog in the afternoon. So we weren’t really expecting to see much in the way of insect life, and most of what we did find – masses of Seven-spot Ladybirds – were well hunkered-down or wrapped in a fur coat like this Common Earwig…

Of course Jude with her incredibly acute close vision also found some noteworthy stuff, including two colour-forms of Ten-spot Ladybird. Although this is one of the commoner British species, remarkably it seems to be the first time it has been found in the garden, at least according to our as yet incomplete biolisting. The two-spotted form was sharing a cosy niche with an Acorn Weevil and a spider.

Also new for the records, certainly overlooked in the past, was the moss Bryum capillare, its spore capsules standing bright and proud in the gloom.

And the same comments apply to the first record from the garden of a Yew gall caused by the fly Taxomyia taxi. This may be present wherever there is Yew, in gardens, parks and the wild, but it seems always to be under-recorded: the Essex Field Club map has only two spots on it.

Almost apologetically in the mirk the really special spring flowers like species daffodils and tulips were starting to appear. And Chiffchaffs were singing, probably newly in from their Mediterranean wintering sites, carried here a little prematurely by the Sahara-dust-laden winds at the end of February.

But two weeks later it was a very different picture. A couple of warm sunny days saw spring unleashed into the lives and hearts of a myriad of happy, smiling visitors. The Chiffchaffs, now perhaps half-a-dozen, expressed the joy of the season very effectively. As did two singing Stock Doves, the first time I have noticed territorial behaviour in the garden, and (now I come to think of it) possibly the first Stock Doves I have ever recorded there. Adding to the chorus were Chaffinches, at least three male Goldcrests and a Green Woodpecker in song, along with the mewling calls of displaying Buzzards overhead.

Four species of butterfly were on the wing: Comma, Peacock, Red Admiral and a rapid fly-past couple of male Brimstones. All species that overwinter as adults, it won’t be long before the spring-emergers like Orange Tips are with us!

Bees too, with bumbles (Buff-tailed and Red-tailed queens, the latter for me the first of the year) and lots of Honeybees especially on Skimmia ‘Kew Green’ and Scilla  bifolia.

The Scilla was also the focus for many solitary bees, including Andrena dorsata and A. minutula agg.

Ladybirds were everywhere, as seems to be the norm this year, AND now getting active, strutting their stuff as predators, pollinators and partners; most were Seven-spots with just a few Harlequins.

Several Dark-edged Beeflies were feeding or resting around the flowery borders: the first beeflies of spring are always a thrill!

And shieldbugs were also out in force, mostly Green Shieldbugs greening up nicely out of their brown winter plumage, together with a few Hairy Shieldbugs.

As with the previous visit, there were also new records for the Gardens. A couple of very common species whose names have seemingly evaded being written down anywhere in the past were the Common Pond-skater Gerris lacustris and the ink-cap fungus Coprinellus micaceus, equally common although of course only fleetingly visible when its fruiting bodies emerge.

On Anemone blanda there was the distinctive stripy Orange-legged Furrow-bee Halictus rubicundus, new to the garden and indeed with only a few records, mostly coastal, in the Tendring district.

And an exciting new bug for the garden was the ground- bug Graptopeltus lynceus. This is traditionally associated with Echium species but seems increasingly to be moving to other Boraginaceae, of which we have lots; it was very close to a flowering patch of Trachystemon. It is classed as Rare in Essex, with just eight scattered records, the nearest being one just west of Colchester.

And of course spring flowers of every description, no hint of apology now and a wonderful pick-me-up after a dreary old winter!

Beth Chatto Gardens, THE place to be at this time of year. Where else would you find Lesser Celandines blooming in the lawns rather than being hounded out as ‘weeds’? Do visit, and help Rewild your Minds.

A tale of two churches – Westminster & Kensington

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

A flying visit to London gave us the opportunity to visit somewhere we have been meaning to for some time, inspired by the weekly blog  A London Inheritance. In contrast to Westminster Abbey (£31 for adults to get in!) down the road, Westminster Cathedral is free, although we would have happily paid for the lift up to the viewing platform atop the campanile had it been open. Next time!

Whereas the Abbey is a typical, old, 13th Century Gothic one, the Cathedral is more modern, dating to the very end of the 19th Century. From the outside it is visually impressive with alternating strata of red brick and Portland stone, reminiscent of Italian churches we have seen in Florence and Orvieto, in a neo-Byzantine architectural style.

Inside is an oddly unsettling experience, with richly ornate side-chapels at the lower levels, but higher up what felt like a void of black (or blackened?) bricks. And the ceiling below the three vast brick domes is similarly unlit and featureless. I later read that this is typical of Byzantine building practices where the decoration is applied once the shell is complete, rather than designed into the structure, so its interior could be considered ‘work in progress’. Together it constitutes the 50th largest church in the world, in terms of its interior area.

The decorated areas are many and varied:

But for me, most interesting were the introduced aspects of the natural world, especially the mosaic of St Francis surrounded by an array of very recognisable European birds…

… and the magnificent naturally ornate marble columns and cladding, in all manner of shapes and patterns.

We were heading to the Royal Albert Hall and decided to walk, through impressive streetscapes new to us, although few photos as I was wanting to conserve my phone battery for the trip home.

But then we came across St Columba’s church, the absolute antithesis of the cathedral. Whereas the Catholic cathedral is busy, both with people and visually, the Church of Scotland church was as calm and undemanding as a still, summer lochside (minus the midges!). After the former, rather ordinary looking Victorian church was destroyed in the Blitz, the new church rose distinctively with bell-topped tower from the ashes in plain Portland stone.

Inside was such a feeling of peace and tranquillity we just had to sit down and let it wash over us. Plain stone, the only real colour coming from the stained glass arranged as a saltire.

It all felt strangely familiar, especially when we discovered the soaring heights in the wings of the church.  Only later did we find out why: it was designed by Sir Edward Maufe, whose masterwork of Guildford Cathedral we had some admired only just over a year ago.

The contrast between these churches could not have been greater. Both were remarkable in their own way. Such differences in ways of worshipping the same God, and a rich store of imagery and experience for those of us with no religious persuasion at all!

We have never really visited this part of the London before, apart from the great museums,  but certainly we will be back: the big houses, the mews, monumental buildings like Brompton Oratory, and of course the pubs – our meal in the Queen’s Arms was excellent despite the raucous atmosphere!

The Wild Side of Essex: Spring on the Colne Estuary

Britain's Wildlife, Cockaynes Reserve, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

‘Spring’ perhaps more in theory than practice! It may have been mid-March, but the very cool breeze searing across the estuary and grey skies for much of the day made it feel like a return to winter. And as a reflection of the very wet winter past, another theme of the day was mud, especially on the clays lower down, as opposed to the Thames sands and gravels that cap the Essex Alps. But Naturetrek groups carry on regardless!

Starting around Ferry Marsh, all was quiet apart from the whispering churrs of Long-tailed Tits and angry chatter of a couple of Cetti’s Warblers, as so often only briefly glimpsed.

Down at the river upstream of Wivenhoe, the tide was falling away and the exposed mud supported Redshanks and Oystercatchers, with Black-tailed Godwits and Teals feeding in the shallows, and a Little Egret on the saltmarsh.

Along Wivenhoe waterfront, a chance to explore the changing socioeconomic trends that have shaped the town over the past fifty years ago as well as the eternal struggle against surge tides, the now-familiar rare plants were all present: Jersey Cudweed, Four-leaved Allseed and White Ramping-fumitory. Only the latter had flowers, but what a show!

Below the Barrier and into the wider estuary, more of the same waders, including a large flock of 400 or so Black-tailed Godwits, and the first few Curlews. But no smaller species, nor any Avocets: presumably these were hunkered down out of the biting wind in a more sheltered creek. But there were good numbers of Shelduck wading through the sloppy mud, single Cormorant and Great Crested Grebe fishing in the channel and Buzzards circling over the woods.

Along the seawall, especially on the warmer, south-facing slope, Hairy Bittercress and Red Dead-nettle were flowering, the latter a magnet for the few queen bumblebees foraging, making the most of their fur coats to be active when no other insects were.

As soon as we got into the shelter of Grange Wood, the temperature rocketed, and the first of several Chiffchaffs started to sing, probably ones that arrived along with Sahara dust last week. The Silver Birch trees were covered in Birch Bracket fungi, while on windblown twigs there were both Orange Brain Fungus and Stereum hirsutum.

Cherry-plum flowers were just past their peak, while those of Blackthorn were just starting to burst. A precocious Rhododendron was in full flower and the first Alexanders flowers were erupting, soon to become the most important insect forage before the full flush of spring.

And the shady pools were just crying out for Beavers!

For lunch we were back in the chill wind, but rewarded with flocks of Wigeons and Brent Geese, with a trio of Mute Swans surprisingly grazing on the saltmarsh. A Red Kite, presumably one of the local breeders, drifted low overhead and Skylarks were singing from the fields, bringing the promise of spring even in the teeth of an icy wind.

Heading up the hill to the top of the Essex Alps, moving from clay to gravel, we passed numerous vast pollards and coppice stools, mostly Oak but also Holly, boundary features of the ancient wood and the old trackway of Cutthroat Lane. Celandines were flowering, along with the very first Bluebells, amid the sprouting spring greens of Garlic Mustard and (more menacingly) Hemlock.

A Great Spotted Woodpecker and Jay showed themselves briefly along the lane, above large patches of fruiting, presumably ancient, Butcher’s Broom. And in the open at the end of the lane, acid-green in the verge highlighted a patch of Early Meadow-grass. Although we have known this plant close to the tide for the past five or so years, this is the first time I have found it inland round here.

Heading into Cockaynes Reserve, the volume of bird song increased, with Robins, Great Tits and Chiffchaffs featuring prominently. Sallow and Alder flowers were out, along with luxuriant Gorse, attracting numerous bees and flies.

The lichen heath seems to get more extensive every time I visit, and the Bunny Bee colony was coming to life in the admittedly weak sunshine, while a Little Grebe sang from the gravel pits and Long-tailed Tits seemed to be prospecting for a nest site.

Then through Villa Wood, a magnificent showing of Scarlet Elf-cups, highlighting the feature without which probably the reserve would never have come into being.

Heading back along the crest of the hill, the pastureland was graced not by the usual pair of Egyptian Geese, but three pairs and a singleton. From there the verges of Ballast Quay Lane were in fine flower, including Sweet Violets and the first few Three-cornered Leeks. Crossing Wivenhoe Brook, a peep over the parapet showed the continued presence of Water Crickets, the only local place I know for this bug.

Bringing us at the end of of a great day’s walk to Old George, our ‘celebrity’ old Oak tree. Chance for me to relate the saga of despair and hope, one which should never have happened but for the avarice of the insurance company and the acquiescence of the Town Council in contriving to hide from scrutiny the ‘evidence’ by which it has been condemned. Fortunately now, at great expense to the Protectors (and more still needed!), his future now lies in the reasoned hands of the High Court…

A couple of murky days in East London

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Bus, Travel by Rail

Early March saw us heading to London for a gig in Docklands, but as always we tried to maximise our fun by building a short break around it. So when we arrived at Stratford it was a right turn, out by bus to Hackney and London Fields, inspired and intrigued by a recent London Inheritance blog.

The walk from the bus stop took us past some impressive buildings, including 5 King Edward’s Road, a 1920s clothing factory now converted to residential in a very pleasing style. And just across the road, the first of many welcome places of refreshment, this a coffee stop in the Mare Street Market.

The day (indeed the whole of our trip) was unremittingly dull, but the Flower Sellers sculpture/installation in London Fields certainly cheered things up. Joyful, with allusions to the former use of the area as a ‘staging post’ for livestock heading for their final destination of Smithfield Market, that dates back only to the 1980s, but now feels as timeless as the large Plane trees in the Fields themselves.

The London Planes harboured numerous Rose-ringed Parakeets (of course!), some trunks surrounded by a halo of flowering Sweet Violets, and throngs of happy people revelling in the Spring, even in the grey gloom of the day.

The larger trees showed clearly the unreliability of bark as an identification feature, that on the primary trunk being grey and deeply fissured, here with a spider’s nest, but on the younger stems, the more expected flaking mosaic of colour.

And those trees that had reached the end of their life were being recycled naturally by fungi of several sorts, interspersed with the orange tufts of a terrestrial alga, Trentepohlia.

Approaching lunchtime with darkening skies, a pub was in order. The Pub on the Park was functional, albeit rather soulless while delivering the necessary refreshment. But close by, the Cat & Mutton was altogether more welcoming, a genuinely historic hostelry (established 1729) which made us want to linger, especially as the skies had by now opened! Good surroundings, good beer, and very good food. We even discovered the reason for its apparently odd name: originally the ‘Cattle and Shoulder of Mutton’ it clearly had a function serving the meat market traders.

By the time lunch was over, it was really quite unpleasant weatherwise, so we headed by bus to Docklands, and our hotel, a very pleasant (and extremely reasonably priced) high-rise Travelodge right next to Bow Creek. Up we went to floor 13, and we were thrilled to see the view over Poplar to the City, with the beautiful Brutalist edifice of Balfron Tower, one of the Goldfinger-prints on the London landscape, taking centre stage!

From there it was an easy ride into Canary Wharf by DLR, for our evening’s entertainment on the Theatreship (Trappist Afterland, The Gentle Good and Henry Parker).

Next morning, it was at least dry although no less gloomy than previously. Down at the Bow Creek nature reserve, a Grey Heron and several Shelducks were feeding happily in the shadow of looming hi-rise, as the song of Cetti’s Warblers echoed around the concrete canyons.

Being low tide, muddy margins were exposed and were frequented by Oystercatchers, while Teals dabbled in the shallows.

Heading up the tidal River Lee/Lea, our first destination was Cody Dock, a redevelopment of a disused dock space, with sustainability at its heart. We felt very much at home, especially with the very fine coffee and breakfast inside us, in one of the vital edgelands of the river.

One of the features of the site is the Rolling Bridge, a novel, unique design that will ultimately allow the water access once again to and from the Dock. Cleverly counterweighted, it runs on a wavy track and can easily be operated single-handedly (apparently)!

Approaching the entrance, Elaeagnus x submacrophylla was in full fruit, while some of its leaves were galled and distorted, probably attacked by the Elaeagnus Sucker psyllid Cacopsylla fulguralis, originally from Japan but now spreading widely in the south of England.

The vegetation in the planters harboured several different-looking, but ultimately unidentifiable flies…

… along with Sage Planthoppers, and a couple of interesting  snails, Kentish Snail and Girdled Snail, both native in more southerly parts of Europe and now spreading here, especially in urban habitats.

As we continued upriver, we saw or heard a couple of fly-by Kingfishers, together with more non-native, spreading molluscs: the terrestrial Wrinkled Snail and huge numbers of Asiatic Clams deposited on the path presumably by gulls trying the break open the shells. This species arrived as recently as 1997; it is now well-established in the Thames, the Norfolk Broads and the Great Ouse system, and still spreading.

 

Planted Hazel bushes alongside the path were in flower, but noticeable mainly by the abundance of Big Bud galls, caused by a microscopic mite.

As we approached Stratford, there were some interesting sculptures forming The Line public art trail, including a double-helix of shopping trolleys, and several trees with abundant lichens on their trunks, including Flavoparmelia caperata and (rather green) Sunburst Lichen, together with orange patches of the parasitic lichenicolous fungus Erythricium aurantiacum.

Looking back downstream, the Balfron Tower loomed large in the landscape, while in the other direction appeared the equally remarkable sculptural skeletons of the old gasometers of the Bromley-by-Bow Gas Works:

From this point the river becomes more braided and corralled into locks and mill pools of Three Mills Island, a beautifully preserved series of 18th century tide-mills, with Cormorants roosting atop the turrets.

And across the sewage works, tantalising glimpses of the ornate Byzantine-styled tower of Abbey Mills Pumping Station, a key part of Bazalgette’s mid-19th century grand plan to clean up the River Thames.

And so onto the Greenway, a raised walkway on the embankment formed by the Northern Outfall Sewer. Here there was Green Alkanet in good flower, its blooming brought forward no doubt by the urban heat-island effect, fruiting Old Man’s Beard, the Pumping Station from a different angle (we really must try and visit on one of its open days!), and the remarkable row of listed cottages built for the workforce in 1865.

All that was left was to wander into Stratford, for food and drink in the Abbey Tap, our final pub of the trip, as we waited for our train home!

#WildEssex: A Glorious Spring Walk to Cockaynes Reserve

Britain's Wildlife, Bug & Botany Walks, Cockaynes Reserve, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

We have often led a walk up to the Cockaynes Reserve searching for Spring, but never have we had such wonderful weather for it as yesterday. And it was only 3rd of March! Azure skies, light winds and warm sunshine were just what we needed after the grim, grey gloom of February.

And it seems nature needed it too as it was out in abundance. As we walked up Ballast Quay Lane, starting with the customary chirrups of the gaggle of House Sparrows, the air was alive with Greenfinches singing/wheezing and Great Tits getting frisky, while the verges were blooming with Sweet Violets and Lesser Celandines.

And everywhere a rainbow of greens, from the dusty, dull, dark Ivy green to the vibrant emerald of fresh Hawthorn leaves and moss spore-capsules.

As we crossed the open fields, enjoying some of the best views of this part of the world from the top of the Essex Alps, Skylarks filled the air with exuberance as Rooks probed for grubs, and in the distance a couple of Egyptian Geese grazed. Red Dead-nettle, Common Field Speedwell and Bulbous Buttercup flowers were shining among the twinkling Daisies and Dandelions.

Turning into Villa Wood alongside Sixpenny Brook, we entered a moss-clad world, the haunt of our Scarlet Elf-cups, the reason this reserve exists. Perhaps not so many as last year’s bumper haul, but they were there, mantled in mossy green,  and maybe still more to come.

Spring is a time of rapid change but also delayed gratification: the spearing shoots of Bluebells will be transforming this woodland floor in six weeks or so:

Sibilant twitterings in the Alder tops revealed a party of at least 20 Siskins, and the first of half-a-dozen Chiffchaffs sang, surely new arrivals on the recent deep southerlies laden with Sahara dust.

Hazel flowers, always the pre-Christmas first sign of the Spring to come, going over, and the Big Bud galls starting to form; Alder catkins peaking with Silver Birch still to come;  Sallow pompoms just bursting, attracting numerous bees; and Cherry-plum in full flower with Blackthorn bud-burst perhaps a couple of weeks away: Nature’s Calendar in full flow!

Onto the heath, the glorious Gorse flowers hid the glistening nuggets of Gorse Shield-bugs, so well camouflaged among the emerging buds. Queen bumblebees bumbled through the flowers, and there were Seven-spot Ladybirds everywhere. Much more numerous than I have ever seen before at this time of year, these are presumably the offspring from last July’s mega-influx.

Basking on a fencepost nearby was what may be an early Gorse Mining-bee, along with a pugnacious Zebra Jumping-spider, ready to take us all on! The bee bank was teeming with Bunny Bees, one of the key features of this reserve, and especially pleasing as only a day previously, on my recce in similar sunshine, I had seen just a couple.

Two lots of Buzzards were overhead, mewling in display flight and carrying nesting material, while a female Marsh Harrier quartered the reedy willow scrub.

Several pairs of Long-tailed Tits seemed to be setting up territory and there were fleeting flypasts of both Peacock and Red Admiral, though no sign of yesterday’s Comma, my first butterfly of the year. Nor were there any of the Hairy Shield-bugs on show: such is the excitement and unpredictability of the natural world. But the final reward for we two leaders was back in town, just after the last of our group peeled away, the most vibrant male Brimstone crossing our path …

 

Bring Me Sunshine…! Morecambe & Lancaster

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Bus, Travel by Rail

Some welcome blue sky and sunshine peeping through broken cloud illuminated our two-and-a-half-hour rail trip from Euston to Morecambe, as we sped past numerous familiar sights from Camden Roundhouse and Wembley Stadium, to the Chilterns and Red Kites, canals and flooding, the Peak District and Forest of Bowland.

And so with a change at Lancaster we rolled into Morecambe just after lunchtime. And straight off the train we found ourselves immersed in birdiness, from sculptures to pavement poetry …

… as we walked the short distance to our hotel, the Midland, the whole reason we planned this short break. It all goes back to our visit to Dulwich Picture Gallery last May to see the Tirzah Garwood exhibition. A few days later Jude was reading a book on Seaside Architecture, where she came across this hotel and the fact that shortly after it was built in the 1930s, Tirzah and her husband Eric Ravilious had painted a mural therein. Unfortunately, the mural soon fell off the wall, and indeed the hotel fell into disrepair in the post-war period. Fortunately the building was rescued, revived and reopened in 2008, and a mural inspired by the original recreated for the filming of an episode of Agatha Christie’s Poirot: we just knew we had to visit, and we were not disappointed!

From the outside it is a classic Art Deco building, designed by Oliver Hill, whose work we are familiar with from the seafront at Frinton. And from the outset the artistic touches are apparent, including two seahorse sculptures over the entrance by Eric Gill.

And the delights continue inside, both public spaces and rooms adding to the feeling of luxury.

Art included a frieze by Eric Gill and THAT reimagined mural:

And the view from the room was an ever-changing montage of light and tide over Morecambe Bay, looking over to the hills of the Lake District.

The views from the rear were no less enticing, with the old railway station, now a pub (well, we had to..!) and the distinctive stepped outline of Ingleborough showing how close to my home county we were…

We could easily have spent the whole afternoon sipping wine in the Rotunda, but it was sunny and the prom and stone jetty were just out there. So out we went, for wonderful views of the hotel, and as the tide was in, just a few birds including Great Crested Grebes fishing and Redshanks and Turnstones roosting on the beach.

But the bird and marine life art theme continued all around us, with sculptures …

… to plaques in the pavements, along with natural adornments like Sunburst Lichens:

 

The sun was sinking so it was back to our very comfortable, spacious, stylish room to watch the natural light show. And as daylight slipped away, the art show continued with the shadows and light on our ceiling.

Thence to food. My venison fettuccine was simply lovely! Then breakfast, again overlooking the Bay, this time with a fast-receding tide and grey skies, as flocks of Eiders and Curlews flew along the shore. It may have been a bit more expensive than our usual hotels, but it really was worth it for the experience.

As we left the hotel, yelping overhead alerted us to a skein of Pink-footed Geese heading south, in a formation that was reflected in the flocks on the promenade fence:

Along the prom again, there were yet more bird artefacts, together with once-impressive but fading seaside buildings:

And before we departed we had of course to pay homage to Eric, proudly wearing his binoculars on the edge of one of the most important sites for wetland birds in the country. Sadly, he didn’t manage to bring us any sunshine for the rest of our trip…

It’s getting to that time of life when I am increasingly excited at getting my bus pass (just a month to go!). So taking a bus ride seemed a good way to get into the mood. We headed a little way down to the village of Heysham, to seek out an appealing looking ruin, St Patrick’s Chapel, happily screened from the ferryport and nuclear power stations.

A short walk past walls dripping in spleenworts brought us first to St Peter’s Church, its churchyard filled with flowering crocuses and running down to the cliff slopes.

The church was almost crypt-like in proportions, no doubt keeping a low profile from the teeth of salt-laden winds.

Inside, it felt very serene, and laced with intriguing history, including a Viking hog’s-back and a stone cross from a century earlier, both intricately carved. It really felt like it justified its Grade 1 listing, but given it is believed to be one of the earliest sites of Christian worship in Western Europe, with parts dating back possibly to the 6th century, the fact we were there alone was remarkable. And delightful! There is something so magnetic about carved rock, and we were happily transported back to two previous places of wonderful carvings, the Govan Stones near Glasgow and the church at Llantwit Major.

Then perched on the rocky knoll above the church was St Patrick’s Chapel, now ruined. From the 8th century, it postdates the founding of the church but predates the bulk of the present church building. Despite their exposed location, battered by wind, water and salt, the rocks and walls are still encrusted with lichens and wreathed in ferns.

And around the ruins, there were the rock-hewn coffins, dating from the 11th century, brought to wide notice on the cover of an album by Black Sabbath.

Such a swirl of intertwined history, and it came as no surprise to read when we returned home that the site was actually occupied some 12,000 years ago as the last Ice Age retreated into the depths of memory. Places separated by the centuries but connected through the very rock on which they stand, the recall of the ages. Very special indeed, bearing a windswept serenity, redolent of Lindisfarne or Iona or St Davids without the hordes….

As we headed on to our second location, again by bus, cloud turned to drizzle, and eventually to rain which stayed with us for the whole of our time in Lancaster. Such is the West Coast!  And so after a short walk along the banks of the Lune, we felt fully justified in taking refuge in the Three Mariners for a drink, fortification for the steep slog up the hill to the Priory. But even the rain didn’t send the Sage Leafhoppers scurrying for cover!

While not having the same aura as the morning’s church, the Priory did feature historic artefacts, some fine modern stained glass (with yet more birds) and a warm welcome from the vicar without any expectation of religious observance.

Down the hill, past the Castle and more banks of flowering bulbs, we headed into town, dodging the worst of the rain in a café and charity shops.

 

The monumental stone buildings really didn’t look their best in the gloom, so as soon as we could we headed right through the city to our second hotel, the Toll House Inn.

Right next to the canal, before it got dark, a towpath walk was in order, to our next pub, the delightful Waterwitch.

After a good dinner and comfortable night at the Toll House, our third and final day dawned (just). Grey gloom and heavy rain almost all day kept us from venturing far, so a day of outstanding food and drink was in order, starting with the Toll House breakfast which I can say with certainty provided one of the very best full English breakfasts I have had during our two years of monthly short breaks. The local sausages and black pudding were just wonderful!

A super start to the day, giving us strength to face the rain and the frankly appalling busy roads just outside with no provision for pedestrian crossing. But safely back to the canal, we headed towards the Cathedral, welcome shelter among neo-gothic opulence.

And then next door, another excellent pub, the White Cross for a couple of drinks …

… before returning to the Waterwitch for the most wonderful late lunch, in fact, for me at least, some of the best food I have ever had. I opted for two starters – the creamiest seafood chowder followed by a medley of black puddings. Fantastic food in canalside surroundings, watching the rain, and contemplating the train ride home. Unfortunately, various delays en route meant our return home was an hour later than timetabled, but it did at least mean that our five hour train ride was free!

 

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: February is the LONGEST month!

Beth Chatto Gardens, Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

February continued the pattern of the preceding winter: rain, lots of it, and grey gloom. So while I like to get into the gardens to witness the arrival of spring, in practice that meant only two occasions, early and late in the month. Such was the lack of spring-ushering sunlight that the three week difference saw rather little change in nature.

At the time of my first visit, Winter Aconites, Spring Snowflakes and most Snowdrops were pretty much at their peak, albeit without the sunshine to open the flowers fully. Anyway it was too dank for insects to be flying …

Three weeks later, Snowdrops and Aconites were mostly past their best, but it was time for the lovely, endlessly varied Hellebores to pick up the floral baton:

And Daffodils, Squills and Crocuses were coming up fast in the outside lane, the latter with numerous queen Buff-tailed Bumblebees, bumbling out of torpor for a welcome meal in the weak sun.

More than I’ve ever seen before at this time of year, presumably related to last July’s bumper influx and favourable overwinter conditions, Seven-spot Ladybirds were out, crawling and trawling for aphids.

Harking back to midwinter, every Sarcococca sat in its own pool of olfactory pleasure…

… and trunks and branches showed off their lichens and mosses, so much easier to appreciate in the full light before bud-burst:

Skylarks were singing over the surrounding fields and Dabchicks diving on the Reservoir, while Robins, Blue and Great Tits, and at least five male Chaffinches serenaded the spring.  And as if on cue, the next in the line of flowers were bursting through, a blossoming that will grow inexorably over the next few months:

How quickly spring will arrive depends on the weather over the next few weeks, but come it will. And whatever, the garden is always visit, whether in rain or shine!

BOOK REVIEW Turnstones and Turtle Doves by Jenny Coumbe

Reviews, WildEssex

Turnstones and Turtle Doves: nature-watching in an Essex parish, Jenny Coumbe (New Generation Publishing, 2025) ISBN: 978-1-83563-919-1 £12.99

Everybody needs a sense of place, and every place needs people to have that sense, to love and nurture it, enjoy it and help keep it safe from the ravages of modern life. That is just what Jenny Coumbe has done here for a small part of the Tendring Peninsula in Essex, the area around her home. It is an area I know well, especially from a couple of decades ago and it is a pleasure to find out that much of what I remember still remains.

The book starts with a few pages of Foreword, well-written prose that evokes well the author’s hopes that the readers will take inspiration and look at their local patches in the way she has. And add natural colour to their lives in doing so.

In fact, the Foreword is so evocative that the short-form writing style of the bulk of the book could be seen as disappointing, an opportunity missed. Arranged as a series of short paragraphs grouped by season and spanning six years, the writing is sparse. But as the introduction explains, they originated as extracts from nature diary entries. A more familiar description today may be that they are like a series of self-contained tweets (other social media platforms are available!).

Others may complain that the information therein is not quantitative, and thus has limited ‘scientific’ use. But that is also to miss the point. Consider parallels with the mass observation programme of the 1940s in which ‘ordinary’ people captured the details of their ‘ordinary’ lives as the first citizen social scientists, leaving an unparalleled archive of a time of great post-war upheaval.

Well, nature is at that pivotal moment right now, where what we have all grown up with may not be available to our descendants, our children and grandchildren. And if they don’t know about it will they ever want to recover it? Anything we can do to foster desires to challenge Shifting Baseline Syndrome has to be a good thing.

This lovely little book, with well chosen photos by the author and Nick Levene, fills an essential gap between the hopes for, and the reality of, the natural world. It is a gentle beacon of hope in an uncertain world, as well as an advert for that most maligned of counties, Essex. Nothing links each short paragraph, other than the season and location. There is no attempt to curate the entries into stories:  it just lets the reader create their own mental world. Read it right through in one sitting, or dip into it at will, there is no ‘best way’ of enjoying it.

Turnstones and Turtle Doves is an unashamedly modest book that can hold its head high on the local interest and natural history shelves of any bookshop. It epitomises the glorious unexpected, the wealth of change and events that give meaning to the life of any naturalist. Inspiration indeed!

Paperback available online £12.99, e-book at £4.99. Also available from Wrabness Community Shop and Red Lion Books, Colchester.

 

London Wetland Centre and Richmond: fun at half-term!

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Bus, Travel by Rail

For the first of our February short breaks it was away to London with Eleanor for a couple of days. This month has been dreary and very wet, so it was good to be out in at least dry weather, albeit rather cloudy and cold. The WWT London Wetland Centre at Barnes was our first destination, hoping to show her the waterfowl getting spring-frisky, something we have wanted to do since our last visit there in January 2024.

Sadly, while there was some weak sunlight, it was probably not warm enough for full-on display, although the Goldeneyes and White-headed Ducks were at least trying to perform.

And it seemed to us there were rather fewer ducks and geese on show, perhaps explained by the bird flu precautions at all of the entrances. Still, there were still plenty of ornamentals to see…

… along with a good scattering of wild birds.

And the Asian Short-clawed Otters were as reliable as ever at feeding time, along with Bob, the opportunistic Grey Heron:

Aside from birds there were Snowdrops and Winter Aconites in fading flower, Daffodils at their best, and Cherry-plum, Cornelian-cherry, Alder catkins and sprouting Butterburs in a sure sign that winter is coming to an end. At last!

From there it was to Richmond by bus, and thence to our hotel, the Rose of York. With a lovely situation just outside Richmond Park and overlooking the Thames, we were pleased to find this as a reasonably priced option and comfortable for future visits to this area. And the roaring fire in the bar was most welcome as daylight faded!

Next morning, the forecast rain hadn’t appeared so we walked to the riverbank across the somewhat splodgy Petersham Meadows…water meadows as they should be! One feature of the meadows was the number of freshwater mussel shells, presumably dropped on land by birds. They seem to be Swollen River Mussels, known from the Thames upstream of Putney, and indicative of the now good water quality of that stretch of the river.

Breakfast in the lovely Hollyhock Vegetarian Fairtrade Café in the Terrace Gardens, with an accompaniment of a singing Blackcap (among the numerous Rose-ringed Parakeets!)…

… and then it was along the riverside path up to the historic Richmond Bridge, an 18th century Portland stone bridge, and the oldest remaining Thames crossing in London.

   

Amid the shopportunities in the town, St Mary Magdalene Church provided a peaceful refuge from the bustle and traffic of the streets…

… and a couple of significant Art Deco buildings – the Odeon Cinema and the Rail Station – pointed towards the fact that we should think about returning before long.

On these blogs of trips with Eleanor we traditionally include some of her photos. This time they were so good that they take their rightful place in the above: daffodils, snowdrops and roaring fire. But we also wanted to show that our time away is also filled with the sort of things an eight-year-old loves to do!

Beth Chatto Outreach Sites: insects of the Meanwhile Garden & Chattowood

Beth Chatto Gardens, Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

Working with the Beth Chatto team gives me all sorts of opportunities to explore the wildlife of gardens, not only the actual Beth Chatto Gardens, but also other gardens in which we have an interest. Below are two blogs I wrote for the Beth Chatto website in January 2026 relating to survey work I have undertaken at Colchester’s Meanwhile Garden and Chattowood, respectively.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

Original post: Wildlife at the heart of the City: Colchester’s Meanwhile Garden

POSTED 29th January 2026Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

The county of Essex, much maligned, has a rich diversity of wildlife and wild places, with its coastlines and ancient woodlands widely recognised as of the greatest priority and value. But a close third to these are its brownfield sites, a legacy of the proximity to London and a gentle topography, ripe for development.

‘Brownfield’ or ‘previously developed’, call them what you will except ‘wasteland’. These places are anything but wasteland, full of wildlife, and bringing the benefits and joys of green into the lives of anyone who lives nearby, especially important to those of limited mobility.

Brownfield sites come and go with the ebb and flow of development, abandonment and redevelopment. Each is unique as a response to its history and locality. Each contains a unique mix of plants species, a multicultural mix of plants from around the world, that generally arrive under their own steam (eg members of the daisy family and willowherbs with long-distance wind-dispersal) or emerge spontaneously from a long-buried seed bank.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

The latest addition to the ranks of Essex brownfields is the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden in Colchester. For many years a bus station, when demolished it became an area of urban rewilding. But then a partnership between Colchester City Council and Beth Chatto Gardens saw the arrival of the gardening influence, to enrich it botanically for human and insect visitors alike, and to hold back the march of monoculture (especially buddleja and ailanthus) which would overwhelm its open sunny biodiversity in a matter of years if left unchecked.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden
Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

To some eyes it may not look much like a garden: bare ground, rubble, twisted and rusting metal, a mix of planted specimens and things that have just moved themselves in. But that’s Nature for you, and why should the ‘trimmed and tidied, primped and preened’ look be seen as desirable compared with this unplanned urban jungle full of life?

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

The summer of 2025 represented the first full summer of the Meanwhile Garden since its creation in 2024. We followed its colonisation by insect and invertebrate life with monthly visits from April to September in fine weather. Each visit was only an hour long so this must be regarded as only scratching the surface of its biodiversity, a series of spot-surveys that nevertheless revealed lots of interest.

Any new habitat has to be colonised, and unless it is right next door to an existing habitat, insects are more likely to find it if they are powerful fliers. Many butterflies and moths are therefore good colonisers, and included Painted Lady among the array of summer butterflies, attracted especially to Buddleja davidii, often known as Butterfly-bush.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

Moth colonists included three species with very distinctive caterpillars. The black-and-yellow-spotted Mullein Moth is common everywhere, while the Toadflax Brocade, more stripy but a similar colour pattern, is a relatively recent recolonist of the UK, and a specialist of brownfield sites and gardens in the south-east. Similarly the green Small Ranunculus, wonderfully camouflaged among the dead flowers of its foodplant prickly lettuce: extinct in the middle of the 20th century but now on brownfield sites across southern Britain.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

Given the lack of water in the Meanwhile Garden, all damselflies must have come some distance from their breeding ponds and rivers. We found two species, the Common Blue Damselfly (below) and Azure Damselfly.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

But not everything flies so well. Take spiders: they have no wings. But there were plenty around the garden in the first summer, presumably having arrived on the wind as spiderlings, ballooning on silken strands. Three of the species we found were the Zebra Jumping-spider, Cucumber Spider and Gorse Orbweaver, the latter more typically associated with heathlands.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

Bagworms are moths that spend most of their lives in a silk bag adorned with bits of their environment. Indeed females spend all their life in the bag. So they don’t fly. Grasshoppers can fly but not far, so to find three species suggests they have come from a nearby grassland. And Firebugs, another new arrival in the UK, are generally wingless. So how did these get to this brand-new site? Of course, there are lots of people passing by and through the garden, so it may be that the visitors inadvertently bring hitchhikers on their footwear or clothing.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

Visiting the flowers throughout the summer were many bees and wasps, attracted especially to the plants introduced by the Beth Chatto team. The selection below includes rare species, some brownfield specialists, and all are pollinators: particular note should be made of the Spined Mason Bee, Little Blue Carpenter Bee, and Pantaloon Bee, all of which are very scarce in the county, found mainly in the Thames-side brownfields. Bee Wolf was similarly rare until its recent explosive spread northwards, fuelled by climate change. All could well be breeding around the site, but one we know certainly is, the also-scarce Four-banded Flower-bee, taking advantage of the bee-hotel.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

I could go on through all other taxonomic groups – flies, beetles, bugs and the rest – and pick out special features of the garden in the same detail as the above. But suffice to say that in its first summer, Colchester’s Meanwhile Garden was packed with biodiversity, species both common and rare, many specialists of brownfield habitats and many that have benefited from climate change and are spreading northwards using these stepping stones in the landscape. The insects are using all members of the brownfield plant community, the showy garden plants especially for nectar and pollen and the spontaneous flora as larval food plants.

Our final sighting to mention is one of the most surprising to us. July 2025 will be long remembered for the almost unprecedented influx of ladybirds and hoverflies to coastal Essex, probably from the continent. Sadly, the influx which lasted about a week didn’t coincide with one of our surveys. But two weeks later we could still see its remnants, with Seven-spot and Harlequin Ladybirds in abundance (although the latter seemed not to feature among the hordes of incomers).

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

But what attracted our attention was the number of a much smaller beastie, Adonis’ Ladybird. This is another scarce species in Essex, and one that seems to be concentrated close to the Thames, on brownfield sites and arable margins. Prior to this visit we had seen only a bare handful ever in Essex, and the first record from Beth Chatto Gardens was during the influx two weeks earlier. But in the Meanwhile Garden we found dozens, in the July and two subsequent surveys. Most were found on Fennel and Teasel, conveniently at eye-level, but they were everywhere. Will this be carried over to the second full summer? We hope to find out, continuing these surveys for the whole of the coming summer. And we do expect to see changes, some species lost, others appearing: the dynamic lifeblood at the heart of brownfield biodiversity.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

The Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden is a brownfield site like no other, at the interface between natural urban habitat development and gardening. We have no idea how long it will last: the idea of a Meanwhile Garden is that it represents a productive use of an area of land that may ultimately be destined for development. If it ends up being lost, that would be a sad loss for the city centre, but we can at least be happy that the site has pulled its weight for the natural world in the interregnum, and formed an inviting, attractive talking point about the way we want our urban surroundings to look.

Chris & Jude Gibson (with thanks to other occasional surveyors – David Gates, Eleanor Mucklow and Angie Reid)

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

Original post: Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

POSTED 12th January 2026Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

Some of our readers may have seen the Beth Chatto Gardens outreach site Chattowood recently on BBC Gardeners’ World (catch up here). When, some five years ago, a neighbouring developer wanted to use the name ‘Chattowood’ for a new housing estate, Julia (Beth’s granddaughter) agreed on condition that they worked with us on the landscaping for the estate.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Chattowood sits atop the same ridge of low hills as our garden, so we had a useful model to work towards. In our garden, Beth and Andrew came up with the concept of ‘Right Plant, Right Place’, using plants suited to the soil and climate conditions to minimise the need for further intervention, especially here in the arid south-east the need to avoid having to waste water on droughty soils.

Unfortunately, although lying on the same underlying geology, London Clay with a capping of Thames gravels, the recent agricultural history of the Chattowood site meant it was covered in a veneer of excessively fertile topsoil, really out of character if what you are seeking to something akin to Beth’s revolutionary Gravel Garden.

So the first thing was to lose the topsoil, stripping off some 30cm, and replace the same depth with locally quarried sharp sand and gravel, effectively making the place ‘right’ so that the ‘right plants’ could be brought in, based upon a palette of those in our Gravel Garden. One key requirement was drought-tolerance, another was attractiveness (to us – these are in effect front gardens) and the final one, benefits to wildlife, especially attractiveness to pollinators and other insects.

All that was needed then was for the garden management to be taken out of the hands and vagaries of individual householders, and Chattowood was born. As the Gardeners’ World piece showed, this is turning out to be broadly popular among the owners, some having even taken to try and replicate this in the back gardens they still control! The gardens look good with flowers throughout the year (see plant list), without any need for watering, even in drought conditions, and so resting lightly on the world in respect of its ecological footprint.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

At the outset we realised this could be an important template for future development, at least in similar climate zones, so we set about trying to evaluate the importance of these gardens for wildlife. It just happens that immediately adjacent is a ‘traditional’ estate, all mown grass and lollipop trees, an ideal comparison against which to judge the success (or otherwise) of the Chattowood approach.

Since the first planting I have been monitoring the use of the Chattowood gardens by insects in side-by-side comparison with the next door estate. I spend the same time in each estate, logging everything larger than a ladybird, and identifying it where possible without interrupting the flow of the survey, trying to do each estate in 20 minutes to reduce the degree of double-counting of often very mobile insects.

This is not so much a biodiversity survey (which would have taken much more time to ensure correct identifications) but a bioabundance survey. While everyone is, or should be, concerned about biodiversity loss (ie extinctions), the lower abundance of life we are seeing is just as concerning. Remember that your average Blue Tit won’t mind if it eats one or ten species of aphid, so long as it gets enough to eat! Arguably, it is bioabundance, not biodiversity, that underpins all food chains, including those that support our own species.

A high level overview of the surveys shows most importantly a constant, significant imbalance between the Chatto-style gardens and the adjacent traditional front gardens. It would appear that there are typically ten times as many macroinvertebrates (mostly pollinators) on our side of the divide. I think it may be best not to pay too much heed to the data from 2022 which indicated an even greater imbalance as surveys were undertaken that year only after midsummer.

year surveys total number of larger insects in Chattowood total number on the other side, the traditional estate ratio Chattowood: traditional
2022 6 (19 Aug-22 Sept) 120 6 20:1
2023 6 (17 Apr – 4 Sept) 233 28 8.3:1
2024 7 (7 Apr – 17 Sept) 240 25 9.6:1
2025 6 (24 Apr – 19 Sept) 426 39 10.9:1

The message is clear: plant the right plant in the right place and it will reward not just us but also the natural world. And what are the right plants in this context? Clearly this will vary across the country, but here in Essex, salvia, oenothera, verbena, lavandula, buddleja and santolina seem favoured and these should be suitable in most areas provided that free draining ground has been created to avoid the roots becoming waterlogged.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

The broad data also show clearly how much better 2025 was across the board than either of the two previous years. On the Chatto side, there were some 75% more, while on the other side of the great divide there were around 50% more, although it must be recognised that sampling effort was not exactly consistent between years. This pattern was widely repeated everywhere, so we cannot claim it as one of the successes of Chattowood!

The vast majority of the larger insects attracted to Chattowood were pollinators, species that habitually trawl around the landscape to find flowers with appropriate nectar and/or pollen resources. Just over a half of the thousand or so counted in my surveys were bumblebees, of at least five species. Another 15% were honeybees, with 5% solitary bees.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Flies made up about one-tenth of all observations, half of which were hoverflies with the remainder from a range of families.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Of course many of the most showy insects are butterflies and moths, whose numbers together made up just 5% of all observations. A total of nine species of butterfly were observed, together with two noticeable day flying moths, hummingbird hawk-moth and mint moth.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

With the passage of time it has been noticeable that the number of ground nesting insects has increased in the older Chattowood plantings: I suspect that as a crust has developed on the surface of the sand nest holes don’t collapse. Three species at least colonized from 2024 onwards: bee-wolf, ivy bee and sand wasp. The first two are not too surprising given that they have undergone significant spread from southern regions in recent decades due to climate change, but the sand wasp is different. It has always been found in appropriately sandy areas, for example along the Suffolk coast and around Tiptree Heath, but is not known in the Beth Chatto Gardens nor anywhere nearer than maybe five kilometres’ radius from Elmstead Market. It just goes to show that these habitat-specific creatures are moving around our landscape, often much more than we imagine, and that if we provide the right habitat, so they will find it.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Our garden staff also reported finding earthworm casts on the pure sand in autumn 2025, and fungi growing out of it. Both are significant, indicating that organic matter is collecting in the upper layers, perhaps related to the crust that allows bees and wasps to nest. The bare sand is developing an ecology: what lies beneath the surface is adding complexity and life. The gardens are still changing, and changing for the better for wildlife, and as long as there is something to learn I shall be out there counting!

Chattowood is a tribute to Julia’s vision and persuasiveness, the hard work of the Beth Chatto and Lanswood teams and the forbearance of the householders, and provides a vision of a sustainable future for gardens and housing developments, especially living in the global greenhouse. What an antidote to the sterile, ecopathic trend for ‘plastic grass’ and the like!

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Dr Chris Gibson, Beth Chatto Gardens’ Wildlife Advocate

 

Spring on the starting blocks in Cambridge Botanic Garden

Britain's Wildlife

At the end of January, I was invited to give a talk to a garden club in Cambridge, and as the weather looked to be set fair (ie not raining or freezing as much of the previous month had been) I took the opportunity to spend a few hours in one of my favourite gardens, Cambridge Botanic Garden.

And remarkably just as I arrived the sun came out for what felt like the first time in weeks, and stayed out, bathing the garden in its weakly warming embrace for the next three hours: sunshine to light up a garden coming to life after its winter slumber. Snowdrops were everywhere in a myriad of forms:

Scented shrubs like Daphne, Chimonanthus and especially Sarcococca created pools of perfumed air, enough to stop me in my tracks to luxuriate in the extravagant scent:

Other flowers were also welcome to the party, with both wind- and insect-pollinated ones featuring over most of the garden, although given the cool air temperatures, no more than 4ºC even in the sun, there were few insects to take advantage of those trying to draw them in. In fact, the only ones were queen Buff-tailed Bumblebees, wrapped in fur coats and seemingly irresistibly drawn to Salix aegyptiaca, as they will be to native sallows when they burst.

But who needs flowers when there are those other winter treats: bark and branches…

… foliage, fruits and fungi!

And when the cloud swept in just after lunch, temperatures plummeting in a dramatic return to the icy grasp of winter, there was the delightful prospect of the glasshouses to round off a lovely day. A trip round the world in an hour!