Blog Archives: Britain’s Wildlife

#WildEssex – Wivenhoe’s Barrier Marsh and its anthills

We have visited Barrier Marsh many times on our walks, and always marvelled at the number of ant-hills covering it in low, grassy hummocks. Indeed we have blogged about the ant-hills before, most notably here, right at the start of the pandemic.

Each hill is different, a microhabitat of heathland amidst the marshy matrix, and they also change markedly as Spring develops. This time last week, the hills were just starting to redden under the influence of Sheep’s Sorrel; today, its red glow was spreading widely…

Many of the hills were picked out in white with the last flowers of Common Whitlow-grass, really a March speciality though somewhat delayed by our tardy spring, and by the newly emerged Sticky Mouse-ears, and on just one hill we found, Small Mouse-ear.

Blue was added to the palette by copious amounts of Wall Speedwell and a little Thyme-leaved Speedwell…

…while Early Forget-me-not, in many years a real feature of the dry ant-hills was restricted to patches on the sea wall, perhaps a reflection of our wet Spring. But is was a delight to see its close relative Changing Forget-me-not on again just a few hills, a species we have not noticed previously here although it is abundant on the sandy peaks around Cockaynes reserve.

Much less obvious, but only on one hill each so far as we could find was Mousetail (the same hill on which we found it a couple of years ago), also known in one place from cattle-poached ditch-sides on the marsh itself…

…. and so insignificant we couldn’t re-find it today, one small plant of Blinks. Again, this was a new record from the marsh as far as we are concerned, although common on the open sand heaths of Cockaynes.

All of these were of course set amidst the wider damp grassland, with Daisy and Bulbous Buttercup, Meadow Foxtail grass just coming into flower, and whole swathes of the nationally-scarce Divided Sedge.

Away from the marsh, on the sea wall and the Wivenhoe Waterfront a whole new set of plants are now belatedly coming in to flower. Several are ‘little pink jobs’ , perhaps confusing initially, but each with distinct foliage or floral features: Common Stork’s-bill, and  Dove’s-foot, Cut-leaved, Round-leaved and Shining Crane’s-bills.

White Ramping Fumitory and Alexanders are starting to fade, whilst Spotted Medick and Cornsalad are just emerging, with English Scurvygrass out on the saltmarsh, the start of flowering in that habitat, something that will support a changing floral mix right through until autumn.

Our walks were accompanied by the sound of singing Cuckoos, Cetti’s Warblers and Whitethroats, but sadly insects were few and far-between. However, the first Small Copper and Orange Tip of our spring signalled that season is unfolding, and on the sea wall Sea Beet, our favourite Neon-striped Tortoise-beetles have emerged a good couple of weeks earlier than in previous years.

Otherwise, a small but motley selection of invertebrates kept us searching and interested…

…. perhaps the highlight being a zombie ladybird, hiding and indeed protecting its nemesis, the parasitic wasp Dinocampus, that has been eating out its body contents but is now pupating under the paralysed body.

#WildEssex: Dawn Chorus along the Wivenhoe Trail

Our annual Dawn Chorus walk today, and the weather could hardly have been better. Well, it could have been a touch warmer, but the clear sky and windless conditions made for easy listening.

As we stepped out of the flat, first birds in the near-pitch-black were Oystercatchers peeping as they flew downriver, followed shortly by a hooting Tawny Owl and a couple of Nightingales from across the river Colne in Fingringhoe.

Our small group assembled under the lights of the station, where Robins had probably been singing all night, but at 0430 their voices were swelling and mixing with the mellifluity of the Blackbirds, perhaps four of each audible close to the car park.

Progressing along the trail towards Colchester, a Cuckoo (actually our first of the year) joined the choir from Ferry Marsh, the first of at least three male Cuckoos in the two-hour walk.

By now Wivenhoe Wood was coming alive with Wrens, Great and Blue Tits and, significantly, three or more Song Thrushes taking centre-stage with the background ululation of Woodpigeons. Five years ago, you would have been hard-pressed to hear one Song Thrush – just goes to show how nature can recover if the human pressures (slug pellets in this case) are removed. These rays of hope are essential at a time when it would be all to easy to sink in the mire of ecoanxiety… Then it was time for the summer visitors to get out of bed, with Chiffchaffs and eventually Blackcaps entering the arena.

Light levels increased, and the mist rolled in, an inversion layer so solid  you could almost touch it. A Greenshank called along muddy margins, and as we approached the turning point of the walk, Skylarks from both sides of the river sprinkled the air with their stardust. Sedge Warblers too, if a little less euphoniously, along with Common and Lesser Whitethroats for comparison, and we knew we could do no better when a Nightingale in full Robin-like pose at the top of a tree serenaded us in an apparent duet with Cetti’s Warbler.

The sun rose. The songs continued, but it was time to head back. From Ferry Marsh sea wall, Rowhedge sparkled as if washed clean by the mist,  Reed and Sedge Warblers sang side-by-side for comparison, and at least five more Cetti’s Warblers angrily complaining about the state of the world.

And so the walk drew to a close, a lovely bird-filled couple of hours. But not just birds: Muntjac barking and Foxes scenting the air, the saltmarshes starting to bloom with English Scurvy-grass, trees gleaming orange coated in Trentepohlia, and spiders’ webs glistening with their captured droplets of mist…

Finally, best bird for me, and one of the first we heard: twenty past four, still dark, and the air shrilled to the sound of Swifts moving north low over the town. Rarely have I heard them screaming in the dark before. First Swifts of the year always thrill as the start of Summer, and to hear them arriving under cover of the night, pure magic!

Great Oakley Churchyard – for all creatures (and plants) great and small…

While in the area, and as the sun had (briefly) come out, we took the opportunity today to stop off at Great Oakley Church, where neither of us had been for maybe 20 years.

And what a delight! ‘Untidy’ corners, ‘unkempt’ edges, ‘dead’ wood: the stuff of nightmares for those of a certain mentality, but perfect for those who prefer to commemorate their loved ones with an abundance of life.

Long grass, flowers, attendant insects – all the necessary elements for God’s Acre to provide refuge for the things with which we share the planet.

And our few minutes in Paradise just got better when we spied the grounds manager with his mower… ‘Don’t worry, just doing the paths. Won’t be cutting the grass until the wild flowers are over‘! Manna to our ears, especially when he followed up by telling us of the work going on inside the church, replacing heaters and lights ‘as part of our mission to become carbon-neutral‘!!

Having met with entrenched attitudes, antipathy towards nature and frankly unChristian attitudes so many times in the past, it was the perfect antidote to our long, dreary Spring.

#WildEssexWalks – Wivenhoe Wood: Bluebells and much more…

Two walks, same place, two days, very different weather conditions resulted in a diverse range of wildlife discovered on our WildEssex walks this month, and this little write-up contains some of  the ‘best bits’ of both.

Wivenhoe Wood is always a joy to spend time in – and Bluebell time is especially wonderful. That amazing blue, with an occasional heady whiff of intoxicating scent – a feast for the senses! And accompanied by a banquet for the ears with birdsong from a myriad of our feathered friends  – on the sunnier day these included Firecrest and Treecreeper, whilst on the following duller, rainy day a Song Thrush sang its heart out to us. On both days the woodland chorus of Blackbirds, Chiffchaffs, Great Tits, Robins, Wrens and Blue Tits followed us on our wanderings.

The weather conditions meant virtually no sightings of insects, apart from the occasional queen bumblebee, but as the weather warms we hope on future outings to focus more on these incredibly interesting and important creatures. Although whatever the weather, there are always the signs of insects to find in the form of leaf-mines, here the mines of the Holly Leaf-miner fly and the Bramble Leaf-miner moth.

So plants were the main focus, and Chris excitedly discovered two plants which he had not previously found in our woodland – Wild Redcurrant and Heath Woodrush. As expected we saw lots of our old favourites, including  Greater Stitchwort, Dog Violet,  Lords & Ladies, Ground Ivy and Butcher’s-broom.

In places the white swathes of Wood Anemones rivalled the Bluebell show, and one particular patch had especially beautiful pink-tinged undersides to its flowers.

In grassy clearings and the open meadows of Lower Lodge, pink flowers were especially noticeable; Red Dead-nettle, Dove’s-foot Crane’s-bill, Common Stork’s-bill, with Cuckooflower in the damper spots, all  crucial sources of nectar and pollen for early insects.

At this time the trees are springing into life. Sycamore and Oak buds were bursting, while the showy flowers of Wild Cherry were at their peak….

… while other trees with more subtle flowers, each a vision of understated beauty, included Ash, Field Maple and Norway Maple.

Otherwise, an occasional Grey Squirrel could be seen scurrying through the branches, and on the second day we were treated to a pair of Muntjac deer trotting along only a few metres away, the female flirting shamelessly with the clearly very interested male. And on just a few tree trunks the orange terrestrial alga Trentepohlia provided a remarkable splash of colour.

Finishing as we began, just a mention about Bluebells. A real threat to our native species is its hybridization with the Spanish Bluebell, with both the Spanish (left) and hybrid (right) we found in a couple of places. Does this matter?  Well we think so: here is a link from the Wildlife Trusts which explains all …Spanish or native bluebell | The Wildlife Trusts.

Cockaynes Reserve : Spring nudges in…

The birdsong! My first Nightingales, Whitethroats and Reed Warblers competing for earspace with Blackcaps, Chiffchaffs and Cetti’s Warblers provided a lovely, constant backdrop to a sunny morning round Cockaynes Reserve.

But the wind still chilled, a north-easterly flow keeping temperatures down and holding back the Spring yet further in what is already a tardy season. Nevertheless, the trees and shrubs are bursting into flower and leaf:

… but my favourite Crab Apple, ever the indicator, still in tight bud. Compare that with the same tree, the same date, a year ago…

Out in the open and round the pits, there was insect activity in the more sheltered spots (thank goodness for Gorse!), with splashes of coral pink Common Stork’s-bill marking the numerous Rabbit latrines.

… while deep in Villa Wood, flowers of white, yellow and green created a muted palette, pinpricked with the last Scarlet Elf-cups, and awaiting the budburst of  Bluebells. It may be slow but the gears of the season are slowly turning!

Springmead Garden, Brightlingsea

Today, we were invited along to Springmead Garden in Brightlingsea to talk about Wildlife Gardening with Julie Ford, the Head Gardener and a group of local people. It was my second, and Jude’s first, visit to this delightful secret garden in the heart of Brightlingsea.

As soon as we entered the garden, leaving the noise of the busy road behind, the importance of this green space became apparent with Chiffchaff, Dunnock, Wren, Blue Tits and Robins in song, along with Blackbird and Song Thrush singing from the nearby trees, a Greenfinch wheezing and House Sparrows chirruping merrily. Embraced in the songs of the wild, we could ignore the threatening rain … and then the sun came out! Sheer bliss!!

The garden straddles the geological interface between London Clay and Thames sands and gravels, the point at which groundwater starts to move sideways not downwards, and emerges as a spring. The clue is in the name! Very close to the site of a villa, the Roman occupants clearly knew a thing or two and settled with an assured supply of fresh water in their front garden.

Subsequently forming the garden of one Captain Wenlock, he gifted this gem to the people of Brightlingsea. And after a period of neglect, since 2001 the Springmead Trust has lovingly restored it into its current shape.

If we had been asked there to give  masterclass in wildlife gardening, well our services were really not needed. Julie and her volunteers have done pretty much everything we could have recommended. No pesticides (poisons); plants left untrimmed overwinter in order to shelter beneficial insects, like ladybirds (greenfly-munchers); plants that some consider weeds like Red Dead-nettle unweeded, encouraged even, for what they provide to nature (today, along with Nepeta, feeding hordes of Hairy-footed Flower-bees). Even the lawn, in too many places a pampered, poisoned green carpet, here it is springy and tussocky – and with luck it will be allowed to provide for our Spring insects in No Mow May.

As Beth Chatto taught us gardeners decades ago, the secret of gardening success in a sustainable manner is ‘Right Plant, Right Place’: planting according to conditions produces happy plants that survive and thrive without copious, costly, ecologically destructive inputs of pesticide, fertilizer, peat and water.

Taking that to the next level, the secret of wildlife gardening is to ensure that Right Plant, Right Place extends to the ‘right plant’ being right for insects (especially providing pollen and nectar) which then go on underpin the food chains which result in the chorus of birdsong that welcomed us in.

But this is still a garden. It is obviously cared for, with no sign of the 20th century neglect. It is not just trying to create a pastiche of our countryside with plantings of native species. Natives and non-natives are mixed in all their multicultural glory, and almost all are of wildlife value – no blowsy, multi-petalled forms which promise everything to our native insects but deliver nothing.

The right plants are in the right places. By the spring, boggy conditions are home to Gunnera, irises, sedges and Shuttlecock Ferns…

…whereas on the higher, sandier ground it is Mediterranean herbs like Rosemary and Lavender, acid-green splashes of Euphorbia wulfenii and many, many more. All of which point the way to the future of gardening, the necessity for waterwise planting in the face of rampant climate collapse.

As naturalists, we were so pleased to see and hear the range of wildlife in the garden. And not just the commonplace –  potentially some rare and interesting things as well.  As is her wont, and near-magical skill, Jude spotted a practically invisible Early Grey moth, which as I focussed was photobombed by a bug. Subject to confirmation, this could be a critter called Rhyparochromus vulgaris, a rare recent arrival in Essex. [Confirmation of this identification has now come from i-record. According to the Essex Field Club map, this is only the second record for North Essex, the first also being in the Brightlingsea/Alresford Creek area in 2018].

After a splendid hour in an uplifting location, we will certainly be back. Not least because Jude immediately signed up as a Friend of Springmead Garden (only £5). Go along there (it is free!), enjoy, and perhaps you will do the same, maybe buying some of the wildlife-friendly plants propagated on site as well… And to add to the temptation, here are a few more photos demonstrating the beauty and interest of this spot, the green heart of Brightlingsea.

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: Euphorbia euphoria…

Spurges (Euphorbia) are one of the staples of gardens such as Beth Chattos that pride themselves at being water-wise. With their often acid-green inflorescences, they form many a backdrop, but too rarely take centre-stage. But they do have much of interest, not least because they are all so easily recognisable as close relatives with a wholly unique flower structure, called a ‘cyathium’ (one for the pub quizzers and crossword buffs). Here in the garden we have half a dozen or more forms flowering right now, with a whole range of others to come throughout the summer season.

Within the bowl of the cyathium lie not only the naughty bits but also the nectar glands, often distinctively coloured and/or shaped, and which are important features for the identification to species.

And along with the pollen-bearing stamens, the nectar glands are the source of sustenance for insects. Given their open inflorescences, with no way of restricting access to potential pollinators, spurges help support a vast range of insects, as shown today with hoverflies, other flies, pollen beetles, ladybirds and mini-miner bees all basking in the largesse.

The temperature was still on the chilly side, so there were in fact rather few insects around although lungwort was drawing in those species with long-enough tongues to get deep into the flowers and find the nectar. Queen bumblebees and Dark-edged Bee-flies were prospecting,  but most numerous were the Hairy-footed Flower-bees, with jerky flight and relatively high-pitched buzz, the larger, almost black females often being shadowed by a smaller, gingery male… Spring in the air!

Otherwise, the (mostly) blue grape-hyacinths and squills and yellow mahonias seemed to be the preferred forage sources for Honeybees…

 

But as can be seen from the photos below, there are many more nectar and pollen sources waiting in the wings for the burst of insect activity which should be on its way very soon. For insects, it is a case of ‘Right Plant, Right Place, Right Time’; given the endlessly variable interplay between the floral availability, insect emergence and weather conditions, this is where gardens like Beth Chatto’s (and indeed any garden that is not poisoned with pesticides, manicured to death or choked under plastic grass) come into their own.

 

The Wild Side of West London

Inspired in part by reading a new book we were sent for review (see here BOOK REVIEW: West London Wildlife | Chris Gibson Wildlife), we decided to spend a couple of days based in Chiswick to get to know some of the delights of that part of the city, both natural and otherwise. A great birthday present, as it turned out, in no small part to our break coinciding with the first truly warm Spring weather.

First it was to Gunnersbury Triangle, an iconic pocket park of a nature reserve, one we have been to several times before (see here and here for previous blogs). It was as expected delightful, with Chiffchaffs and Blackcaps singing, Sallow trees in bloom …

… and in sheltered spots, invertebrate life making most of the sunlight, including our first Dark-edged Bee-flies, Hairy-footed Flower-bees and Green Tortoise-beetles of the year…

… along with much, much more …

But special mention must be made of two very unexpected bugs, ones that tend to be found in rich sandy habitats and ancient woodland clearings respectively, Rhombic Leather-bug and the spurge-bug Dicranocephalus medius.

The surrounding area of Acton Green is not without interest either, from the Art Deco-style Chiswick Park tube station to the rather more recent Mosaic House, and everywhere splashes of natural colour revelling in the light:

Moving on to Chiswick proper, we went from the High Street and its profusely flowering Hop-hornbeams to the somewhat less attractive flyover…

…and the rather improbable survival of Hogarth’s House amid the roads and offices, with its garden, again an oasis of green, shot through with vivid spring colours.

Chiswick House & Gardens is of course an altogether larger green lung, with calling Nuthatches and singing Blackbirds. and as in all such places resounding to the incessant chatter of Rose-ringed Parakeets.

Coots were sitting tight on their monumental nests in the lake …

… and Stinking Hellebore was coming to the end of its flower season, while we have never seen Butcher’s-broom flowering so profusely, and as ever harbouring ladybirds, including this Cream-spot Ladybird.

Continuing up-river, Strawberry Hill House was full of the ‘eccentricities’ of the 18th century elite…

… and the garden had its own such oddities, with a lovely display of Hoop-petticoat Daffodils and a Grey Heron which has adopted the table-begging habits of the city pigeons.

Back to the river, our walk took us towards Teddington (sadly not along the bank itself, as the riparian frontage, which should be an asset for all, has been purloined by the select few) …

… across the bridge at Teddington Lock, with weed-waving Great Crested Grebes in full display …

… to Ham Lands nature reserve, where spring was once again asserting itself, with bursting buds of Wild Cherry, Norway Maple and Ash, buzzing Bee-flies, and and Brimstone butterflies everywhere!

A delightful end to our time in the Wild West of London, all rounded off with a welcome pint in The Anglers and a magnificent meal at The Wharf!

 

#WildEssex – a walk along Mistley Walls

A sunny day sandwiched between rain, rain and more rain –  we were so lucky that our Mistley bird walk turned out to be then!  So lovely to be out in the sunshine, though we were all glad of our gloves and hats as the wind was keen (as Jude’s Mum would have said!).

We kicked off with lunch in The Crown pub which coped with our various dietary requirements admirably  – this place seems to be going up in the world with some refurbishments inside and out. It really is the perfect spot to eat and enjoy views of the estuary, right over to Brantham and Holbrook. Restaurant | The Crown Manningtree | Manningtree

Our walk followed the banks of the Stour from Manningtree to Mistley, looking at the bird life being pushed up to us on the rising tide. The numbers of birds were perhaps not as many as we had hoped for – why was this?  Well, possibly we were slightly late in the season, the cold weather definitely a factor, and worryingly perhaps bird flu has taken a toll. We sadly saw a dead gull on the shore. ‘Social distancing’ isn’t something birds would know about, and Mistley can be a ‘’go to’ gathering place for our feathered friends.

We saw the usual waders, all uniquely equipped with different bill- and leg-lengths enabling them to forage for different goodies in the mud: Black-tailed Godwits (many starting to moult into russet summer plumage), Redshanks, Turnstones, Dunlins and Avocets, with a lone Oystercatcher pecking about in the confines of the old outdoor swimming pool.

Various kinds of duck floated by, including Teals, Shelducks and Mallards, and a couple of Great Crested Grebes with their weird and wonderful head adornments dived for lunch in the deeper waters of the Port as we looked on. Our local celebrity species, Dark-bellied Brent Geese were visible both out on the water in number and nearer the shore in small groups. Each estuary of the Essex coast is internationally important for these charming little geese, together supporting a fifth of the entire world population, breeding in high Arctic Siberia.

Gulls provided entertainment with their squawks and antics. Lesser Black-backed Gulls (particularly handsome birds in our opinion) were demonstrating courtship behaviour; Black-headed Gulls acquiring their ‘black’ heads (actually brown) to make themselves look even more beautiful; Herring Gulls with their customary cries and scuffles for food.

In the Mistley Towers grounds Blackbirds were seen and Robins heard. A Chiffchaff sang its onomatopoeic song, reminding us that Spring really is here (despite the chill wind, and forecast overnight frost!). But as our regulars know, birds are only a small part of what we are about – and other aspects of nature were noticed and enjoyed: Holm Oak leaf-miners patterning the leaves; lichens in many different forms on tree trunks and on the ancient wall of Hopping Bridge; the corky bark growth of Elm; and a smattering of plants including Sweet Violet, Red Dead-nettle and White Comfrey being particularly interesting. Few actual insects were seen apart from a 7-spot Ladybird, though of course the leaf mines were showing evidence of mass insect activity, the adult moths to come later in the summer.

 

 

The whole area of the Mistley Walls is historic and interesting – well worth a visit.  The Towers, designed by Robert Adam, proudly demonstrate the wealth that was Mistley. The church constructed between the towers is now long dismantled, but the structures themselves were retained as seamarkers for vessels approaching the port. Nowadays the quay area is rather sad, all fenced off (despite ‘Free the Quay’ campaigning for many years), but the local logistics company is clearly busy judging from the number of large lorries in and out. These vehicles no doubt contribute to the rather overwhelming volume of traffic along the Walls, bringing noise and pollution; although these factors were disturbing to we human beings, the resident (and many) local swans and geese seemed totally oblivious.

Ironically, it is these human intrusions that help to habituate the birds meaning the Walls are the best place to watch these normally shy creatures well anywhere on the Essex coast.

As always we were delighted that such a wonderful group of nature enthusiasts could join us and we look forward to the next WildEssex adventure…

 

 

 

The Wild Side of Essex with Naturetrek: a blustery day at the Naze

March at the Naze is always unpredictable weather-wise, but one constant feature is the wind! And so it proved, with 20-30+mph winds whipping across the headland, penetrating every nook and cranny, ensuring the bird life in particular remained well-concealed.

However in spells of springy sunshine the Red Crag cliffs were afire, brought to life by the blooming of Colt’s-foot on the slipping undercliff….

…. although by the time we made it onto the beach, the cloud had gathered, rain was imminent, the gloom mirrored in the London Clay and the beach clothed with pyritized wood and copperas after recent sand erosion from the foreshore.

A very high tide required a rejig of the our planned route, and meant there were rather few shorebirds. But most species were present and correct, Ringed Plovers seemingly the most numerous, and already noisily getting down to territorial display.

 A few Turnstones, Dunlins, Sanderlings and other waders provided good opportunities for side-by-side comparison, while other waterbirds included Brent Geese, numbers already seemingly reduced by spring migration back towards Siberia,  and a Woodcock that flew from our path through a copse, always a bonus bird.

But the wind kept most scrubland birds out of sight; Chiffchaffs and Cetti’s Warblers were singing well, maybe eight of the latter being a high number and a good sign for its continued spread into the drier scrub areas of the site.

The few trees on the windswept headland were just coming into their own, Hornbeam, Sallow and Alder all festooned in catkins….

…. while the absence of leaves make it all the easier to appreciate the weird and wonderful growth forms (Hornbeam), the distinctive pattern of diamond-shaped lenticels (White Poplar) and the natural lichen art on the trunks.

Gorse of course was in flower, against a blue sky a fitting tribute to the ongoing troubles of the Ukrainian peoples, along with Blackthorn just bursting into bloom….

… while the most important nectar source at the moment seems to be Alexanders, attracting solitary bees and dung flies aplenty. However much criticism can be levelled at alien plant, this is one such that really earns at keep at a time of year when native nectar sources are at a premium.

Insect life was not especially evident, given the wind, but three species of butterfly (Comma, Brimstone and Peacock) appeared in sheltered corners, along with nest-questing queen Buff-tailed Bumblebees, a few basking 7-Spot Ladybirds, a Hawthorn Shield-bug and a larval Cream-spot Tiger moth.

So, something for everyone in windy Wild Essex, even if the late Spring and the ferocity of the elements meant we found ourselves admiring ‘less obvious’ things like the newly sprouting shoots of Sea Hog’s-fennel (rarest plant of the day) and the acid-green fringe of Early Meadow-grass along the path sides, a former rarity, recent arrival and success story of climate collapse!

 

Halifax: four seasons in three days….

Second in our series (after Coventry) of seemingly unlikely holiday destinations, Halifax has been on our radar for several years. Long before Happy Valley-mania, a friend told us of the renovation and reopening of the Piece Hall, and with our love of Industrial Architecture, our interest was piqued. After several false starts (yes, Covid!) we finally got to spend a couple of days there last week…

The Piece Hall, an 18th-century textile market (albeit masquerading as a Venetian piazza) is regarded as the most important secular building in Yorkshire, and it is really a cathedral to commerce, the commerce that shaped West Yorkshire. All was quiet on the days we visited, just right to appreciate the scale and design, and the disappearing vistas down the colonnades.

The Piece Hall alone justified our visit, but there was so much more in the town, from the 19th-cntury Town Hall, designed by Charles Barry (he of the Palace of Westminster fame), to the numerous mills all in various stages of being upcycled into use once again.

And all buildings looking better than in the not-too-distant past, the honey-coloured stone (especially beautiful in sunlight) having been released from the smoky black legacy of the Industrial Revolution. All except for the oldest building, the Minster (dating back to around 1450) which was presumably too fragile and precious to withstand sandblasting: it still shows the soot of ages.

Pleasantly rustic inside, with some lovely, almost-clear windows showing their leaded tracery to advantage, this church was remodelled by yet another eminent Victorian architect, George Gilbert Scott.

As is our wont, we did of course seek out the green. A walk alongside the River Hebble provided just that, with mosses and ferns clothing stone walls, and last-year’s Self-heal bringing a touch of botanical art.

And it was art (and architecture), intentional and otherwise, that sent us through Leeds on the way to Halifax as we changed trains.

The beautiful blue skies of our arrival, however, didn’t last, and as the third day dawned, Storm Larisa was making her presence felt. Just time for a quick jaunt to see a friend in Sowerby Bridge, then make tracks homewards before the return of winter left us stranded…

The Forces of Upper Teesdale

Please forgive the gnomic title, but this blog is about my recent trip to Upper Teesdale, a magnificent part of our upland realm, a place shaped by its geology and its iconic waterfalls, or Forces, but ending with reference to the other of the forces, that Force of Nature, Margaret Bradshaw…

Almost as far from my usual lowland haunts as one can find in England, snow was still blanketing the higher Pennine slopes above Cow Green Reservoir, looking to Great Dun Fell.

Below the snow line, while cold, the air was remarkably still and ringing with the sound of the only birds on the higher, heathery slopes, the gobbling calls of Red Grouse.

Lower down, however, in the enclosed pastures, a windswept land of stunted trees and stone walls, Black Grouse were also much in evidence, more so than on my previous visits to the area, although only showing tentative signs of lekking.

But Lapwings, Curlews and Oystercatchers were back on territory after their winter sojourn by the sea, tumbling and peewiting, bubbling, and piping respectively, and with exuberant eruptions of fresh Mole hills signifying their release from the icy grip of winter.

Summer or winter, the geology and its process are always to be seen. The waterfalls of Low Force and High Force were both impressive in the spate of snowmelt.

High Force particularly is one of the iconic natural sights of our country, the largest single-drop cascade in England falling 21 metres into a deep plunge-pool, over rocks and cliffs seemingly immune to the scour of the rushing waters.

The slopes around High Force are clad in dwarf evergreen Juniper  forests, while woodland in the valleys was still bare, save for the dangling catkins of Hazel: spring arrives late in such extreme places.

All the better then to appreciate the mossy lichenscapes on  bark, stumps and boulders…

…with the evergreen Hard Shield-fern showing well alongside the first flowers of Opposite-leaved Golden-saxifrage. Even here Spring is springing.

But as for the unique upland flora of Upper Teesdale, one of the county’s botanical hotspots, nothing was stirring. Apart from within the confines of the High Force Hotel, where the main reason for my trip unfolded, the launch of a splendid new Princeton Wild Guides book Teesdale’s Special Flora – Places, plants and people by Dr Margaret Bradshaw. Many years in gestation (I was part of the delegation that exhorted her to write up her important, unique knowledge 15 years ago), Jude and I were privileged to have been asked to help steer this tribute to the Teesdale Assemblage towards publication.

Margaret, now 97, was there to sign copies (amazingly, her first book!), give speeches, and generally keep the event flowing with her precise recall of people, places, and especially plants. This book is as much a tribute to her – one of few botanists to be known universally by her initials MEB – as to the place itself.

Seemingly hewn from limestone and Whin Sill, the very rocks that give Upper Teesdale is character, Margaret has been a ceaseless advocate for the special flora for now 70 years, always speaking with deep scientific authority shot through with an evident love for this unique place. Put simply, the book is a must for anyone interested in, or visiting, Teesdale.

Without Margaret’s tenacity, the latter half of the 20th century would have seen huge, destructive inroads into this irreplaceable part of our botanical heritage. Even MEB failed to stop the destruction wrought by the imposition of Cow Green Reservoir on the landscape but, ever the scientist, she made the most of the opportunity to study ‘rescued rarities’ in cultivation, as well as to catalogue and survey those that remain with renewed urgency.

Now that the contents of her brain are available to us all, there is simply no excuse for us not to support the work of the Teesdale Special Flora Research and Conservation Trust (yes, of course set up by Margaret, in 2017) and enable it to carry forward her (thankfully) still-living legacy.

 

Thank you Margaret, and we can only wish you many more years of striding the hills among the flowers you love and have done so much to protect for us all.