Nature Journal Archives

Botany along the Bizzle Burn

Northumberland’s Cheviot Hills have been a major focus of my extracurricular botany outings so far this year. Back in May, we enjoyed a fantastic visit to the Hen Hole and later returned with a group from the Natural History Society of Northumbria for another day of hills, ferns, and mountain flowers. Fast forward a few weeks, and it was time for another trip—this time to a part of the area I’m less familiar with.

The Bizzle Burn is a small waterway that flows down from Bizzle Crags toward Dunsdale in the College Valley. It’s a steep walk, but one that offers plenty for the keen-eyed botanist. The site has drawn attention for centuries due to its rare arctic-alpine flora, interesting ferns, and other botanical gems. This was our second attempt to explore it, having been rained off the hill late last year.

Spoiler – due to an unfortunate phone malfunction, pictures from this trip are somewhat limited. Sadly this included some of the special plants seen during the day. Still, we’ll preserve.

Setting out from our starting point at Cuddystone Hall, the walk to the base of the hill proved highly interesting. Along the path, typical upland grassland species such as Fairy Flax Linum catharticum, Wavy Hair-grass Avenella flexuosa and Wild Thyme Thymus drucei were seen. These are all plants commonly associated with the thin, parched soils of this terrain. On the walls surrounding a farmhouse passed early in the walk, the day’s first ferns made an appearance in the form of Maidenhair Spleenwort Asplenium trichomanes subsp. quadrivalens and Wall-rue Asplenium ruta-muraria. The Harebells Campanula rotundifolia were also particularly striking along this stretch.

Slightly more unusual species were encountered in a damp rut about halfway along the trail. The vivid flowers of Bog Asphodel Narthecium ossifragum were an immediate draw, and a closer inspection revealed the characteristic leaves of Round-leaved Sundew Drosera rotundifolia, one of our region’s few carnivorous plants.

Further uphill, a pause to explore the scree slopes yielded a fascinating suite of ferns. The most plentiful was Narrow Male-fern Dryopteris cambrensis, easily recognised by its distinctive wavy pinnae but also recorded were Male-fern Dryopteris filix-mas and several young specimens of the quirky Parsley Fern Cryptogramma crispa. A bit of poking around beneath overhangs revealed both Brittle Bladder-fern Cystopteris fragilis and Polypody Polypodium vulgare.

At the bridge at the foot of the trail leading up the Bizzle, another overhang held a somewhat desiccated example of what I believe to be Delicate Maidenhair Spleenwort Asplenium trichomanes subsp. trichomanes — a relatively rare relative of the more familiar Maidenhair Spleenwort commonly found on garden walls. A few Common Spotted-orchids Dactylorhiza fuchsii were also growing nearby, and a look at the riverside gravels revealed an interesting variety of willows. These included Purple Willow Salix purpurea, Osier Salix viminalis, Goat Willow Salix caprea, Eared Willow Salix aurita, and Grey Willow Salix cinerea.

Delicate Maidenhair Spleenwort
*Asplenium trichomanes subsp. trichomanes*

Having passed the last vestiges of civilisation, we soon began our walk up the burn, initially passing through heather and areas of acid grassland before following the now stone-dry watercourse the rest of the way. It was tough going in places, and a near miss with a large female Adder certainly livened up proceedings. A few Common Lizards were also spotted along this stretch.

It was around this point that my camera began to malfunction, so photographic evidence is limited. Nevertheless, the plant life in the burn bed was typical for this part of the valley. The montane willowherbs were in full flower, with some attractive examples of Chickweed Willowherb Epilobium alsinifolium found alongside Alpine Willowherb Epilobium anagallidifolium and the non-native New Zealand Willowherb Epilobium brunnescens. Also of note was a lingering patch of Pale Forget-me-not Myosotis stolonifera, another local speciality. A suite of species more commonly associated with woodland was also encountered, including Opposite-leaved Golden Saxifrage Chrysosplenium oppositifolium, Wood Crane’s-bill Geranium sylvaticum, and Wood Sorrel Oxalis acetosella.

Chickweed Willowherb *Epilobium alsinifolium*

Befitting my newfound obsession with ferns, it was the pteridophytes that proved most interesting at these lofty heights. The day’s target species, Northern Buckler-fern Dryopteris expansa, was eventually located after considerable effort tucked among its preferred scree habitat. The diversity of other species present was impressive as well and, in no particular order, included common types such as Broad Buckler-fern Dryopteris dilatata, Narrow Male-fern Dryopteris cambrensis and Hard-fern Blechnum spicant, along with some altogether scarcer finds: Oak-fern Gymnocarpium dryopteris, Parsley Fern Cryptogramma crispa, and Borrer’s Male-fern Dryopteris borreri. The latter was a bit of a surprise, as I’ve always associated it with woodland – but who knows!

At the top of the burn, we eventually emerged into a vast, open corrie at the foot of Bizzle Crags. This is where many of the more interesting plants are known to grow, though oddly, we struggled to locate several of the anticipated targets – including Alpine Clubmoss and Fir Clubmoss – and some others were well past their best due to the heat, particularly the Mossy Saxifrage.

That said, Beech Fern Phegopteris connectilis was a pleasing find among the scree, and a scramble up to a damp ledge yielded some interesting discoveries, including Butterwort Pinguicula vulgaris and Viviparous Sheep’s-fescue Festuca vivipara. I had considered continuing higher, but by this point, my legs were beginning to protest. The 1970s record of Green Spleenwort will have to wait for another day…

Viviparous Sheep’s-fescue
*Festuca vivipara*

We ended our hike at the corrie, opting not to follow the burn further on this occasion. A walk beyond that point will have to be saved for a cooler day, I think. Still, the descent via a slightly different route added plenty to the plant list and offered some truly stunning views.

In my opinion, this walk isn’t quite as botanically diverse as the Hen Hole, but it’s a beautiful route nonetheless and well worth doing if you find yourself with a day to spare.

The Tees to High Force

Fresh from our recent visit to Falcon Clints, last week, I had the pleasure of returning to Upper Teesdale – this time as part of the Botanist’s Year course I’m leading for the Natural History Society of Northumbria. This walk was a little less strenuous than our previous outing and took us from Bowlees, past Low Force, and on to the spectacular High Force waterfall. Along the way, we encountered a variety of fascinating plants and as ever, this blog will list just a few of the highlights.

One of the things I adore most about Teesdale is the abundance of Globeflower Trollius europaeus. There is just something about these plump, yellow, spherical blooms that makes me feel inextricably happy. Perhaps that joy comes from the plant’s tendency to grow in particularly special places, often in rugged upland areas?

Closely associated with limestone, Globeflower favours damp, open habitats along rivers and on mountain slopes. Along the Tees, it is remarkably abundant, and almost as soon as we reached Low Force, we were treated to a fine display.

Having spent more than enough time admiring the Trollius, we soon set off along the banks of the Tees. In these early stages of the walk, we encountered several other interesting plants, including Rock Whitebeam Sorbus rupicola and Dark-leaved Willow Salix myrsinifolia, two of the area’s more notable trees. We also came across several more commonplace species including Bitter-vetch Lathyrus linifolius and Wood Crane’s-bill Geranium sylvaticum.

Far more striking during these early stages were the orchids, which, thanks to some long-overdue rain, were now flourishing. Early-purple Orchids Orchis mascula are usually plentiful along the riverbanks here, but most (aside from the fine specimen below) were now past their best. In their place, the summer species were beginning to take over, including a large population of Heath Spotted-orchid Dactylorhiza maculata and several smaller populations of Northern Marsh-orchid Dactylorhiza purpurella.

We also observed signs of hybridisation between the latter two species, which had produced several pale-pink, intermediate specimens. These may well turn out to be the hybrid Dactylorhiza × formosa, though I’m not entirely certain. Orchids are a rather difficult bunch…

Orchids aside, the banks of the Tees are an excellent place to spot all manner of colourful and interesting plants, including several of the area’s specialities. On our way to the midpoint at Holwick Bridge, we were pleased to encounter Common Butterwort Pinguicula vulgaris, Alpine Bistort Bistorta vivipara, and a handful of Bird’s-eye Primrose Primula farinosa that had not yet gone over.

Arguably more interesting during this leg of the trip were several superb examples of Shrubby Cinquefoil Dasiphora fruticosa. A species of damp rock ledges and riverbanks subject to periodic flooding, this is an incredibly rare native plant whose distribution maps are distorted by escapes from cultivation. In fact, it is more commonly encountered as a garden escapee – often from supermarket car parks – but in the wild, it occurs in Teesdale and just a select few other locations. With its vibrant yellow flowers, it is quite the attractive plant.

As we neared Holwick Bridge, several more noteworthy plants caught our attention. First came a lovely brace of Common Twayblade Neottia ovata – not the most eye-catching of orchids, I admit – and later, an exciting duo of horsetails. Wood Horsetail Equisetum sylvaticum was easy to spot thanks to its distinctive, feathery branches. The second, Shady Horsetail Equisetum pratense, took a bit more effort to identify.

Once you get your eye in, it has a fairly distinctive appearance, with its branches swept to one side in a somewhat Trump-esque fashion. It is an uncommon plant in England, with the majority of the national population found in Scotland.

In the near area, we also encountered a flowering patch of Common Bistort Bistorta officinalis.

Beyond the bridge and onwards towards High Force, the flora began to shift, with lush riverside vegetation gradually giving way to Juniper Juniperus communis scrub. It was disheartening to see that many of the junipers were blighted by disease – presumably the much-maligned Phytophthora austrocedri. Still, despite this, we were pleased to spot some cheerful Mountain Pansies Viola lutea, and the scenic views were certainly not to be scoffed at.

The surroundings of High Force itself proved interesting, particularly due to the variety of ferns present. While we didn’t manage to find the hoped-for Mountain Male-fern Dryopteris oreades, we did come across some fine examples of Narrow Male-fern Dryopteris cambrensis. Better still was Lemon-scented Fern Oreopteris limbosperma, with its distinctive tapering fronds and subtle citrus aroma.

We also found some attractive Beech Fern Phegopteris connectilis, and a brief look at the insect life proved rewarding. A fleeting glimpse of a Broken-belted Bumblebee Bombus soroeensis – sadly too quick for a photo – was followed by several rather more obliging Gypsy Cuckoo Bumblebees Bombus bohemicus.

Gypsy Cuckoo Bumblebee *Bombus bohemicus*

After saying our goodbyes to the group, Matt and I decided to make the most of the day by setting out in search of yet more ferns (by this stage, you may be noticing a bit of a trend this year). High on our agenda was an abandoned quarry on the opposite bank of the Tees, not far from the paid entrance to High Force.

Following in the footsteps of John Durkin, who recorded several interesting species here in 2023, we set about exploring the quarry walls – and were rewarded with some noteworthy finds.

Among the more common ferns were Wall-rue Asplenium ruta-muraria and Maidenhair Spleenwort Asplenium trichomanes subsp. quadrivalens. More exciting, at least for this budding pteridologist, were Rustyback Asplenium ceterach and Delicate Maidenhair Spleenwort Asplenium trichomanes subsp. trichomanes – two species I see far too infrequently for my liking.

Among the larger ferns, one in particular caught my eye due to its noticeably extended dark blotches at the junction of the costa and the rachis. My hunch was that this might be a new species for us – Alpine Male-fern Dryopteris lacunosa – however, as I wasn’t yet fully familiar with the species, we chose to leave it unidentified for the time being.

Happily, once photos were shared with John Durkin, he appeared to confirm my suspicion. We’ll need to check in again to be sure, but this could well represent the first record of D. lacunosa for Upper Teesdale – how exciting, and what a fitting note on which to end this little blog.

For those interested, I share further musings on Dryopteris lacunosa [here].

On the hunt for Dryopteris lacunosa

Last week, I visited an abandoned quarry in Upper Teesdale and found myself puzzling over an unusual-looking fern. It seemed to resemble both Borrer’s Male-fern Dryopteris borreri and the Common Male-fern Dryopteris filix-mas, but something didn’t feel quite right – at least to my novice eyes.

The main point of confusion was the distinctive ‘dark spot’ at the base of the costa which typically helps identify the scaly male-ferns. In this specimen, the spot was unusually extensive and, on the underside of the pinna, extended some way up the costa. From my hazy recollection, in D. borreri, this spot is usually fairly faint and confined to the point where the pinna meets the rachis.

Beyond that, I was stumped. Aside from snapping the photos below, I decided to leave it there. However, having revisited a few Facebook posts from local botanist, John Durkin, mentioning that same feature in another species, Alpine Male-fern Dryopteris lacunosa, I am beginning to wonder…

Unknown *Dryopteris* from Upper Teesdale

After a deep dive on the internet, I found relatively little information about Dryopteris lacunosa. It appears to be a fairly recent split from the Dryopteris affinis aggregate and has only recently started to be recorded in parts of the UK. From what I can gather, most records are concentrated in Cumbria, western Scotland, Wales, and southern Ireland. Pleasingly, however, the species has now been recorded at a few select sites in North East England – thanks to the efforts of recorders far more knowledgeable than I.

One of these sites, Blaydon Burn, lies just a short distance from home so with a day off work, I thought I’d try to seek it out for myself.

Dryopteris lacunosa at Blaydon

The most helpful information I’ve found on Dryopteris lacunosa comes from an excellent page by Roger Golding, which includes images highlighting the key features to look out for – most notably, that extended dark blotch on the costa. A very informative online talk by Alison Evans offers further insight, mentioning additional traits such as the distinctive double teeth, funnel-shaped gaps between the teeth, and the long stalks on the pinnae. A third mention, on a blog by the Kirkcudbrightshire Botany Group, echoed many of these points. All of it made for very useful reading on the bus to Blaydon!

Blaydon Burn Nature Reserve was entirely new to me, but with its steep, well-vegetated banks lining the burn, it immediately looked promising for ferns. And indeed, it delivered with plenty of Male-fern, Borrer’s Male-fern, and Broad Buckler-fern Dryopteris dilatata noted, along with Hard-fern Blechnum spicant, Lady-fern Athyrium filix-femina, and Hard Shield-fern Polystichum aculeatum. All species one can expect to encounter in Tyneside’s humid denes.

The first interesting fern (pictured below) came about 15-minutes into the walk…

Possible *Dryopteris lacunosa* showing extensive dark spot

In the individual pictured above, the dark mark at the junction of the costa and rachis was extremely pronounced extending, in some cases, a good inch up the stem. In this neck of the woods, that would suggest either D. borreri or D. lacunosa (it certainly wasn’t D. affinis). If you look closely at the zoomed-in image below, you can also make out double teeth on the auricles (the ‘ear’ or lobe at the base of the pinnule). These were distinctive in some cases but rather variable, and certainly not present on all of the lowest pinnules I examined.

The gaps between the teeth were even less clear-cut, and I must admit this isn’t an area I’m particularly familiar with. That said, in many instances, they could reasonably be described as funnel-shaped, though I do rather like the ‘fjord-shaped’ description mentioned in the video linked above.

After pottering further into the woods, I came across two more promising individuals on a slope among patches of both D. filix-mas and D. borreri. In these specimens, the dark marking was even more extensive and far more convincing. The pinnae stalks also appeared longer, and at least some double teeth were clearly visible. I still can’t quite wrap my head around the reference to ‘islands’ in this resource, but otherwise, the features seemed to line up well.

The fourth and final candidate I found was a small, immature specimen perched above an eroded area further up the bank. Most of its fronds had yet to develop the characteristic dark mark, but on one mature frond, the blotch was incredibly extensive – more so than I’ve seen on any fern before. This feature alone was more convincing than the presence of double teeth, though the auricles on the more mature frond were clearly toothed as well.

Having spent a good few hours now examining collected fronds and poring over photos from the trip, I feel reasonably confident that I’ve found something different from the ferns I usually encounter. After comparing my specimens to images associated with accepted records of Dryopteris lacunosa in the local area, I’m cautiously optimistic that this may, in fact, be it. That said, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if I’m mistaken – ferns are a notoriously tricky group, and despite the time I’ve been dedicating to learning them, they continue to frustrate me no end. If, by chance, a proper pteridologist stumbles across this post, please do feel free to correct me!

As for my original Teesdale fern – the jury is still out. The dark spot is certainly promising, but the absence of double teeth (or lobes, for that matter, as seen in Roger Golding’s images) is a bit disconcerting. I won’t be submitting a record for that one unless someone with more expertise can weigh in and help clarify things.

Along the Hareshaw Burn

I love Hareshaw Linn, so much so have that I have written about the plants there several times on this blog (see here and here). There is just something about remote but lovely dene, with its ancient woodland flora and impressive waterwall that makes me incredibly happy. Despite frequent visits, each time I travel there I manage to see something new and worth talking about so, despite a little repetition, here we are again!

Last weekend, Matt and I had run out of ideas for new places to visit in the local area, so with ferns in mind, we decided to return to our favourite local haunt for a walk along the Hareshaw Burn. Setting out from Bellingham, the walk into the dene was fairly uneventful, apart from the appearance of Downy Currant Ribes spicatum in scrub near the car park and an impressive patch of Good-King-Henry Blitum bonus-henricus in grassland about 100 metres into the walk. Both are elusive plants in the area.

Reaching the dene, we were immediately greeted by a burst of colour from countless woodland flowers, a welcome change given our tendency to visit later in summer, when most of the blooms have faded. The bluebells and anemones had long since passed, but in their place we found plenty of Sanicle Sanicula europaea, along with Wood Crane’s-bill Geranium sylvaticum and Water Avens Geum rivale. Slightly more interesting was the presence of several patches of Hybrid Avens Geum × intermedium, distinguishable by its yellow colouring inherited from its other parent, Wood Avens Geum urbanum.

**Wood Crane’s-bill**
*Geranium sylvaticum*

A little further into the dene, these relatively common woodland flowers faded into insignificance with the discovery of perhaps the day’s most exciting find: Herb-paris Paris quadrifolia. This rare and rather special plant typically grows only in the high quality woodlands and it is a joy to behold under any circumstances. I seem to be on a lucky streak with this species, having already encountered it this year at Letah Woods and Morpeth. However, while I knew it existed somewhere in the area, the Hareshaw population was entirely new to me. We came across a great many plants scattered across an area of about five metres, though realistically there could have been many more.

Prying ourselves away from the Paris, the next portion of the walk brought a few other interesting woodland plants. Common Cow-wheat Melampyrum pratense was a particularly nice find, and a species I rarely encounter, and plenty of Yellow Pimpernel Lysimachia nemorum was also seen along the path edges.

The grasses too were well worth a look with several ancient woodland indicators found in good quantity. By far the most abundant was False Brome Brachypodium sylvaticum, but we also noted Hairy-brome (Bromopsis ramosa), Wood Melick Melica uniflora and Giant Fescue Schedonorus giganteus. The most interesting grass, however, was Wood Fescue Drymochloa sylvatica. This rare species is limited in distribution to just a few parts of the UK, where it grows on near-vertical cliffs, rocky slopes and beside waterfalls. Northumberland supports one of the largest populations, with a strong concentration of sites along the River Tyne.

But what about the ferns? The steep-sided banks of the Hareshaw Burn and Hareshaw Linn are notable for supporting a range of uncommon – and in some cases, extremely rare – ferns. As we wandered along, we spotted many of the more commonplace species with relative ease, including Broad Buckler-fern Dryopteris dilatata, Lady-fern Athyrium filix-femina, Borrer’s Male-fern Dryopteris borreri and Male-fern Dryopteris filix-mas.

Much more exciting, however, was the presence of two rather uncommon ferns typically associated with shaded, humid woodlands like this: Beech Fern Phegopteris connectilis and Oak Fern Gymnocarpium dryopteris. Both are found predominantly in upland areas and tend to grow in moist, undisturbed settings, often on steep banks. Beech Fern in particular is a striking plant, easily recognised by its erect and distinctive ‘rabbit ear’ leaflets, which set it apart from all other species.

Also of note on the fern front was a small buckler-fern found on a steep bank beside the path. On closer inspection, it turned out to be Narrow Buckler-fern Dryopteris carthusiana – a species I must admit to having overlooked on all my previous visits to the site. It can be distinguished from the larger and more abundant Broad Buckler-fern by its uniformly pale scales and its rhizomatous habit, with fronds pointing in separate directions. This contrasts with the typical shuttlecock appearance of the latter species.

We also recorded Hard Shield-fern Polystichum aculeatum along this stretch, but failed to find the hoped-for Lemon-scented Fern Oreopteris limbosperma.

**Narrow Buckler-fern** *Dryopteris carthusiana*

Eventually, we reached the picturesque waterfall at Hareshaw Linn and after a spot of lunch, set about exploring the ferns growing on the steep limestone cliffs nearby. The rarest fern on site turned out to be the easiest to find, with hundreds of specimens of Lobed Maidenhair Spleenwort Asplenium trichomanes subsp. pachyrachis spotted during our short visit. I’ve written about this attractive little fern before, but suffice it to say that Hareshaw Linn is the only place in Northumberland where this subspecies can be seen.

Also present on the falls, though far rarer, was Green Spleenwort Asplenium viride – seen clinging to the cliff face. This species appears to be just barely hanging on here. Brittle Bladder-fern Cystopteris fragilis was thankfully more widespread and added a final touch of interest before we turned for home.

**Lobed Maidenhair Spleenwort** *Asplenium trichomanes* subsp. *pachyrachis*

Arctic-Alpine Plants in the Cheviots

Back in 2023, I was lucky enough to visit the Hen Hole for the first time, spending a riveting day exploring the rare arctic-alpine plants found in this spectacular gorge in the Cheviots. Although we saw a great deal during that visit, we missed many of the more elusive species that make this place so special. Ever since, I’ve wanted to return and and last week, the opportunity finally came.

Accompanied by Sacha Elliot, and having purchased a parking permit that allowed us to halve the otherwise long walk from Hethpool, we set out from the Mounthooley Bunkhouse in the College Valley. Our goal was to reach the Hen Hole and continue a bit further onto the montane slopes surrounding The Cheviot. We succeeded, spending an enjoyable five hours exploring the flora of this diverse, beautiful, and rugged corner of Northumberland with seven distinct target plants in mind.

The text below aims to summarise the visit – I’ll try not to let it get too long!

Setting out from Mounthooley, the first half-hour of the walk was fairly uneventful, at least until we reached the large open area about 0.5 km before the initial ascent into the Hen Hole. Just look for a sea of Hare’s-tail Cottongrass Eriophorum vaginatum and you can’t go far wrong here!

Here, the rocky banks of the College Burn held much of interest, as did the smaller, moss-strewn islands within the main channel – the plants in this area presumably comprising a mix of resident species and others washed down from higher up the valley. One notable find was Narrow Male-fern Dryopteris cambrensis, along with various commonplace heathland species that I encounter far too rarely in the lowlands: Heath Bedstraw Galium saxatile, Heath Milkwort Polygala serpyllifolia, Heath Rush Juncus squarrosus and others.

Even more exciting were the less frequent species shown below. The beautiful Starry Saxifrage Micranthes stellaris was abundant on the riverside rocks, while small pockets of Parsley Fern Cryptogramma crispa clung to areas of boulder and erosion. This is a species listed on the Rare Plant Register for North Northumberland. We even came across an entirely new plant for me (well, sort of) in the rarer subspecies of Thyme-leaved Speedwell Veronica serpyllifolia subsp. humifusa, growing among the moss. This is a plant largely confined to permanently moist upland habitats an differs markedly from the common form often seen in urban settings.

Nearby, the mossy islands in the channel were adorned with Opposite-leaved Golden Saxifrage Chrysosplenium oppositifolium.

Moving at a botanist’s pace towards the valley (in practice, only marginally quicker than a snail), another thing that quickly became apparent was the abundance of plants typically associated with older woodland. I have already mentioned Opposite-leaved Golden Saxifrage, but also present were Greater Wood-rush Luzula sylvatica, Bluebell Hyacinthoides non-scripta, Wood-sorrel Oxalis acetosella, Wood Sage Teucrium scorodonia and Bugle Ajuga reptans, alongside the pretty Wood Crane’s-bill Geranium sylvaticum shown below. All of these added a welcome touch of colour along the initial leg of our journey.

The Hen Hole walk truly becomes interesting once you begin your ascent into the gorge. Here, areas of scree, steep-sided cliffs and boulder fields conceal much of interest. Ferns are especially diverse and with some care, rarities can be found including Mountain Male-fern Dryopteris oreades and Northern Buckler-fern Dryopteris expansa. We succeeded in locating the former, identifiable by its sori which cover less than half of the pinnule surface. Despite our efforts, however, we were unable to find the buckler-fern. Not an ideal start, but a good reason to return.

Other ferns present among the scree included Beech Fern Phegopteris connectilis and Parsley Fern Cryptogramma crispa, alongside a range of more familiar species such as Male-fern Dryopteris filix-mas and Broad Buckler-fern Dryopteris dilatata. Areas within the splash zone of the waterfalls held more Starry Saxifrage, as well as Common Butterwort Pinguicula vulgaris and two notable willowherbs: the non-native New Zealand Willowherb Epilobium brunnescens and the rare native Alpine Willowherb Epilobium anagallidifolium. Also present were other attractive upland species including Goldenrod Solidago virgaurea and Bog Asphodel Narthecium ossifragum.

No trip to the Hen Hole would be complete without a moment to pause and admire the Three Sisters waterfall, a striking landmark popular with visitors and, for many, the end point of their walk.

The Three Sisters – seemingly the point most visitors decide to turn back

Having passed the Three Sisters and clambered further up the valley, new plants began to appear thick and fast. Common species included Water Avens Geum rivale, Cowberry Vaccinium vitis-idaea and Crowberry Empetrum nigrum. Upon reaching the plateau, we found the Heath Spotted-orchids Dactylorhiza maculata we had observed two years earlier in full flower once again.

Further interest was found in rocky areas and atop boulders where several fine specimens of the curious Fir Clubmoss Huperzia selago were growing. This is another rare species in Northumberland, confined to a handful of remote upland settings. Nationally, it is typical of montane grasslands, and one I have encountered only a few times before in similarly inaccessible places.

After reaching the top of the corrie and taking in the impressive views back down the valley, we located the first of our target species: Alpine Clubmoss Diphasiastrum alpinum, by far the most unassuming of the day’s intended plants. One down, five to go!

The next plant on our hitlist was a real beauty, and another new species for me. Roseroot Rhodiola rosea is a perennial, succulent herb of sea cliffs and rock crevices on moist mountain ledges. As a native, it is confined entirely to such habitats, with the Hen Hole population being the only one in Northumberland. After breaking out the trusty GPS, it did not take long to find three plants growing in a series of rather inaccessible locations. As you can see from the photo below, it is quite a striking plant.

Nearby, we also noted another of our target species in Viviparous Sheep’s-fescue Festuca vivipara (not quite as striking, I admit) as well as more Beech Fern and higher up, a lovely patch of Mossy Saxifrage Saxifraga hypnoides – a plant that reminds me a little of fried eggs and was indeed the fourth of our target species for the day.

Having finished exploring along the burn, we set our sights a little higher, aiming to find what is easily the most exciting plant in the Cheviots – at least for keen botanists. With this in mind, we began to slip up the grassy slopes of the mountain, clambering to around 700 metres in 50 mph winds. Quite the experience, I tell you. Even though it was amusing to see Sacha literally blown to the ground, I would not recommend anyone attempt the same in such conditions.

The special plant in question is, of course, Alpine Foxtail Alopecurus magellanicus – a rather small but endearing grass of oligotrophic springs and flushes in upland areas. The population here is particularly important as it represents the only known site for the species in Northumberland, although the plant is somewhat more widespread in parts of Scotland. After some pained climbing, I am pleased to say that we found it.

Having spent an enjoyable yet windy ten minutes in the company of the foxtail, all that remained was to climb down the slope and retrace our steps down the valley. However, another surprise awaited us on the way: Globeflower Trollius europaeus. This is a species I am used to seeing in areas of County Durham, especially Upper Teesdale, but I had yet to lay eyes on it in my own home county. The species is known from the Cheviots, though it was last recorded here by the legendary George Swan back in 1975. After checking with my fellow recorder for North Northumberland, this sighting turned out to be an exciting refind of a special plant not seen in quite some time.

I admit it seems we found it purely by chance – there was only one flower on the entire hillside as far as we could see, growing near more Alpine Clubmoss and Fir Clubmoss.

Sacha and her Globeflower *Trollius europaeus*

Following the Globeflower, the walk back down the valley was fairly relaxed. We paused to admire a Peregrine, took another look at the burnsides, and explored a few new crags where we added two new species to the day’s list: Common Polypody Polypodium vulgare and Brittle Bladder-fern Cystopteris fragilis — both common on remote rock faces. We made it back to the car about an hour later, content with our haul and pleased that the trip had succeeded without any wind-related mishaps.

In total, we found five of the seven species we set out to locate at the start of the trip including Alpine Clubmoss, Alpine Foxtail, Roseroot, Viviparous Sheep’s-fescue and Mossy Saxifrage. The Northern Buckler-fern proved too much of a stretch on this occasion, and we also missed the rare Alpine Saw-wort Saussurea alpina, known here for many years. Oh well, that alone is reason enough to return soon.

Brittle Bladder-fern *Cystopteris fragilis*

For those looking to learn more about the Hen Hole and the special plants found in this part of the Cheviots, a helpful report by Chris Metherell can be found here.

An expedition to Falcon Clints

Upper Teesdale is a truly remarkable place, packed with rare and wonderful arctic-alpine plants. Each year, I try to visit at least once and each time manage to discover something new and exciting to make the trip worthwhile. Last week, my annual visit came around again and together with NHSN’s Urban Naturalist, Ellie, I set off in search of a group of species I’d yet to properly explore in this part of the world – ferns!

Of course, before the fern hunting could begin, we had to reach Falcon Clints, a truly stunning gorge nestled below the confluence of Maizebeck and the River Tees. To get there, we first had to cross Cow Green with all its botanical riches (such a chore, I know!). As expected, this leg of the trip was a delight with hundreds of Mountain Pansies Viola lutea now in full bloom. As you can see, these cheerful little plants come in a brilliant range of colours.

Despite the abundance of pansies, one thing that struck us immediately was the near-total absence of Spring Gentians Gentiana verna. They had all gone over, perhaps hastened by the warm weather. Nevermind; what we did find during this stage of the walk more than made up for it. In damper spots, the Bird’s-eye Primroses Primula farinosa were out in force Variegated Horsetail was a particularly nice find in the flushes. Hardly the most inspiring plant, I confess, but I’ve always had a soft spot for it.

Variegated Horsetail *Equisetum variegatum*

Further down the trail, about halfway to Cauldron Snout, more notable species were found. Mountain Everlasting Antennaria dioica was a highlight, and Sea Plantain Plantago maritima was in flower. In the drier, more exposed areas of sugar limestone, we also came across Spring Sandwort Sabulina verna, and grassy patches offered Lesser Clubmoss Selaginella selaginoides, Blue Moor-grass Sesleria caerulea, and countless sedges which we opted to overlook this time.

The initial descent down Cauldron Snout is truly beautiful and well worth a pause, if you’re ever passing. Falcon Clints is equally, if not more, breath-taking with its steep dolerite cliffs fringed by dramatic scree slopes. It’s worth taking a moment to appreciate the gradual shift in vegetation as you scan down the cliff face: moorland heather giving way to stunted trees and herbs, and eventually, to ferns. We even spotted a few Ring Ouzel – always nice to see.

The list of ferns found at Falcon Clints is impressive – if a little daunting – with species ranging from common woodland fare to truly rare plants found pretty much nowhere else in England. Some of the more familiar species we encountered early on included Lady-fern Athyrium filix-femina, Bracken Pteridium aquilinum, Narrow Male-fern Dryopteris cambrensis, Broad Buckler-fern Dryopteris dilatata and Hard-fern Blechnum spicant, but these quickly faded into the background as we began to explore the scree.

The first exciting discovery was the curious-looking Parsley Fern Cryptogramma crispa, a calcifuge pioneer often found on exposed rock and former mine waste. It is a rather lovely plant, as is the next species we came across – Beech Fern Phegopteris connectilis. Now that I think about it, this may be the first time I’ve seen this distinctive little fern outside of damp, humid woodland.

Arguably more exciting, at least for this novice pteridologist, was the presence of several stands of Mountain Male-fern Dryopteris oreades. Though similar in appearance to the ubiquitous Male-fern Dryopteris filix-mas that many of us see regularly, this species is far more particular about where it grows and favours upland slopes and boulder fields. It can be distinguished from its commoner relative by the underside of its fronds where the sori are confined to the lowest portion of the pinnule. If you spot distinctive clumps of ferns adorning a mountainside, it’s well worth taking a closer look.

As we meandered through the valley, it was hard not to be distracted by the trees. Though relatively sparse at Falcon Clints, the ones that do grow here are gnarled, twisted, and strikingly beautiful. Juniper Juniperus communis is easy to find, as are Aspen Populus tremula and Rowan Sorbus aucuparia. Perhaps more intriguing though are the birches and it is worth checking any with noticeably contorted trunks and branches for signs of the upland subspecies of Downy Birch, Betula pubescens subsp. tortuosa. We spotted one along the way though admittedly, we weren’t looking that hard.

While most of Falcon Clints is dry and exposed, there are pockets of deep shade — particularly beneath rocky overhangs. It was in these secluded spots that we searched for our next group of ferns, and before long we were rewarded with some healthy specimens of Green Spleenwort Asplenium viride, a species abundant in this part of the world but rather rare elsewhere. Growing alongside it were Brittle Bladder-fern Cystopteris fragilis and Maidenhair Spleenwort Asplenium trichomanes subsp. quadrivalens. The latter prompted a closer look just in case it turned out to be something rarer but alas, I think not. We also found a solitary Hard Shield-fern Polystichum aculeatum – a common species, yet the only one we encountered all day.

We paused for lunch and eventually decided to turn back roughly 1.5 miles into the valley, right at the point where the path disappears and you have to scramble over rocks to go any further (you’ll know it when you see it). During our break, we took the opportunity to explore a particularly diverse overhang that held more than a few interesting plants. Beneath some willows which we tentatively identified as Dark-leaved Willow Salix myrsinifolia, we found Bird’s-eye Primrose, Marsh Valerian Valeriana dioica, Butterwort Pinguicula vulgaris, and some fine examples of Northern Bedstraw Galium boreale, not yet in flower.

After that, all that remained was to head back the way we came, admittedly rather slowly so to spend as much time as possible in this incredible place. However, there were a few more discoveries to share…

At the start of this post, I mentioned that Falcon Clints is home to some incredibly rare and special ferns. One in particular stands out: Holly-fern Polystichum lonchitis.

This striking fern prefers well-drained, cool and moist conditions at the base of cliffs, typically in stabilised boulder scree. A poor competitor, it avoids densely vegetated areas and is considered vulnerable across much of its native range. It wasn’t a species I had seen before, so you can imagine my delight when, after scrambling up a particularly steep bank, we were rewarded with the specimen shown below. A real thrill, even if it did look a little weather-beaten.

I won’t share precise location details here, but the information is out there if you know where to look.

Allen Banks & Briarwood Banks

It had been a few years since I last visited my favourite ancient woodland sites at Allen Banks and Briarwood Banks — my most recent visit taking place during a student field trip in 2022. I’m not entirely sure why it’s taken me so long to return, but regardless, this week I was thrilled to get back into the swing of things leading a group of keen botanists from my ‘Botanist’s Year’ course on a walk along the River Allen, taking in the sights and sounds of these remarkable reserves.

Ancient woodland is a rare thing in Northumberland, especially in a truly diverse and undisturbed state. The River Allen catchment is one of the few places where it’s still possible not only to observe many of the characteristic plants of this special habitat, but to see them in abundance — a sight sorely lacking in my local patch around Newcastle. As we set out from the National Trust car park, it was immediately clear we were in for a treat: just about everything one hopes to find in such sites was flowering merrily.

Within moments of starting our walk, ancient woodland indicators began revealing themselves at a rapid pace. The first leg of the trip took us along the drier, upper slopes of the gorge, where we were treated to glorious patches of Wood Crane’s-bill Geranium sylvaticum alongside Goldilocks Buttercup Ranunculus auricomus — two species I encounter far too infrequently for my liking. Lower down, although the bluebells and wood anemones had finished flowering, Sanicle Sanicula europaea was in full bloom, and members of the group were quick to point out some lovely patches of Yellow Pimpernel Lysimachia nemorum.

One of the other curiosities during this leg of the trip was a mature variegated Sycamore Acer pseudoplatanus which may or may not be the cultivar Simon-Louis Freres. Presumably this was planted here by the Victorian custodians of the site but either way, it made for an impressive sight.

Continuing along the riverside path, our attention briefly turned to ferns, with sightings of most of the common species one might expect in a woodland like this: Hard Fern Blechnum spicant, Hard Shield-fern Polystichum aculeatum, Lady-fern Athyrium filix-femina, and others. Great Horsetail Equisetum telmateia was also noted, and several attractive woodland grasses gave us reason to pause. The most abundant was the delicate Wood Melick Melica uniflora, but we also recorded Hairy-brome Bromopsis ramosa, Giant Fescue Schedonorus giganteus, and perhaps most exciting of all, Wood Fescue Drymochloa sylvatica — a completely new plant for me, despite having unknowingly wandered past it for years. The Tyne catchment is one of the key strongholds for this rare woodland grass.

It wasn’t long, however, before our focus returned to flowers, with plenty of Bugle Ajuga reptans in bloom and Hybrid Avens Geum x intermedium growing alongside both of its parent species in a damp depression. Bitter-vetch Lathyrus linifolius and Wood Vetch Ervilia sylvatica were also observed, and a brief pause to key out specimens rewarded us with Intermediate Lady’s-mantle Alchemilla xanthochlora.

Another curiosity spotted on this leg of the trip was the attractive shrub shown below. Clearly a honeysuckle but which one? My money is on Fly Honeysuckle Lonicera xylosteum – likely an old introduction here.

Reaching the end of Allen Banks, we soon crossed the invisible boundary into the Northumberland Wildlife Trust’s reserve at Briarwood Banks. This is a fantastic site, carefully managed for a wide range of wildlife, including Hazel Dormice which are said to lurk in the undergrowth. Before venturing further, we stopped for lunch on a stunning patch of Calaminarian grassland, brimming with Mountain Pansies Viola lutea. As you can see, these little beauties come in a delightful range of colours, and personally, I’m especially fond of the less common yellow ones! This same area also held Common Bistort Bistorta officinalis on the riverbanks.

After lunch, it was time to begin our ascent up the banks, with Mel Rockett taking the lead, drawing on his extensive volunteering experience at the site. Our main target was Bird’s-nest Orchid which we had missed on the way in, but along the way we encountered a fine selection of species not seen earlier in the day, including Early-purple Orchid Orchis mascula and Common Cow-wheat Melampyrum pratense. Only when we reached the summit (and I’m not being melodramatic — the walk is genuinely steep at this point) did we finally find our quarry…

Thanks to Mel’s expert guidance, we finally caught up with Bird’s-nest Orchid Neottia nidus-avis. Two, to be exact, growing beneath a mature Beech Fagus sylvatica in a rocky patch of earth, far removed from the ‘rich humus’ they’re said to prefer in the textbooks. A quirky little plant, it may not be as striking as some of its orchid relatives, but it’s certainly fascinating: parasitic on the roots of its host tree and lacking the chlorophyll that gives most plants their green colour. These specimens weren’t fully open yet, but a few flowers had begun to reveal themselves.

While at Briarwood, we were also lucky enough to catch up with the rather delicate fern shown below. This is Oak Fern (Gymnocarpium dryopteris), a pretty uncommon species in our region, typically found in rocky, ancient woodlands. It was such a treat to see a thriving patch of it as we made our descent down the bank.

And that, folks, is a wrap. It’s always such a pleasure to get out and about with a group of keen botanists, especially when their local insight leads to unexpected encounters. A big thank you to Mel for taking the reins at Briarwood Banks.

Signs of Spring in the Tyne Valley

The snowdrops and crocuses that defined late winter’s botanical outings have now faded, and, as if by magic, a new wave of plants is rising to the fore in the local landscape. About time too—I, for one, needed shaking out of the winter doldrums…

Yesterday, Matt and I were lucky to have a rare coinciding day off, so we headed west up the Tyne Valley. Stopping at Watersmeet, Letah Wood, and Bywell, it was wonderful to see just how much the season had advanced since our last visit. Cue some much-needed spring colour!

The highlight of the day was discovering one of my all-time favourite plants—the Yellow Star-of-Bethlehem (Gagea lutea). This charming bulbous perennial boasts golden-yellow, star-like flowers that are sure to lift your spirits on a chilly March day. It thrives in woodlands with basic soils and, as its distribution map shows, is quite a localised species in the UK.

In the North East, it’s restricted to just a handful of high-quality sites. Watersmeet is one of them, and during our visit, we were thrilled to find a large population in full bloom.

Also at Watersmeet, it was lovely to see some of our more familiar woodland plants springing to life. Leading the way were our first Wood Anemone (Anemone nemorosa) and Moschatel (Adoxa moschatellina) flowers of the year. The latter’s genus name, Adoxa, reflects its inconspicuous nature and unassuming growth, while Moschatellina is derived from the Italian moscato, meaning musk.

Other interesting finds at Watersmeet included Opposite-leaved Golden Saxifrage, Monk’s-hood, Sanicle, Creeping Comfrey, and Leopard’s-bane. But before long, another pit stop beckoned…

Believed to be Northumberland’s last remaining Wild Daffodil wood, Letah Wood near Hexham is a breathtaking sight—if you time it right. Unfortunately, we were a little early, with most of the Wild Daffodils (Narcissus pseudonarcissus subsp. pseudonarcissus) just beginning to open. Still, in the sunnier clearings, we managed to find a few in bloom…

Wild Daffodil (*Narcissus pseudonarcissus subsp. pseudonarcissus)*

Daffodils can be tricky to tell apart, but our native variety is far more delicate than the hulking, luminescent specimens commonly planted in gardens. It’s a relatively small plant, with pale yellow tepals that are noticeably creamier in tone than its vibrant yellow ‘trumpet.’ These tepals usually tilt forward, as shown in the picture below. The true species also tends to have shorter stems and smaller flowers than the hybrids bred from it.

he final leg of our trip took us to Bywell, where the impressive carpets of Snowdrops and Winter Aconite had given way to a fresh wave of spring species. One of the most striking was Forbe’s Glory-of-the-snow (Scilla forbesii), which was widespread along the sandy riverbanks—perhaps having escaped from nearby churchyards. This species boasts distinctive two-toned flowers: blue on the outside with a white centre, and a petal tube that noticeably broadens from the flower stalk.

Forbe’s Glory-of-the-snow (*Scilla forbesii*)

Another Scilla species was also evident at Bywell—Siberian Squill (Scilla siberica). This one is a true gem, with vivid blue, nodding flowers. It tends to occur as a naturalised relic of cultivation, often found where it was originally introduced in churchyards, parks, and large gardens. It’s rather beautiful, I hope you’ll agree.

Frustrating Ferns at Hareshaw Linn

I must confess that although I have been botanising for some time now, ferns have proven a difficult group to master. Indeed, master is probably the wrong word as despite countless trips in search of the species found across North East England, I am still but a novice. Or perhaps an improver!

Despite the difficulties associated with telling many of them apart, August is a great month to look closer at ferns and last week, I decided it was high time I bit the bullet and factored them into the programme of ‘Botanists Year’ trips I am currently leading for the Natural History Society. Knowing the perfect place, with 10 botanists in toe, we decided on a visit to the pteridologist’s paradise that is Hareshaw Linn in Northumberland.

Starting out, a variety of common and widespread ferns were easy to find as we made our way into the wooded valley. Broad Buckler-fern (Dryopteris dilatata), Bracken (Pteridium aquilinum) and Male-fern (Dryopteris filix-mas) came first, followed by the distinctive Hard-fern (Blechnum spicant) and later, some rather nice stands of Polypody (Polypodium vulgare). Upon scrutiny when I returned home, these were confirmed to the be common sort.

In the initial stages of our walk at Hareshaw Linn, several other interesting plants were noted too including Wood Melick (Melica uniflora), Giant Fescue (Schedonorus giganteus) and a sizeable patch of Good-king-henry (Blitum bonus-henricus) but ferns soon rose to the fore once more with new additions in Lady-fern (Athyrium filix-femina), with it’s lovely j-shaped sori, and the first of the day’s scaly male-ferns. After a closer look, this was revealed to be Golden-scaled Male-fern (Dryopteris affinis) on account of the rounded, toothed lower pinnule.

In my experience, most of the scaly male-ferns I check near Newcastle turn out to be Borrer’s Male-fern (Dryopteris borreri) but this did not appear to be the case at Hareshaw. Indeed, checking dozens of ferns along the initial leg of our walk, almost all proved to be affinis. We did, however, find a nice example of Borrer’s Male-fern a little further into the Linn, spending some time ogling its distinctive, square pinnules.

This aside, other new ferns included Soft Shield-fern (Polystichum setiferum), likely a new colonist at this site, and Hard Shield-fern (Polystichum aculeatum) which provided a nice opportunity for comparison. Other notable plants included Wood Horsetail (Equisetum sylvaticum) and Marsh Hawk’s-beard (Crepis paludosa).

The first true highlights came after crossing a small bridge in a deeper part of the Linn where we encountered an entirely new species for me in Beech Fern (Phegopteris connectilis). A rather rare species in our area, this fern is much more numerous in parts of Scotland, Cumbria and Wales were it favours woodlands dominated by Oak. It proved to be quite the lovely little plant.

Pausing for lunch about midway into the wood, we were pleased to stumble across a bankside strewn with Oak Fern (Gymnocarpium dryopteris) – a species I see very infrequently in the North East. This proved ample compensation for failing to find even a single example of Lemon-scented Fern (Oreopteris limbosperma) which I know from past walks inhabits the site also. Keen to add a few more species to our swelling tally, from here it was a straight hike to the site’s famed waterfall where a few more species awaited.

Arriving at the waterfall, we were pleased to note several examples of Hart’s-tongue (Asplenium scolopendrium), a typically common fern that had proved conspicuously absent thus far during our trip. The real excitement here was to be found in the walls of the ravine however, where, alongside some nice examples of Brittle Bladder-fern (Cystopteris fragilis) the group found many examples of Lobed Maidenhair Spleenwort (Asplenium trichomanes subsp. pachyrachis) – this being the only place you can see this lovely little fern in all of Northumberland. The subspecies of Maidenhair Spleenwort differs from that we see in garden walls in having scalloped margins to the leaflets and grows mainly on limestone outcrops, typically where conditions are very humid.

Interestingly, I had also expected to find Green Spleenwort (Asplenium viride) on this outcrop also, having noted it on trips in 2020 and 2022. Hopefully it is still kicking about there somewhere…

More Beech Fern (*Phegopteris connectilis*)

I make that 15 fern species in just a few hours – not bad going at all. In reality, the total was 18 including Wall-rue (Asplenium ruta-muraria), Maidenhair Spleenwort (Asplenium trichomanes subsp. quadrivalens) and Black Spleenwort (Asplenium adiantum-nigrum) observed as we departed from Newcastle. All in all, the trip was a success and I would strongly recommend that anyone with a penchant for ferns pay Hareshaw Linn a visit. You will not leave disappointed.

Exciting Botanical Discoveries in and Around Newcastle

Now that I’m over halfway through recording (and writing) an ‘Urban Flora’ for Newcastle and North Tyneside, you would think the surprises would have dried up somewhat. However, that does not seem to be the case. Despite visits to all monads across the conurbation and over 950 species recorded, new and exciting plants are turning up still. Whether they are entirely new species — sometimes for the city, sometimes for the county—or simply rare or unusual plants in new places, there has been much to enjoy in recent weeks. Here are a few recent highlights…

Rustyback (Asplenium ceterach)

Rustyback (Asplenium ceterach) is a Rare Plant Register species in VC67, meaning it is rare enough to warrant mentioning to a County Recorder whenever it is seen. Within the urban flora area, there is just one site for this species—an alleyway in Chirton—so I hadn’t expected to encounter it anywhere else. Imagine my surprise, then, when I stumbled across the rather lovely specimen pictured below (again in an alley) in Brunswick a few months back. Rumour has it that this fern is increasing in our region, so it will be interesting to see if it appears at yet more sites.

Snow-white Wood-rush (Luzula nivea)

Just over a month ago, Matt and I said out to explore Fordley Planta, a weird little community nature reserve located near Annitsford on the edge of the survey area. This turned out to be an interesting trip with local residents having guerrilla-planted several oddities in the otherwise unassuming little woodland. Few of these had spread beyond their initial position but one which had was Snow-white Wood-Rush (Luzula nivea), a plant native to the Alps and Pyrenees, seemingly well at home in North East England. In an hour’s exploration, we found several clumps of this attractive little plant. Dare it say that I prefer it to our native Great Wood-rush?

Galium x pomeranicum

This one is a little overdue with so much Hedge Bedstraw and Lady’s-bedstraw kicking about in Newcastle. Still, on a recent Natural History Society trip to Newcastle City Centre, I was pleased to encounter a nice example of this floriferous hybrid growing atop waste ground with both of its parents. Since then, it has turned up along Scotswood Road too where both of its parents have been introduced via an amenity seed mix.

Japanese Honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica)

For a short while now, a rampant honeysuckle overtaking a section of riverside scrub at Willington Gut, Wallsend, has been giving me sleepless nights. Knowing it was something ‘different’ but failing to catch it in flower (or fruit!) for two years straight, a few weeks back, I returned for another look. Thankfully, I caught the plant in bloom on this occasion and was able to confirm it as Japanese Honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica). This is a fairly frequent escapee in other parts of the country but until now, had not been reported at all in VC67. With several rather large plants present, it looked firmly established.

Common Wintergreen (Pyrola minor)

Far from common, for a few years now the only known population of this lovely little plant within the city was to be found at Gosforth Nature Reserve – I hadn’t expected to encounter it anywhere else. You can imagine my surprise then when during a trip to enjoy the displays of Dune Helleborine (Epipactis dunensis) at Newburn Riverside, I almost knelt on a patch while admiring the orchids. Once the site of the former Newburn Steelworks, this particular stretch of riverbank has developed a rather rich scrub community, likely atop soils heavily polluted with trace metals. Much of the site is due to be developed in the near future but I hope that this (and the helleborines) may avoid the bulldozers due to their positioning on the edge of the area.

Reversed Clover (Trifolium resupinatum)

Now this is an odd one. While exploring the town of Dudley a few weeks back, I opted to for a walk along the margins of some nearby arable fields where, among other unusual species such as Rye Brome (Bromus secalinus) I stumbled across the curious clover shown below. With a bit of digging, this was revealed to be Reversed Clover (Trifolium resupinatum), a grain or bird seed alien of Asian origin. How it got here is a bit of mystery though speaking with other botanists, it is likely to be been a crop contaminant.

Egyptian Clover (Trifolium alexandrinum)

An even more unusual find at Dudley came in the form of Egyptian Clover (Trifolium alexandrinum). Now, I confess, I hadn’t even heard of this one but again it looks to occur as a seed contaminant. However it got there, this marked the first record for South Northumberland.

Autumn Gentian (Gentianella amarella)

Something native now and while pottering about the site of the former Brenkley Colliery site near Dinnington, I was surprised to encounter a single Autumn Gentian (Gentianella amarella) growing beside a long neglected haulage track. This wouldn’t have been too noteworthy out in rural Northumberland where this species is uncommon but rather widespread, but in the city, it is an entirely different story. To date, this is the only record within the Newcastle city limits.

Lesser Water-parsnip (Berula erecta)

This has to be one of the highlights of the survey so far and a genuine surprise while walking a stretch of the Seaton Burn in the north of the conurbation. Lesser Water-parsnip (Berula erecta) is a terribly rare plant in South Northumberland and at one stage, was presumed locally extinct when its last known population at Ponteland died out. The population at Seaton Burn, spread out over 50m or so, is therefore rather notable and marks the first confirmed sighting of this riparian plant in a few decades, at least. Jampacked with other interesting aquatics, this stretch of river may turn up further noteworthy finds stills and represents some of the best wetland habitat to be seen locally.

Lesser Swine-cress (Lepidium didymum)

Despite it’s status as an abundant weed of damp and disturbed places in southern parts of the UK, Lesser Swine-cress (Lepidium didymum) is perplexingly scarce in the North East. So much so that it is another species featuring on the Rare Plant Register for South Northumberland. Perhaps this is truly the case or perhaps it is simply overlooked as either way, I have recorded it from three new sites in just two months. Firstly, from a flowerbed Kingston Park and later, from an abandoned car park at Arthur’s Hill. The final sighting, pictured below, came from disturbed ground in Jesmond Old Cemetery. I suspect it will turn up at further sites still.

Lawn Lobelia (Pratia angulata)

Concluding with what may be the most unexpected find of all and a few weeks back, a walk through an unassuming housing estate in Killingworth came up trumps with a sighting of Lawn Lobelia (Pratia angulata) unsurprisingly, growing out of a garden lawn. A rather attractive little flower, this species is native to New Zealand and is highly localised across the UK. How it came to reach the lawn in question is anyone’ could’s guess but either way, this marked the first known occurrence of this species in the vice-county. I’ve said it before, there is always something new to find in the city…

A Botanical Tour of Holy Island

It will come as no surprise that Holy Island is one of my favourite places. A treasure trove for botanists, each trip to the island offers something new and several walks covering a variety of habitats, from shingle shores to vibrant dune slacks, ensure the experience is always fresh.

Last week, I was fortunate to spend two full days on Holy Island as part of a duo of botanical courses I am currently delivering for the Natural History Society of Northumbria. The goal being to share some of the island’s floral treasures with attendees. I believe this was a success with walks along the Snook, Chare Ends, and towards the quarry providing many interesting sightings.

Highlights from both trips are included below.

The Snook

The Snook is perhaps the most fascinating part of Holy Island, home to many of the elusive plants that make the island so special. Starting in the car park, a short wait for members of the group provided a nice opportunity to admire a range of saltmarsh plants. Most prominent were great drifts of Saltmarsh Rush (Juncus gerardii), but closer inspection revealed Sea Arrowgrass (Triglochin maritima), Purple Glasswort (Salicornia ramosissima), and Lesser Sea-spurry (Spergularia marina). Along the tideline, where saltmarsh vegetation meets dunes, we noted a nice combination of Spear-leaved Orache (Atriplex prostrata), Grass-leaved Orache (Atriplex littoralis), Frosted Orache (Atriplex laciniata), Sea-aster (Aster tripolium), Sea Rocket (Cakile maritima), and Sand Couch (Elymus junceiformis).

Setting off into the interior of the Snook, our first stop was the track leading to Snook House. Here, a small pond holds a nice mix of Grey Club-rush (Schoenoplectus tabernaemontani), Sea Club-rush (Bolboschoenus maritimus), and Marsh Pennywort (Hydrocotyle vulgaris). Members of the group also noted Lesser Spearwort (Ranunculus flammula) and plenty of Northern Marsh-orchid (Dactylorhiza purpurella), now well past their best. Black Bog-rush (Schoenus nigricans) is rampant here despite being a rather rare plant in VC68, and we spent time admiring the flowers of Seaside Centaury (Centaurium littorale), one of the day’s target species.

By Snook House, plenty of Pyramidal Orchids (Anacamptis pyramidalis) were observed alongside many species associated with drier habitats, most prominently Viper’s-bugloss (Echium vulgare) and Kidney-vetch (Anthyllis vulneraria).

Pyramidal Orchid (*Anacamptis pyramidalis*)

Making a beeline to a particular slack, we were delighted to find the day’s next target species, Lindisfarne Helleborine (Epipactis sancta), in full flower. This special plant, found only on Holy Island, is at the top of the list for most visiting botanists. In a short time, we noted eight flowering spikes, but I have no doubt that many more could have been found with thorough exploration.

Our next stops took us to several of the slacks that dot the Snook. The plentiful Marsh Helleborines (Epipactis palustris) were in full flower, and while most were past their best, we noted several other orchids, including Common Spotted-orchid (Dactylorhiza fuchsii), Early Marsh-orchid (Dactylorhiza incarnata), and the hybrid Dactylorhiza x venusta. Crouching down, we were also pleased to find several of the island’s less conspicuous plants, including Variegated Horsetail (Equisetum variegatum), Bog Pimpernel (Anagallis tenella), Bulbous Rush (Juncus bulbosus), Flea Sedge (Carex pulicaris), and Butterwort (Pinguicula vulgaris).

Other interesting plants spotted during our time at the Snook included Sand Sedge (Carex arenaria), growing in a characteristic straight line, Carnation Sedge (Carex panicea), Sea Milkwort (Glaux maritima), Fairy Flax (Linum catharticum), and Brookweed (Samolus valerandi ).

It is important to note that, like anywhere, the flora of the Snook changes with the seasons, and a visit early in the year can also be productive. Highlights from a visit back in May included Coralroot Orchid (Coraloriza trifida) and Purple Milk-vetch (Astragalus danicus), both shown below.

The Village

On our second visit to the island, our next stop was the island’s village, where nearby beaches, ruderal areas, and a Whin Sill outcrop provide points of interest. Even the village itself can reveal interesting plants, and during our stay, we were pleased to note Small Nettle (Urtica urens) and Dwarf Mallow (Malva neglecta) among a suite of more familiar species. The Common Poppies (Papaver rhoeas) were looking particularly lovely, as were drifts of Sea Mayweed (Tripleurospermum maritimum). The walls held an interesting mix of Mexican Fleabane (Erigeron karvinskianus) and several other neophytes.

Heading down to the beach near the island’s lifeboat station, we failed to find the Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger) mentioned in Chris and Hazel Metherell’s lovely book. No matter as other key species were easily located. First, Milk-thistle (Silybum marianum) growing at the foot of the vicar’s garden and later, Common Sea-lavender (Limonium vulgare) on St. Cuthbert’s Isle, its only outpost in Northumberland.

The Whin Sill held both Hare’s-foot Clover (Trifolium arvense) and Rough Clover (Trifolium scabrum), while the boatyard yielded Slender Thistle (Carduus tenuiflorus) and Tree Lupin (Lupinus arboreus).

Finally, in this relatively urban part of the island, we enjoyed observing Tree Mallow (Malva arborea) and Welted Thistle (Carduus crispus).

The Quarry Walk

The walk up the Straight Lonnen towards Lindisfarne’s quarry is extremely interesting, though admittedly so only in its latter stages. The Lonnen itself held very little of interest besides some odd patches of Marsh Woundwort (Stachys palustris)—good for Moss Carder Bees. Reaching the dune-line, however, things began to pick up with Hound’s-tongue (Cynoglossum officinale) noted in its usual spot by the fence. Here too, damp depressions held the first flowers of Grass-of-Parnassus (Parnassia palustris) and more Marsh Helleborine (Epipactis palustris). Autumn Gentian (Gentianella amarella) featured prominently as well, while other interesting titbits included Carline Thistle (Carlina vulgaris) and Common Twayblade (Neottia ovata).

Much more exciting was the discovery of a sizeable population of Frog Orchids (Dactylorhiza viridis) with some 25 spikes counted in total. These small, mud-brown orchids are not the most impressive of plants but are a real specialty of Holy Island and usually take quite a bit of finding among the sward. Later, we noted populations at two other points on our walk—they appear to be doing rather well.

Next came a detour in search of an even more cryptic plant, Smaller Adder’s-tongue (Ophioglossum azoricum). Following the instructions set out in the Plants of Holy Island, we were pleased to eventually find the ferns. I confess, this being a new plant for me, I was probably the most excited of all.

Chare Ends

Unusually for my regular jaunts around the island, both trips last week concluded with a wander through Chare Ends to the north of the village. While we missed them on the first day, the second trip came up trumps with Common Broomrape (Orobanche minor), another island specialty. Elsewhere, few new plants were noted, with the exception of the island’s only population of Field Scabious (Knautia arvensis).

So there you have it, highlights from yet more visits to Northumberland’s premier botanical hotspot!

Spring Delights In Upper Teesdale

Upper Teesdale is one of the UK’s premier botanical hotspots and a place to which I return regularly having experienced the area for the first time in 2020. The Teesdale Assemblage, a delightful mix of rare arctic-alpine and Southern plants, is a thing of beauty and makes for some of the best botanising in Britain. Much to my delight, the past fortnight has presented two opportunities to visit Teesdale, with two visits to Widdybank Fell and Cow Green, stopping briefly at Falcon Clints, and another shorter outing to Low Force and the Tees banks. A condensed round-up of what we encounter follows.

Early May

Stopping by Cow Green in early May, Matt and I had hoped to get our annual fix of everyone’s favourite alpine – Spring Gentian (Gentiana verna). I am pleased to report that we succeeded with hundreds of vivid blue marvels blooming along the nature trail from Cow Green to the nearby dam. Little needs to be said about these remarkable little plants so instead, I’ll let the photos do the talking. They are startlingly pretty!

Gentians aside, Widdybank Fell felt rather bleak early in the month, the sward at first glance punctuated only by dots of blue and flashes of lilac courtesy of the many Common Dog-violets (Viola riviniana) to be seen across the site. The prolific Mountain Pansies (Viola lutea) that adorn the site later in the month had yet to get going, though we did find a handful in sheltered spots. More interesting, however, were the less obvious plants. Glancing over the grassland, the blooms of Blue Moor-grass (Sesleria caerulea) were easy to make out and around a flush, we were pleased to spot several examples of Variegated Horsetail (Equisetum variegatum) – a curious little equisetum that I have only ever encountered here and on Lindisfarne in Northumberland. Definitely a plant of nice places…

Here too, we also noted a smart Common Lizard (Zootoca vivipara) and after a bit of searching, came up trumps with Rare Spring Sedge (Carex ericetorum). Nearby, a large colony of Bird’s-eye Primrose (Primula farinosa) provided a welcome dash of colour against the greys and greens of the fell. A special plant indeed.

Having had our fill of gentians and windswept moorland, we soon opted to head somewhere different. Deciding on a trip to Bowlees (via some rather nice scones) we soon set off for a walk up the Tees between Low Force and High Force. I am pleased we did as there was much to enjoy along the riverbanks. At Low Force itself, Early-purple Orchids (Orchis mascula) were in full bloom and the woodlands looked fantastic adorned with Bluebell (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) and other typical species. Somewhat more exciting were sightings of Bitter-vetch (Lathyrus linifolius) – not a species I see often at all marooned in urban Tyneside – and Tea-leaved Willow (Salix phylicifolia) growing along the banks. A little further upstream, a sizable patch of False Oxlip (Primula x polyantha) gave cause for pause and we spotted the first of the day’s Shrubby Cinquefoil (Dasiphora fruticosa) plants nestled among a crevice.

Further upstream, things began to pick up. First came some large patches of Globeflower (Trollius europaeus), another species characteristic of this special place, growing at the waterside and later, the early growth of Northern Bedstraw (Galium boreale). Growing beneath a mixed stand of Downy Birch (Betula pubescens) and the aforementioned willow, our attention was also drawn to a curious horsetail with a distinctly one-sided appearance. Remembering that this is a slightly unreliable feature of another rare plant, Shady Horsetail (Equisetum pratense), we decided on a closer look. I’m glad we did and sure enough, the ID was confirmed. Not exactly a standout plant but a nice one to see nonetheless.

Post horsetail, things quieted down a little but there were still interesting plants to be found (just about everyone at Teesdale is interesting if you look closer). Stone Bramble (Rubus saxatilis) came next, crawling across an area of riverside gravel, and it was nice to see more Shrubby Cinquefoil. Young examples of Juniper (Juniperus communis) were observed in the river banks and a few more Bird’s-eye Primrose enjoyed. As the rain began, we decided to head up knowing we would be back soon with some reinforcements in toe.

Late May

My word, what a difference a fortnight makes. Revisiting Upper Teesdale again last weekend, this time as part of the Botanist’s Year course I’m leading for the Natural History Society of Northumbria, Cow Green couldn’t have looked more different. The Spring Gentians had all but vanished besides a few tucked away on North-facing banks and even the Blue Moor grass had passed its best. Instead, what we saw was a different set of plants beginning to appear. Mountain Pansy and Bird’s-eye Primrose, both scarce on our previous visit, were now commonplace and it was nice to stumble across an intriguing white population of the former – not something I knew existed, I confess.

Besides these welcome flowers, other plants had begun to appear. I was beyond thrilled to encounter Moonwort (Botrychium lunaria) in two areas, having failed to find this inconspicuous little fern on several previous visits. In damper areas, Marsh Arrow-grass (Triglochin palustris) could be seen in flower and the rosettes of Butterwort (Pinguicula vulgaris) were clearly visible among a good cast of common sedge species and the leaves of Alpine Meadow-rue (Thalictrum alpinum).

In one of the fenced-off compounds, a single plant of Alpine Bistort (Bistorta vivipara) was noted in bloom and the first signs of Mountain Everlasting (Antennaria dioica) could be seen – I must remember to come back to see these later in the year. Otherwise, additional highlights here included Spring Sandwort (Sabulina verna) atop exposed patches of the sugar limestone and yet more Variegated Horsetail in soggy patches.

Concluding our time at Cow Green, the group opted for a short trip down to Falcon Clints. This wonderful gorge is about as rugged and beautiful as they come but isn’t for the faint-hearted. Indeed, even the ‘steps’ down from the fell are rather challenging. With little time on our hands, we did not have long to explore but in just a short while, encountered two of our target ferns: Parsley Fern (Cryptogramma crispa) and Green Spleenwort (Asplenium viride), both of which are rather common in rocky areas around Teesdale. The latter was tucked away on a ledge in the company of what looked like Lobed Mainhair-spleenwort (Asplenium trichomanes subsp. pachyrachis). Here too, it was nice to observe some cliff-dwelling Juniper (Juniperus communis) and Aspen (Populus tremula) shrubs and take stock of the more familiar fern species present including Hard Shield-fern (Polystichum aculeatum), Polypody (Polypodium vulgare) and Hard Fern (Blechnum spicant). A successful little detour and one I intend to make again later in the year.

All in all, the last few weeks have offered two fantastic opportunities to explore Teesdale’s special flora. With plenty more targets in mind, I’ll be back again very soon. In the meantime, here are just a few more photos from our second outing. Look out for more Teesdale updates soon!

Early Dog-violets in North Tyneside

A slightly different blog this week with a surprising local discovery and, happily, a tale of success.

Back in 2022 I visited Silverlink Park in North Tynside and was suprised to discover a small population of ‘curious’ violets growing on a former rail embankment amid a tangle of bramble scrub. A little paler in colour, they had the look of Early Dog-violet (Viola reichenbachiana), and after the record was submitted, were prompty confirmed as such confirming the rather odd occurence of this species in the heart of urban Tyneside.

For context, while common in parts of the south, Early Dog-violet is a rare plant in Northumberland. Known from just a handful of ancient oak woodlands in the south of the county, it features on the Rare Plant Register for South Northumberland and historically, isn’t one to crop up outside of its core range. With this in mind, the discovery of a small colony growing atop an unassuming patch of brownfield in the city gave much cause for excitement. Had they escaped a local garden? Had they been imported with soil when the site was restored? Who knows, but this unassuming green space does have a habit of throwing up curiosities from time to time.

Early Dog-violet (Viola reichenbachiana)

Fast forward to early 2024 and I am pleased to say that this small colony is expanding rapidly. On Saturday, I counted approximately 50 plants scattered over an area of around about 20m. More suprising still, however, was a report of an even larger colony discovered a few days prior by local naturalist, Joe Dobinson, at Rising Sun Country Park – just a few miles down the road from Silverlink. Again, these plants were observed growing in woodlands and scrub close to a busy footpath, but unlike the former population, there were hundreds, perhaps suggesting that they have gone unreported for some years or at the very least, the smaller Silverlink population was in fact an offshoot.

The occurence of this typically rural plant in the city – and the area covered by my current urban flora project – is definitely intriguing and if these sightings are anything to go by, it may expand further still. It would pay for local botanists to be on the look out in scrubby areas nearby, and perhaps the various urban woodlands that dot the area. What do you look for exactly?

Early Dog-violet is seperated from the very similar Common Dog-violet (Viola riviniana) by its spur shape and colour. In Common Dog-violet, the spur is curved upward and paler than the petals, in Early Dog-violet the spur is straight and noticably darker than the petals. The petals of Early Dog-violet are usually more erect but really, all you need to look at is that pesky spur.

If you spot this plant anywhere across Newcastle and North Tyneside, I’d love to hear from you.

On the trail of Northumbrian Snowdrops

It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of snowdrops. These delicate flowers, signaling the arrival of spring, have become an obsession of mine in recent years. So much so that I spend a lot of my free time exploring the Northumbrian countryside, looking for new varieties, and browsing the internet for more options to add to our tiny yarden – much to Matt’s annoyance!

Although February is winding down and the peak snowdrop season is almost over, there are still plenty to be found in different parts of my home county. In this week’s blog post, I’ll share some of the snowdrops I’ve spotted recently on jaunts around the county. Let’s start with a new discovery for me – a snowdrop I stumbled upon while walking through rough terrain in Monkseaton last week. With it’s pleated green leaves with a distinct glaucous central band, and after some research, it seems to be the Pleated Snowdrop (Galanthus plicatus), a species not often encountered in these parts, at least according maps held by the BSBI.

Also known as the Crimean Snowdrop, this species is indigeonous to Türkiye, Romania, and Crimea and is thought to have been brought to the UK by British soldiers fighting in the 1850s Crimean war. It is widely grown in gardens but far less common in a wild state than the plentiful Common Snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis).

Rural Churchyards

Churchyards are great places to find snowdrops, as they’re often planted in large numbers and left to spread naturally. Some of the best spots I know locally are in churchyards, and they often have surprises in store. After a meeting with our wedding venue a couple of weeks ago, Matt and I visited two such sites in quick succession, specifically to look for a local specialty: yellow snowdrops, also known as Galanthus nivalis ‘Sandersii Group’.

These yellow snowdrops occur naturally, though not abundantly, within populations of Common Snowdrop in parts of Northumberland. They’re named after James Sanders, who first identified them at Chillingham. While they’re not as common nowadays due to enthusiasts collecting them, they can still be found if you know where to look.

During our visit, we managed to find a few isolated patches of them, alongside plenty of the double-flowered variant of Common Snowdrops, Galanthus nivalis ‘Flore Pleno’. It was a successful trip!

Fast forward to last weekend, and once again, I found myself exploring another remarkable churchyard, this time as part of a course I’m leading for the Natural History Society of Northumbria. This site proved to be quite fascinating, yielding more of the exquisite Sandersii snowdrops along with two interesting snowdrop hybrids: Galanthus x hybridus, a cross between Pleated and Giant Snowdrops (Galanthus elwesii), and Galanthus x valentini, a hybrid of Common and Pleated Snowdrops.

Interestingly, despite our thorough search, we completely failed to find any pure Pleated Snowdrops in the entire cemetery. It left us pondering whether they had bred out of existence in this particular location. Nonetheless, we were treated to large patches of pure Greater Snowdrops, characterised by their broad, glaucous leaves and the variable green markings on their flowers.

Howick Hall Gardens

Howick Hall Gardens has become a go-to destination for my Sunday strolls. With its expansive grounds and rich history, it’s especially charming during “snowdrop season.” The dedicated Snowdrop Trail they offer is definitely worth checking out.

While the gardens may not feature a wide variety of snowdrop species, the sheer number of Common Snowdrops blanketing the woodland is quite remarkable. There are millions of them scattered throughout, creating a breath-taking sight.

Of course, it wasn’t just snowdrops in flower at Howick and fabulous scones aside, we also enjoyed the sight of several crocus species, well naturalised at this point, our first Buff-tailed Bumblebee (Bombus terrestris) of the year and even

And there we have it, a hopefully not too tedious account of a wonderful few weeks spent hunting for these endearing little flowers. To finish on a high, I should say that another snowdrop species, the Green Snowdrop (Galanthus woronowii) is once again flowering in a handful of wilder spaces close to home in Newcastle. A favourite of mine, I am ashamed to admit that I completely forgot to take photos. Instead, you’ll need to make do with this one from 2022.

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Dryopteris lacunosa at Blaydon

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Rustyback (Asplenium ceterach)

Snow-white Wood-rush (Luzula nivea)

Galium x pomeranicum

Japanese Honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica)

Common Wintergreen (Pyrola minor)

Reversed Clover (Trifolium resupinatum)

Egyptian Clover (Trifolium alexandrinum)

Autumn Gentian (Gentianella amarella)

Lesser Water-parsnip (Berula erecta)

Lesser Swine-cress (Lepidium didymum)

Lawn Lobelia (Pratia angulata)

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The Snook

The Village

The Quarry Walk

Chare Ends

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Early May

Late May

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Rural Churchyards

Howick Hall Gardens

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