Blog Archives: Travel by Rail

A few days in London…

A largely photographic record of three wonderful autumnal days, albeit feeling more like high summer, exploring the capital, tasting the architectural, artistic and natural riches it has to offer.

Canyons of glass and steel, capturing but not quite taming the sky:

 

Surprising juxtapositions  of old with new, like a choral discord unsettling but thrilling. Churches everywhere, the legacy edifices of Wren and Hawksmoor, each subtly different, both inside and out: some uplifting, others deflating:

     

 

From spiritual to secular, a cathedral to power: Wapping Hydraulic Power Station, Victorian engineering predating the practicality of electricity transmission. Now hosting an art gallery, but in reality the rusting fabric is art in itself:

 

Always the River, lifeblood of London and its maritime and mercantile history. Once we oversaw its death, but the Thames is now reborn: we even saw a Seal swimming through Tower Bridge!

  

And for our green needs, not a Royal Park or the wilder stretches of the Thames Path, but this time – and for our first time – the London Wetland Centre. And mightily impressed we were too! Birds from all over the globe, some brought in, others attracted there by its abundant resources: a metaphor for the melting-pot that is London.

A Cornish Cornucopia…

The last knockings of a remarkable summer, as September slides into October: Cornwall – landscapes, both ancient and modern, and those innerscapes we so rarely take the time to see, let alone appreciate. Thank goodness for holidays, time to wait for lighting, perspective and detail to illustrate and illuminate the world around us.

     

St Michael’s Mount: even as the summer fades, flowers, both wild and cultivated, are still in bloom, some so bold they wouldn’t look amiss on the walls of Tate St Ives up the road. Natural Modernism, complementing the bold colours and shapes of the Patrick Herons. And where there are flowers there are insects…with spiders waiting their turn.

    

At St Ives, ‘twixt cobalt skies and azure seas, traditional seaside pursuits run alongside modern art and architecture. While everywhere there is natural art: rocks splashed with lichens; dappled sunlight filtering through Japanese anemones, illuminating the hairs on a Tobacco flower, and the start of next year’s hoverfly population.

Truro Cathedral – only a century old, but beautiful and artistically inspiring.

Revisiting the delights of rockpooling, with topshell and limpet.

 

 

Windswept, salt-pruned hedgerows, and hidden hollow-ways.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

Ivy everywhere, its intoxicating scent attracting insects galore to late-season riches: Honeybee, Ivy Bee and Painted Lady.

Oaks also demonstrating their role in supporting the web of life: galls on every leaf and branch – artichoke, silk-button and spangles, miniwasps with very different larval homes.

   

In the race to feed before leaves fall, plants being pierced by bugs – Squash, Spittle and Green Shield – and munched by leaf-beetles and caterpillars – Alder Sawfly in its woolly extruded coat, and a Pale Tussock moth larva in defensive posture.

Even on a fairly dull day, Hedge Bindweed seems to generate its own sunlight.

 

And finally some birds. Kingfisher and Dipper in the River Fowey, loved by all. Not so perhaps the ubiquitous Herring Gulls, but really it is us intruding in their space, not the other way around. Struggling in the ‘natural’ world, who can deny them a piece of their pasty?

 

Nature and Culture in Cologne

Why Cologne? Well, the first reason for our trip there was a concert of Russian music at the superb modern concert hall, but it was too good an opportunity to miss to make it a short break by train, and explore an unknown city. First stop of course was the monumentally magnificent cathedral: surely the apogee of gothicry?! Terrifying but inspiring in equal measure, and some lovely modern glass touches.

But as always we also sought out the green spaces, the refuges from the bustle and air quality of the city. One such was the Botanical Garden, five hectares of tranquillity, a short distance from the city centre. Interesting plantings – some formal, some less so, although never over-tidy – and some exciting plants, both native and ornamental kept us occupied for half a day. It could have been much longer!

Labelling was comprehensive, and largely accurate (a bête-noire of every botanist), and the maintenance is clearly based on good ecological and environmental principles: Rabbits grazing the lawns, and holes in the Hostas speak volumes! As did the Red Squirrels, noisy Marsh Frogs, dragonflies and a whole host of other insects….

Best of all, it was free, and clearly well-used and well-loved, by locals and visitors alike. Just as it should be. Just as anything which supports civilised thinking and behaviour in an uncertain world should be. Well done Cologne!

And then was the municipal Melaten cemetery, a little further out, more than 40 hectares and 55,000 graves, set amongst old mixed woodland. Again, the site is tended, but not in a precious manner: it is as much nature reserve and country park as last resting place. Buzzards were breeding in the treetops, while the diversity of insects – a mix of familiar and unknown to us – again kept us occupied for several hours….

Every city has places like these. Every city-dweller needs places like these, the source of physical and mental well-being as well as refuge for the wildlife itself from the rigours of modern countryside management and overdevelopment. Thank you Cologne for providing such places free of charge, which taken together with the music, architecture, food and beer we sampled, made it a perfect city break.

 

 

The Gunnersbury Triangle: antidote to the modern world?

I’ve written before about ‘accidental nature reserves’ – see Canvey Wick – where by virtue of accidents of geography, history or simply timing , nature has survived and thrived, often providing a striking counterpoint to the noise, bustle and stress of modern life.

Gunnersbury Triangle is one such place: in the heart of west London, its ‘accidental birth’ began in the late 19th century when it was isolated from the wider world, from the march of civilisation, by the creation of a triumvirate of railway lines. It remained in low-key use as allotments for railway workers for some time thereafter, and was partly moulded by gravel extraction. But all that ended long ago – presumably the railways became too busy to permit easy and regular access – and nature was allowed to reclaim its former domain.

The next accident – of timing – came in the 1980s, when as land values soared, it was threatened with development. Fortunately, this was one of the heydays of the Greater London Ecology Unit, and our friend David Goode and his colleagues, supporting an active grass-roots campaign group, convinced a public inquiry in a landmark planning decision for the natural world, that it should, indeed must, be spared as an essential urban green space.

We made our belated first visit yesterday, and immediately realised how valuable those efforts were, as well as the more recent, far from accidental, management activities of the London Wildlife Trust. To sit by the pond in mid-afternoon was a revelation. Virtually all the sound of the city was damped by the foliage, save for the occasional low rumble of a passing train, or a plane descending into Heathrow. But not just damped by the leaves, also masked by the volume of bird-song: Blackbird, Robin, Dunnock, Wren, Chiffchaff and Blackcap. Best of all a duet of Song Thrushes, one of which at least was sampling the sounds of the city in its repertoire.

And not just birds, but a whole ecosystem of plants and animals, cushioning us from the world. Orange-tip and Speckled Wood butterflies; Wasp-beetle; a Heliophanus jumping-spider; Hemlock Water-dropwort and Pendulous Sedge; and a whole raft of other beetles, bugs, galls, hoverflies, damselflies and mayflies to mention but a few. Like a lost world on a distant mountain plateau, life going on seeming oblivious to the constraints of its geography.

Never have I been so struck by the positive effect of nature’s sights and sounds in providing refuge from the world. Gunnersbury Triangle and places like it, of which there are examples in every town or city, are and must continue to be havens, shelters, places to which one can retreat, either physically or mentally, when the ‘real world’ gets too much.

Or perhaps we should reverse that thinking: a real world refuge from the artifice of modern life…

An Olympic Exploration

People have noticed that my blogs seem to have dried up recently. Some have even complained! Put simply, ‘retirement’ has proved to be busier than ever. But I do hope to resume posting, now that the busy wildlife tour season is over. I have several planned, but first I must say a few words about a place that surprised and excited us last week.

“Two day-returns to Stratford, please”. I said it quietly, hoping nobody in the queue would hear, and assume that we were heading out for a day’s shopping in Westfield, that cathedral of retail therapy. No, we were set to explore the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. Five years on from the Big Event, we were interested to see whether the much-talked-about green legacy had borne fruit. And we were not disappointed!

It all started well, with a cracking male Black Redstart feeding around the entrance to the park, and continued to provide wildlife excitement throughout the day, despite the breezy, often cloudy conditions. Yes, it was busy, hundreds of people enjoying themselves in formal and informal recreational activities, but the ‘green infrastructure’, within which the formal recreation facilities are embedded, more than met our expectations. Semi-naturalistic plantings of both native and non-native plants, rich in nectar and pollen sources, were so buzzing with invertebrate life especially, that we managed only to explore about half of the park in detail during the day. Most pleasing to note was the fact that the Park has not fallen into the grips of the ‘overtidying’ garden mafia, an important lesson that could usefully be learned by local authorities and gardeners across the country.

The photos below are a small example of the things we saw which excited us, and which will ensure that we return time and again. Might even be persuaded to do some shopping some time!

As usual, our attention was focussed upon the invertebrates, and while maybe we didn’t see anything too unexpected for this part of the world, the sheer volume of life, happily going about its business was a delight. Starting with the Big and Showy, a Jersey Tiger moth was especially dramatic (especially to us from north-east Essex, which has not yet seen the fruits of the Tiger’s recent range expansion), while other Lepidoptera included the chrysalis of a Small Tortoiseshell.

A fresh adult Blue-tailed Damselfly, and a nymph Field Grasshopper:

Our largest aphid, the Giant Willow Aphid Tuberolachnus salignus, and a Green Shield-bug final instar nymph:

Bee-wolves Philanthus triangulum, both male and female making good use of the umbelliferous nectar sources:

Beetles of all descriptions:  a Cryptocephalus pot-beetle, possibly C. pusillus, feeding on a rose-hip;  Brown Willow Beetle Galerucella lineola; the hairy darkling beetle Lagria hirta; and the larva of an Orange Ladybird.

Hoverflies galore: Eristalis arbustorum; Batman Hoverfly Myathropea florea; Volucella inanis; and the giant of them all, a couple of views of the Hornet Hoverfly Volucella zonaria.

And finally, reflecting Jude’s almost microscopic close-up vision, she kept finding these tiny eggs on filaments attached to all sorts of vegetation:

Green lacewings, we assumed, and to vindicate our assumption, here is a hugely gravid female, with the evidence right next to her…

Wonderful Wildlife Art at the Mall Galleries: ‘a glimpse of the wild in the heart of London’

allen-richard-summer-stonechat

Summer Stonechat by Richard Allen ASWLA

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday, we were lucky enough to be able to attend the Private View of this year’s Society of Wildlife Artists’ exhibition at the Mall Galleries in London (another benefit of the welcome flexibility that comes with ‘retirement’!). It was a great opportunity, second only to the Rutland Birdfair, to meet up with old friends and former colleagues, and to be immersed in a dazzling array of wildlife-themed artworks.

It is several years since my last visit to this annual exhibition, and it seems that the trend has been towards the kind of wildlife art I enjoy. In the past, I felt it was overly dominated by highly representational, almost photo-realistic pieces. All demonstrating incredible talent, but in this era of a multitude of actual photographic images of increasingly good quality, artworks depicting the same view of the world left me rather unmoved.

Not so this year however: a great range of more abstract works, or with strong graphic design elements, now seem to be in the majority. Pictures which capture the feel of the subject and its surroundings, which suggest rather than spoon-feed – that for me is what makes art such a powerful form of communication. Images that simplify reality to its essential elements, maybe introduce new colours or textures that challenge the way I see the natural world, and in the process help me appreciate and understand all the more the wonders of nature, and bolster my resolve to continue to fight for its protection.

So I would strongly recommend anyone who values the natural world and appreciates attempts to capture its essence on canvas or through sculpture to try and make time for an hour or two at the Mall Galleries: the exhibition runs until 6th November. Or at least look at the selected online gallery of images http://www.mallgalleries.org.uk/whats-on/exhibitions/natural-eye-2016#block-views-exhibition-content-block-2

The only downside was the unseasonal, almost tropical temperature with everyone crowded in. But even that bore fruit: in a desperate quest for cool, fresh air (insofar as London’s air can be described as fresh), we ventured outside for a few minutes, and came upon a beastie we have been searching for without success for a couple of years: the red-and-black lygaeid bug Arocatus longiceps, climbing up the exterior wall of the gallery, just a few metres from the nearest specimen of its host food plant, London Plane…

arocatus-longiceps

Apologies for the poor quality of the photo: taken on my mobile, as I made the classic mistake of leaving my camera at home. One day I will learn!

Thanks to Richard Allen for inviting us to the Private View, and to Andy Clements for extending that invitation to the BTO evening reception.