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.

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.

A beautiful January day saw an interested group of tree fans on King George V field in Wivenhoe, looking at How to ID Trees in Winter from Bark and Buds. This area is now a well-used and loved playing field/recreation area and wild flower meadow, but was originally the grounds of the former Wivenhoe Hall. This explains the rather formal planting and ‘exotic’ trees in amongst the natives. The clear blue sky was a perfect back drop to clearly see the silhouettes of trees, the shapes of branches and outlines of buds. Together with these pointers, bark patterns and fallen leaves and fruits are useful diagnostic tools when deciding identification of trees at a time of year when leaves and fruits are not visible on the tree itself.

This blog uses photos from last year’s walk, together with some taken today.

ASH – in addition to its unmistakeable black buds, mostly in opposite pairs, with flattened twig tips, Ash also has smooth, pale bark, often covered in lichens, and usually (though not in the specimen we examined) some of the bunches of keys from last summer perched in its boughs.

OAK – the plump, chestnut-coloured buds are clustered at the tips of the twigs that arise from the branches that come from the trunk, which is covered in deeply ridged bark, the fissures more or less continuous, running down the trunk. Sometimes, in older specimens, the trunk is divided, by coppicing or pollarding, especially on old ownership boundaries where distinctive trees were used to define those boundaries legally, by way of a ‘perambulation’; some older specimens are characterized by ‘epicormic growth’ sprouting out of the bark (below, right).

BEECH (below, left) and HORNBEAM (below, middle and right) – the elongate, pointed shape of the buds of these two species is similar, but those of Beech are set at an angle to the twig, while those of Hornbeam are curved into (appressed to) the twig.  Beech often has dead leaves still attached in midwinter (Marcescence – Wikipedia), and smooth, silvery bark, with raised lines, rounded in profile, running down it. Hornbeam bark is similarly smooth, but the trunk is usually fluted, like a rippling muscle (indeed it is known as Musclewood in the USA).

And then to three fast-growing, often small species, good at colonising suitable habitats:

WILD CHERRY has clusters of buds borne on short, woody pedestals, and peeling, copper-coloured bark formed into distinct hoops around the trunk…

… while SILVER BIRCH has lovely white bark, delicately drooping branch tips, and often has remnants of last year’s seeding catkins at the same time as the coming summer’s catkins are starting to emerge…

… and ELDER has deeply ridged grey bark, often covered with mosses. It is also the first of our trees to burst into leaf, a true harbinger of Spring.

ELM is often distinguished as much by its dead stems, the victims of Dutch Elm Disease, as by its living features. But on a living trunk, the herringbone branching pattern of the twigs is usually apparent, as often are the main branches clothed in corky wings of bark.

Another tree bedevilled by disease is HORSE CHESTNUT, especially worrying in view of its rarity in its native Caucasus. The big, swollen buds with sticky scales are well known, but the horseshoe-shaped leaf-scars and smooth bark breaking into a patchwork of plates are equally distinctive.

Similar in name, but very different (and completely unrelated), the SWEET CHESTNUT is often noticeable by its halo of dead leaves lying on the ground, as they take several months to decay away. Its plump buds sit on ‘shelves’ on the ridged twigs, and the bark of a small tree is smooth and silvery, in marked contrast to an older tree  where the bark is strongly fissured, twisting around the trunk.

One of most distinctive winter trees is SYCAMORE with its smooth, grey bark, large, turgid buds, almost fit to burst, and beautiful bud-scales,  edged in maroon and fringed in white

Finally, mention must be made of the evergreens, historic adornments to the grounds of the former Wivenhoe Hall. The red-boughed SCOTS’ PINE (below, left) is one of only three native conifers in Britain, CEDAR-OF-LEBANON (below, right) is another species threatened in its native Middle Eastern home, and HOLM OAK (bottom), native to the Mediterranean basin. The latter is especially noticeable this winter from the crunching underfoot of its acorns, the result of one of its periodic ‘mast years’, perhaps likely to become more frequent in the era of climate collapse.

But the presence of leaves or needles doesn’t necessarily make identification easier: it is always worth getting to know their distinctive fruits, tree shapes and bark. No rest for the botanist, even in midwinter, but help will soon be at hand with the forthcoming ‘British & Irish Wild Flowers and Plants Pocket Guide’, hopefully to be published late Spring/Summer.

And what of wildlife other than the trees? Insects were not the focus today (precious few about in the cold wind!), but were couldn’t help notice rather impressive clutches of shiny black eggs on a twig…we think these are probably eggs of the Black Bean Aphid.

Otherwise, the Mistletoe on a Buckeye tree looked magnificent against its blue backdrop, and the now-ripened berries of Ivy were a reassuring sight for our birds, should this winter still have a sting in its tail…!