Exploring North East Nature in 2022 – A Few Highlights

A summary of a fantastic year spent watching, recording, and enjoying North East nature. often in great company.

Well, I had thought that 2022 had been a quiet year on the wildlife front but apparently not, and as ever when it comes to writing these festive round-ups, I again have far too much to discuss. Do bear with me.

Before we get going, however, a huge thank you to the friends who have helped make 2022 such an awesome year for wildlife. If you have shared a tip, nugget of wisdom, or location, or have spent an afternoon rummaging around in shrubbery with me, this means you! Nature definitely is better when experienced together.

Orchids Galore

Now, I usually make a point of seeking out orchids each year, but in 2022, they have taken on a special focus. With the launch of NHSN’s Discovering Orchids project, there was plenty of recording to be done across the North East. This meant lots of visits to the far-flung corners of our region in search of some truly beautiful plants. Indeed, I think I encountered more orchids this year than ever before, including several new species.

From Bird’s-nest Orchids at Allen Banks to fantastic floral displays on Lindisfarne, there was an awful lot to see in 2022. Better still, some of these sightings and those of dozens of other botanists have now been published in Orchids of North East England, available now from NHSN. It was certainly a pleasure to contribute to such a fantastic publication.

Urban Botanising

For this city botanist, urban plans have been a real theme of 2022. Just as they are in most years really – I think I may have a problem.

What has been slightly different in 2022 has been the focus on more detailed recording. Back in October, I decided to start work on what I am loosely calling an “Urban Flora of Newcastle”. So far, this has seen 70+ hours spent in the field, 20 tetrads visited and some 2500 records collected of 530 species (and a few hybrids too). A mind-boggling total given the time of year and the relatively low number of squares visited.

I plan to continue work on the flora for the next few years, hopefully writing it up in due course. The diversity of plants in the city never fails to surprise and truth be told, I am finding the whole thing thoroughly addictive.

Ladybird Discoveries

I think that by now, just about everyone knows that I love ladybirds. Searching for them is a little like fishing in that you never quite know what you’re going to encounter.

This year has seen too many exciting discoveries and notable observations to count. So much so that ladybirds have been given a round-up all of their own. You can read it here.

Now that I have the pleasure of volunteering with the UK Ladybird Survey, I’ll certainly be sticking with the spotty blighters for years to come.

Noteworthy Plants

As a botanist, the vast majority of my free time is spent looking for plants. This year has been no different and with countless hours spent rummaging a variety of wild and urban areas, there have been a couple of good finds. Two that spring to mind are county firsts in Pale St. John’s-wort (Hypericum montanum) and Sorbus latifolia. The latter came as quite a surprise during a casual wander along the Tyne back in Summer.

Elsewhere in the North East, Forked Catch-fly (Silene dichotoma) was an exciting find at Gosforth Nature Reserve, as was Scots Lovage (Ligusticum scoticum) on Lindisfarne. Trips elsewhere have seen a whole manner of exciting discoveries too at places such as Hareshaw Linn, Alnmouth, and Berwick. Really, it has been a good year for botanising. Hopefully, there’ll be lots more to come in 2023.

Dabbling in Bugs

Do any other naturalists out there find they only have a finite amount of brain space for tackling new taxonomic groups? I certainly do! This year, I wanted to change things up a little and begin recording beyond my usual plants and familiar insects. Bugs seemed like an obvious place to start and I am pleased to say that I have encountered my fair share. Aphids have been fun to tackle this year and getting my eye in, I have seen a fabulous array of shieldbugs too. Not least the lovely blue chap pictured below. Add to these a variety of mirids and this new addition to my local biological recording has been most enjoyable if a tad hard to come to terms with!

Awards and New Opportunities

Anyone who knows me will know that it came as quite a surprise to win the National Biodiversity Network ‘Newcomer Award’ back in November. Not least because I am unsure of what exactly I have done to deserve it! That said, I am so immensely grateful to NBN for the lovely confidence boost and of course, the nifty profile page here. It really does mean a lot to be recognised for something I have loved since childhood.

This year, I also became an iRecord verifier for the UK Ladybird Survey covering Durham and Northumberland and began helping botanical VCRs in South Northumberland with verification too. Who needs free time, eh? It has certainly been nice to live vicariously through the sightings of others.

A New Local Botany Group

Oh look, a bunch of happy, smiling botanists!

Pondering the local botanical scene back in October, I came to the conclusion that a new group was needed. One with a focus on both supporting one another and on recording too. Sending out a few feelers, I was thrilled with the turnout with some twenty-eight people coming forward to be involved from all corners of the local area.

Fast forward a few months and several of us have enjoyed a few nice local walks at Walker and Tynemouth. 2023 will surely bring new opportunities and it will be great to get some serious recording done as our small and informal group grows and visits new places.

If anyone would like to join in, do get in touch. More the merrier!

Magic moments

Not everything needs to be about serious biological recording – even if it may seem that way on this blog from time to time. Sometimes it is nice to simply sit back and soak in the joys of the natural world. Thankfully, 2022 provided limitless opportunities to do just that and whether we’re talking seabirds on the Farne Islands or orchids in the depths of County Durham, wonderful experiences have abounded this year.

Oddly, of all the great things seen and heard, it is a butterfly that sticks with me the most. The exquisite Green Hairstreak (Callophrys rubi) shown below landed beside me during a trip to Rothbury back in Spring. A species I have seen only a handful of times, it was superb to spend a good while in its company and I was certainly left with a smile when it departed.

Looking ahead to 2023

While free time seems to grow ever scarcer with each passing year, there are several things I’d like to try (or at least resume) in 2023. In a time-honored tradition on this blog, I’ll be making a few New Year’s resolutions centered on wildlife, recording, and other aspects of natural history. It will be interesting to see how many I can live up to.

  • A big year of botany: working with fellow BSBI recorders, I hope to start work on a new Rare Plant Register for North Northumberland. Equally, I’ll also be trying to organise as many local outings as possible for botanists, beginners and experts alike to meet and share their knowledge. Watch this space.
  • Beginner’s botany: the response to my new series of beginner’s botanical cribs has been amazing. A big thank you to everyone who has taken a look so far. In 2023, I hope to create many more of these to share with budding botanists and hope possibly to record some as videos too.
  • Recording urban flora: true to form, I’ll be spending an increasing amount of time surveying Newcastle’s plant life with the aim of having visited all tetrads twice by December 2023. Hold me to the coals on this one!
  • Getting back into the swing of things: in 2023, I’ll aim to make more of an effort to share finds, discoveries, and interesting titbits online, something that has slipped in recent years. I’ll also be launching a Facebook page to help with this and dare I say it, a YouTube channel too. Hopefully, by doing so, at least one new person might be inspired to look closer at North East nature.

Where to watch wildlife in the North East: Silverlink Biodiversity Park

In a new series of articles, we’ll be taking a look at the best places to watch wildlife in  North East England.

By no means comprehensive but hopefully informative, these posts are intended to provide inspiration on where to visit in the North East to observe and enjoy nature, as well as detailing some of the wildlife you can expect to enjoy at these sites.

Based on the reports and sightings of North East naturalists and personal experience, I hope these posts might provide inspiration when choosing the destination of your next wild walk in the region.


Silverlink Biodiversity Park

A hidden gem in the heart of urban Tyneside, Silverlink Biodiversity Park is a fantastic spot at which to enjoy nature in the North East. Created in 1996 on the site of a former rubbish tip, the site was declared a local nature reserve in 2006.

Boasting a diverse array of habitats condensed into a small area of only 18 hectares, Silverlink supports woodland, hedgerow, wetland and grassland habitats. The latter of which being particularly worthy of a visit during the summer months due to an excess of invertebrates and vibrant plant life.

Invertebrates

One of the defining features of this urban oasis is its invertebrate community. The grassland areas here are particularly diverse and, in summer, hold a notable population of Dingy Skipper butterflies. Other butterflies to be seen here include good numbers of Common Blue, Ringlet, Meadow Brown and Large Skipper; while Comma, Small Tortoiseshell, Red Admiral and the three more abundant ‘whites’ are all represented.

On warmer days in June and July, day-flying moths can be very abundant including a thriving colony of Six-spot and Narrow-bordered Five Spot Burnets – the larval casings of which can often be spotted perched atop grass stems throughout the meadow area. Other species seen include Latticed Heath, Mother Shipton and Silver Y.

Silverlink Biodiversity Park is notable locally for Odonata and dragonflies and damselflies on-site include Common Darter, Southern Hawker, Broad-bodied Chaser, Large Red, Common Blue and Azure Damselfly. A Lesser Emperor, marking only the second-ever county record, was found at the site in 2019.

The lesser recorded insect groups at Silverlink Biodiversity are equally worthy of attention. Of these, hoverflies are conspicuous and recent trips have revealed species such as Cheilosia illustrata, Scaeva pyrastri and plenty of the eye-catching and abundant Heliophilus pendulus.

Plant life

Botany at Silverlink Biodiversity Park is a real pleasure. For many, it is the sites Bee Orchids that hold the greatest appeal and in good years, many of these beautiful flowers can be seen throughout the sites grassland areas. In damp spots, Northern Marsh Orchid can also be found; while Common Spotted Orchid may appear anywhere across the site.

The grasslands of Silverlink are particularly interesting during high summer when species such as Viper’s Bugloss, Common Bird’s-foot Trefoil, Kidney Vetch and Common Knapweed are in full bloom. There is also a nice area of Quaking Grass, Zigzag Clover and pockets of the quirky-looking Bladder Campion.

Damper, more verdant areas of the site hold small areas of Ragged Robin, Bittersweet, Marsh Thistle and Water Mint, with species such as Water Figwort popping up occasionally and an expansive area of prehistoric-looking Butterbur also present.

Given its urban location, it is also not unusual to find adventive, non-native species at Silverlink and this year alone, I have encountered Oriental Poppy, Globe Thistle and two unusual forms of ornamental Crane’s-bill.

Birdlife

Silverlink is not particularly notable for birdlife but the site still does hold a good range of species. Typical woodland species such as Great Spotted Woodpecker, Bullfinch, Nuthatch, Treecreeper and Jay can be seen; while Sparrowhawk, Buzzard and Kestrel can be observed on site. Lucky visitors may also spot Long-eared Owl.

The small pools present on-site hold breeding Coot, Moorhen and Mallard and occasionally host Tufted Duck, Grey Heron and Gadwall. Only once have I heard Water Rail on-site; though with some relatively large sections of riparian vegetation, it is likely they can be seen year-round.

These small ponds demonstrated their potential to pull in interesting birdlife in 2017 when a stunning drake Ferruginous Duck was found on site. More on that here.

Ferruginous Duck (Aythya nyroca) at Silverlink Biodiversity Park

Mammals

A nice array of mammals can be seen at Silverlink, including Roe Deer, Hedgehog and Red Fox. The small pockets of woodland hold Grey Squirrel; while small mammals seen here include Common Shrew, Wood Mouse and Bank Vole. Rabbits are less plentiful than they once were but remain, and visitors may encounter Weasel and Stoat across the site.

The Pound Wood ‘Fritillary Site’ – a place for butterflies and a great deal more, by Ross Gardner

The Essex Wildlife Trust’s Pound Wood, like so many ancient woods, is a special place and for different reasons.  It is special for being somewhere for the people of this busy and built-up part of Essex to establish, or indeed re-establish those close and valuable connections with the natural world, something so important, not only for the well-being of ourselves but crucially for raising the awareness of the need to look after the wild places that we are fortunate enough to still have near us, as well as those further afield.  It is special for being an important link in a Living Landscape, alongside the other woods and green spaces in the neighbourhood; for reminding us that nature conservation today has to extend beyond the boundaries of established nature reserves to meet the fresh challenges that our wildlife face.  And it is special because it is an ancient wood, which over the centuries of continuous existence has accumulated a diverse assemblage of wild plants and animals; no other habitat in our country has a greater diversity of species.

Special places will invariably have special things living within them.  Here, it will often be the heath fritillary (Melitaea athalia) that first comes to mind, one of Britain’s rarest butterflies which has been present in Pound Wood since its reintroduction in 1998.  They were released into the part of the reserve where power-lines cross its north-western corner.  Since this stretch of the wood has always needed regular cutting to prevent the fouling of the cables, it presented itself as the ideal reintroduction site for these butterflies of open woodland.  The more frequent cutting benefits not only the electricity company, but also provides the open conditions necessary for the butterflies and their foodplant (common cow-wheat – Melampyrum pratense) to thrive.  It is a part of the wood now colloquially referred to as the ‘Fritillary Site’ and while most of it lies off the beaten track, some of the reserve’s paths either cross or run close by it offering visitors every chance of seeing these so very scarce butterflies.

What has been created though, is far more than a prime habitat for a single species.  What can, in fact, be found, running the length of the pylon corridor, is the most species-rich part of the whole reserve.  A vibrant and hugely important component of the wider wildlife value of the wood, even before we consider its rare butterflies.  The list of species associated with it is long and varied, many of which have not been recorded elsewhere in the reserve.  It is a list that includes a number of uncommon insects.  Some of those tiny micro-moths that fizz sprite-like about the low plants and leafy path-sides are in reality as colourfully and beautifully marked as the butterflies that more readily draw our attention.  One such is Dasycera olivella, a creamy yellow and iridescent purple marked little beauty found only rather sparingly among the broadleaved woods of southern England.  They are known to be fond of recently coppiced areas and, once you have your eye in, are a common early summer sight beneath the power-lines, where almost all of the Pound Wood observations have been made.

Dasycera oliviella © Ross Gardner

It is within this part of the reserve, and unlike those areas incorporated into the usual 21-year coppicing cycle that will inevitably and necessarily shade over as the stools regenerate, that grassier plant communities are able to persist.  Such habitat suits two nationally scarce bush-crickets, long-winged conehead (Conocephalus discolor) and Roesel’s bush-cricket (Metrioptera roeselii).  The sole records in the reserve for such species as green hairstreak (Callophrys rubi), horned treehopper (Centrotus cornutus) and tortoise shieldbug (Eurygaster testudinaria) have all come from the Fritillary Site.  Perhaps the broom that thrives here will come to support a future population of the aforementioned, locally scarce butterfly

But it is not just the rare things that can make an area special, it is the community of plants and animals as a whole.  Spring and summer sees more than the creamy, tubular flowers of the cow-wheat adding colour among the heady-scented sweet vernal grass, but other coppicing plants, like slender St John’s-wort (Hypericum pulchrum) and wood spurge (Euphorbia amygdaloides).  Where ditches run across the clearings marsh bedstraw (Galium palustre) proliferates and lesser spearwort (Ranunculus flammula) thrives, while a marshy area grows thick with willowherb and rush.  Stands of spear thistle (Cirsium vulgare) tower over most, but far from being a nuisance they provide abundant nectar for a host of hoverflies and bumblebees.   Milkwort (Polygala serpyllifolia), hemp-nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit), field woodrush (Luzula campestris) and pale sedge (Carex pallescens) all find their only Pound Wood locations here.

This is somewhere that the creatures of the woods and its edge habitats can live cheek by jowl with those of the grasslands.  The flourishing colony of small skipper (Thymelicus sylvestris) might well brush wings with the occasional white admiral (Limenitis camilla) the latter is a magnificent black and white butterfly, declining nationally, but apparently spreading in Essex – they reappeared in the wood in 2018), while brown argus (Aricia agestis) were noted in the reserve for the first time in 2019, around the same time that a silver-washed fritillary (Argynnis phaphia) was very possibly the first one seen here for many decades.

The list really could go on.  The likes of the groundhoppers and grasshoppers, mirid bugs and beetles, spiders and solitary wasps haven’t even been given a mention.  There is the impressive and lengthily titled golden-bloomed grey longhorn beetle (Agapanthia villosoviridescens), for instance, an uncommon species whose larvae, unlike many of its timber feeding relatives, develop in the hollow stems of umbellifers and thistles.    And of course, where there is prey there are predators.  The reserve’s small bird and dragonfly populations can and do find rich pickings here.

Golden-bloomed Grey Longhorn Beetle © Ross Gardner

A Walk on the North Downs Way, by Frances Jones

A couple of weeks ago, I walked part of the North Downs Way with a friend. Not a particularly unusual event, normally, but many of us have had rapidly to adjust our expectations of normal over the past months. I had wandered through the fields around my home almost every day since lockdown, charting Spring through the greening hedgerows, the emergence of butterflies, and the increasing birdsong. The hills were calling, though, and I was looking forward to sharing a walk.

We had chosen the meeting point and decided on a direction, but other than that had no plans other than to walk, talk and enjoy the glorious weather. We set off through Denbies Vineyard where the young vines were starting to climb and coil around the wireframes. Following the North Downs Way westwards, we climbed up through beech woods, past a small flock of sheep in a fenced off-field, and past Ranmore Common church, a sacred slice of Gothic Revival architecture appearing rather incongruous amongst the trees. The ground was parched from lack of rain, and there were deep ruts from where a vehicle had made a manoeuvre. We looked out across the valley and the tree-lined horizon with Leith Hill Tower ahead. Crowds were beginning to trickle in from the hill-top car-park, and I felt the need to press on, to discover, to step away from the every day and become an intrepid explorer. We welcomed the shade as the North Downs Way led us through a gate and into an arboreal tunnel where the temperature, though still pleasant, dropped slightly and the sound of people’s voices was replaced with birdsong. A speckled wood fluttered towards us and hurried past, seeking the sunlight, perhaps, in a woodland glade.

The path followed the contour of the hillside and was fairly level, with just the odd tree root to cause us to be mindful of our step. We passed an old WW2 bunker, a concrete cube with a small narrow entrance leading into its dark depths. We didn’t venture in, looking out instead at the views, which could be glimpsed only intermittently through the trees. Now and then, the track opened out onto grassy areas where, amongst prickly stems of field-rose,  common spotted orchids grew in delicate splendour. When my stomach began to make rumbling noises, we trod carefully over the bank in search of a lunch stop, trying to avoid plonking ourselves on a bramble or, worse still, an orchid. I munched a sandwich and mentally paused; looking into the green woodland of young oaks was deeply calming.

It was around this point that we made an error of navigation, for sometime after lunch we noticed the terrain becoming unfamiliar. At the start, I’d intended to walk some distance along the North Downs Way, then turn right and amble back through the woodland alongside Ranmore Common Road, and back down the hill to the vineyard. Neither of us recognised the scenery now and when we climbed through a meadow to read the sign at the top, it confirmed we weren’t exactly where we’d thought: Blatchford Down. On the North Downs Way, but rather further along than I’d anticipated. There was quite a walk back, but the weather was glorious, the views equally so, and we had water. We tramped through the woods once more until we reached the gate where the trees ended and the grassy down began. Passing through the gate I felt rather as I imagined Lucy to feel on stepping back into real life after her trip to Narnia: the sun was still high in the sky, picnickers were still out on the hill-side, and children with ice-creams were trailing parents up the slope. We walked down into the vineyard and back to the cars. It had been a glorious walk and freedom was slowing opening up. I resolved one day to trek the whole route from Farnham to the sea. But I would need to use the map, this time.

 

Investigating the Prudhoe Spetchells

For a long time, I have read with envy the blog posts of others who have visited the Prudhoe Spetchells yet, shamefully, have never found the time to visit myself; though this all changed a fortnight past.

The Spetchells are an interesting site in a great many regards. Created as a by-product of factory work during World War two, they represent the only example of a chalk dominated habitat in Northumberland. The deposited chalk and the imposing mound created decades ago forging a locally unique habitat home to a very interesting community of plants and invertebrates.

Starting out and taking the short track uphill towards to top of the mound, we quickly found ourselves stopped dead in our tracks – bees! And a great many of them. Honestly, I don’t think I can recall a time when I have witnessed so many bees in one spot at the same time. The sight of countless insects on the ground, in the air, and adorning low-growing vegetation was truly impressive.

Looking closer, the vast majority of the bees on the show turned out to be Buffish Mining Bee – the Spetchells is, after all, renowned as a location at which to observe and enjoy this species. We estimate that we saw maybe four to five hundred of these bees during our visit; though I have been informed that earlier in the season, visitors can expect to see many thousands.

Buffish Mining Bees (Andrena nigroaenea)

Less numerous than the Buffish Mining Bees and easy to pick out from the swarm were a number of Ashy Mining Bee – a new species for me and perhaps one of Britain’s most eye-catching solitary bee species. The monochrome appearance of this species is rather endearing, and definitely eye-catching.

After a few fleeting glances, we were lucky enough to catch sight of a female excavating a fresh burrow while nearby, another watched us intently from the entrance to a nest hole. A few smaller, less striking males were also observed.

Ashy Mining Bee (Andrena cineraria) are somewhat harder to find on the Prudhoe Spetchells

Of course, where there are solitary bees, there will inevitably be nest parasites, and throughout the afternoon, we enjoyed the sight of many Nomada cuckoo bees inspecting burrows with sinister intent. These are a confusing bunch and of the handful of species present, only one was identifiable to our amateur eyes: Gooden’s Nomad Bee. Still, these colourful bees made for enjoyable viewing as they carefully inspected the many visible burrows, occasionally being forced to beat a hasty retreat having encountered the burrow owner mid-way down.

Elsewhere, whilst photographing bees of the buffish variety, Matt emerged with some grainy images of a new bee – one I definitely hadn’t seen before. Thankfully, local naturalist Louise Hislop was quick to identify this as Hawthorn Mining Bee.

Hawthorn Mining Bee (Andrena chrysosceles) and Gooden’s Nomad Bee (Nomada goodeniana)


The Spetchells is a notable site for more than just bees and the floral community here is also rather unique. I confess, we did not spend half as much time as we should have to look at wildflowers but what we did see was most interesting.

At ground level, the fragrant leaves of Oregano were very obvious and definitely worthy of a ‘scrunch and sniff’. Slightly more eye-catching were the dropping, pink blooms of Columbine and dainty purple flowers of Wild Pansy. The many buttercups just starting to bloom here turned out to be Bulbous Buttercup; while Wild Mignonette and Bird’s-foot Trefoil were just starting to flower. One of the site’s most damaging invasive species, Creeping Cotoneaster, was extremely obvious; though it appeared that the dedicated volunteers who tend the site had managed to beat the invader back to a few albeit sizeable patches.

Columbine (Aquilegia vulgaris), Bulbous Buttercup (Ranunculus bulbosus), Oregano (Origanum vulgare) and Wild Pansy (Viola tricolor)

The presence of the aforementioned Bird’s-foot Trefoil at the site led to a most welcome encounter with a Dingy Skipper butterfly, as ever too quick for a decent photograph. A handful more of these dull yet charming sprites were observed on the return journey too. Ever welcome – they remain a relatively uncommon sight in my area.

Dingy Skipper (Erynnis tages), a common sight on the Prudhoe Spetchells

Ultimately, the Spetchells is a site that warrants much further investigation. Unique and beautiful, this is a truly wonderful location and one of South Northumberland’s hidden gems. I thoroughly enjoyed my first visit and can’t thank enough the members of the local community who keep this fabulous site safe, secure, and in tip-top shape for wildlife.

Into the Wild Woods at Allen Banks

Spurred on by the gradual easing of lockdown restrictions in England, this weekend past saw us venture forty-five minutes inland to the wild reaches of Allen Banks. An ancient woodland site situated on the banks of the River Allen and maintained by the National Trust.

Now, I visit Allen Banks at least once every year to make the most of the aged woodland setting and enjoy the species that come hand-in-hand with such places. This visit, however, felt extra special following months couped up at home with only short, urban walks from which to derive enjoyment. After a few minutes of gazing upwards at the canopy of old oak, ash and towering beech trees, it was clear I had made the right decision.

Allen Banks is a fantastic location at which to enjoy a suite of scarce Northumbrian birds and, sure enough, upon entering the wood, the song of a Pied Flycatcher drifted down from the canopy of a, particularly tall beech. One of four heard during the course of the day. Elsewhere, a Sparrowhawk rode the thermals above the river and riparian species – Dipper and Grey Wagtail – held our attention for some time.

Rather unusually, birds were not the purpose of the day’s visit, however, and we soon set off uphill intent on some botanising around Morralee Tarn. On route, we were pleased to note a single Early Purple Orchid blooming amid a rather desolate patch of brash. A new species for me and one which stood out like a sore thumb, the purple flower spike contrasting sharply with the browns and greys of the fallen timber.

Early Purple Orchid (Orchis mascula)

At the tarn, we noted another new species for this [very] amateur botanist: Opposite-leaved Golden Saxifrage, a rather lovely, moisture-loving plant characteristic of stream-sides and damp places in upland Northumberland. Other plant species observed here included Wood Ruff, Mare ‘s-tail, Marsh Marigold, Marsh Cinquefoil and introduced White Water Lily. I confess I was unable to identify the small Stitchwort species growing around the pool margins; though a patch of Wild Strawberry in bloom was less tricky.

On the tarn-side vegetation, Large Red Damselflies rested, freshly emerged and looking rather radiant; while the shallows held the tadpoles of Common Toad and what was likely a Palmate Newt.

Opposite-leaved Golden Saxifrage (Chrysosplenium oppositifolium), Wild Strawberry (Fragaria vesca) and Large Red Damselfly (Pyrrhosoma nymphula)

Heading downhill this time and west along the river, the diversity of ferns on show in the lower reaches of the wood was impressive. Hart’s-tongue and Polypody were identifiable though the rest, not so much. As such, we made do with appreciating the somewhat primordial sight before dashing off in search of something a little more colourful.

Upstream, we spent a good hour combing the tussocky grassland of a riverside meadow having been stopped dead in our tracks by a sprawling patch of delicate Mountain Pansy – more on these later. Here, the queer-looking flowers of Crosswort were obvious, as were plenty of English Bluebells; though more interesting were the sunny, yellow flowers of Yellow Pimpernel. A low-growing plant with a Northumberland distribution limited [in the most part] to inland sites such as this.

Yellow Pimpernel (Lysimachia nemorum), Mountain Pansy (Viola lutea), Bluebell (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) and Crosswort (Cruciata laevipes)

With plenty of wildflowers in bloom, there were a great many invertebrates to admire here too. The best of which, a rather large and colourful sawfly apprehended for closer inspection. Advice from the knowledgable folk on Twitter would suggest this is Tenthredo maculata, a rather impressive, if intimidating looking beastie and a species with few records in the North East.

Other insects observed were Gipsy Cuckoo Bee, Orange-tip, Green Long-horn and the unusual, outlandishly hairy fly shown below. After some excited Googling, I suspect this is Tachina ursina.

A Sawfly (Tenthredo maculata) and a fly (Tachina ursina)

Crossing the river further upstream and doubling back towards the car park, we were surprised to stumble upon a glade chock-full of purple blooms. Mountain Pansies, yet again, blooming en masse right across the clearing. Closer inspection of these beautiful little flowers revealed an impressive mix of colour forms: deep purple, violet and yellow.

Further reading on this eye-catching viola seems to suggest that they grow and proliferate so well here due to the presence of heavy metals in the soil – a relic of the [thankfully] long-gone days of lead mining in the county.

Mountain Pansies (Viola lutea)

Setting off towards the car, it was wonderful to see another, a far larger swath of Early Purple Orchid blooming on a south-facing bankside. These, alongside the countless flowers of Ramsons, Wood Speedwell, Dog Violet, Wood Ruff and Red Campion painting the woodland a vibrant mix of colours. A stark reminder of what could and should be in woodlands across Northumberland.

Another new species on walk home came in the form of a dense clump of Wood Crane’s-bill; while Barren Strawberry was also noted and it proved impossible not to pause briefly to admire the deep-blue spikers of Bugle protruding from the riverside grasses.

On the hunt for urban bees

For me, one of the few positive aspects of our current lockdown has been the opportunity to look closer at the wildlife that persists close to home. Doing so has been eye-opening, to say the least, and while of course, I would rather have been venturing into the wider countryside, the diversity of life here has both surprised and delighted me.

One of the most obvious species groups on our street of late has been the bees. Spurred on by the North East Bee Hunt, an ongoing citizen science scheme led by the Natural History Society of Northumbria, I have been paying an increasing amount of attention to these vitally important invertebrates over recent weeks – with great results. As of writing this, we have now recorded 14 species of bee on our street!

Where better to start than with bumblebees? The first queens appeared here in March providing a good opportunity to appreciate the emerging ladies in all of their fluffy, bumbling glory; while now, workers have begun to appear. Of these, Buff-tailed Bumblebee, Tree Bumblebee, and Common Carder Bee have been the most conspicuous, congregating en masse in the weed-filled yards that dominate on our street. More interesting still were sightings of Small Garden Bumblebee and Early Bumblebee – both new species for the ever-growing ‘street list‘.

Topping off our haul of Britain’s larger, more trendy bees, on a few occasions now we have caught sight of striking cuckoo bumblebee patrolling the length of hedge that fringes the nearby railway line. Sporting an eye-catching combination of a black body and white abdomen (okay, bum) this was either a Southern Cuckoo Bumblebee or Gypsy’s Cuckoo Bumblebee. Frustratingly, the pair are almost indistinguishable and I think I’ll have to make do with a question mark next to this record.


I confess that until recently, I had paid little attention to solitary bees, believing them small, difficult to identify, and perhaps, a little less interesting than our bumblebees. Oh, how wrong I was – these little engineers are fascinating to watch and just as vivid as their larger, more rotund kin.

One of the most abundant solitary bees observed of late has been the fox-coloured Tawny Mining Bee. A colony of which appears to be flourishing on the outskirts of the local allotments with the larger, ginger females favouring a patch of Cherry Laurel to bask each day as the sun warms up. One of our most recognisable solitary bees, this species is known to favour gardens, parks, and other artificial habitats thus its little wonder we have found them here.

Female and male Tawny Mining Bee (Andrena fulva)

Slightly less easy to identify, the former species appears to be sharing it’s a particular stretch of hedgerow with another species: the Chocolate Mining Bee. A new species for me, this large bee has a distinct Honeybee vibe about it but boasts characteristic white hairs on the underside of its hind legs. At first glance, this bee looks incredibly similar to another species, the Buffish Mining Bee, although, under scrutiny, the latter species displays an orange-coloured pollen brush on its back lets.

Chocolate Mining Bee (Andrena scotica)

At first glance, Buffish Mining Bees appear somewhat scarcer here and annoyingly, the only one I managed to photograph was covered in pollen, making recognition of those orange pollen brushes impossible.

Buffish Mining Bee (female)

Buffish Mining Bee (Andrena nigroaenea)

Familiar from bee boxes and wall cavities across the nation, the Red Mason Bee is another species we have noticed a lot recently. Boasting a beautiful mix of flame-orange and black, these bees have quickly become a regular fixture of our daily walks with the larger, some may say more appealing, females gathering in good numbers on the muddy shores of our local pond. Here they gather all-important mud used for lining their nest cells as shown in the video below – what a treat.

At the risk of waffling on too long about bees, I will skip over Early Mining Bees. What does warrant a mention however are colourful but confusing Nomada cuckoo bees that have become increasingly prevalent over recent weeks. Like the Cuckoo Bumblebees, these wasp-like bees are nest parasites – they lay their eggs in the nests of solitary bees, with most species of Nomad Bee favouring a particular species.

These blighters are notoriously hard to identify; particularly the tri-coloured individuals shown in the photos below. They could be Panzer’s Nomad Bee but alas, this is another instance where I may well have to settle for appreciating the bee absent delving into identification. We did, however, with some expert help from Charlotte Rankin (aka @bumble_being) manage to identify a single Gooden’s Nomad Bee – a known parasite of Buffish Mining Bee.

An unidentified Nomada sp.

If you cannot tell already, I definitely have bees on the brain at the moment. Little wonder really given how fascinating these important little insects are. I will curtail this blog post there and save a further bee-themed announcement for a future blog post.

If, like me, you live in the North East of England, please consider sharing your bee sightings as part of the North East Bee Hunt. Your records can help plug the gaps in our knowledge and ensure those working to protect bees are equipped with greater knowledge going forward.

More tales from the urban jungle

In line with the government guidance, this week, time in nature has been squeezed and condensed. A  few short forays to my local park and innumerable laps of our eerily quiet street the best I could muster while sticking to the law.

Outside, the seasons advance regardless of the turmoil unfolding in human society and the lives of the plants and animals continue as they always have, unchanged by the pandemic hamstringing their human admirers.

The big change observed this week on my local patch was the emergence of insect life. A few sunnier days, a marginal increase in temperature and the floodgates have well and truly opened. Butterflies have been conspicuous, the most numerous of which being Small Tortoiseshell and Peacock. Their presence adds a much-needed touch of colour to life here. They were not alone, however, and Comma too have emerged, brown yet far from dull; while yesterday brought my first Small White of the season.

Much like their more glamourous counterparts, bees to have dramatically increased this week. The few intrepid Buff-tailed Bumblebees now joined by Tree, White-tailed and Red-tailed bumbles, as well as my first Common Carder of the year. The greatest concentration of these furry pollinators being found on a stand of blooming Blackthorn in the centre of the local park – the setting for yesterdays allocated thirty minutes of ‘exercise’. The small white blooms, splayed and smiling, together form an irresistible draw to invertebrates of all shapes and sizes.

Also worthy of a mention on the invertebrate front was my first (ever) Dark-bordered Bee Fly; while a brief solitary bee, likely a Tawny Mining Bee, proved far too quick to photograph. As is often the norm with small, winged beasties.

Walking multiple, circular loops of the park, it was exciting to note at least four singing Chiffchaff. Their repetitive, maladroit song quite literally, music to my ears. Less so the sound of shrieking Ring-necked Parakeets, which seem to be growing more abundant by the day in my neck of the woods. Give it a decade or so and their population here may well mirror that of London.

What of the plants? Well, befitting January promise to educate myself on local plant life, I have continued to keep my eye to the ground. Locally, the fine weather this week as seen many more species set about blooming, and it was nice to note a few firsts for the year in the form of Greater Stitchwort and Cowslip. A small patch of Honesty blooming on the outskirts of the local allotment, clearly an escape from cultivation, was also pleasing to the eye.

But what of new species for current exercise in species diversity? Well, there were a few actually, including Henbit Dead-nettle, Charlock and Garden Grape Hyacinth found growing in cracks and crevices along the neighbouring street. On the slightly more mobile front, Daddy Long Legs and Garden Spider made up the arachnid haul; while I think I have successfully identified my first bryophyte here: Wall Screw Moss, Tortula muralis. How exciting, I hear you say!

All in all, that’s 114 species identified on my urban patch.

Signs of Spring, by Frances Jones

My walk through the woods has become significantly more important for me since the announcement came that the country was going into lockdown. The song of the blackbird, the sight of a butterfly; these and many more moments have become more precious as the freedom to move whenever and wherever is reduced. After a number of phone calls and emails trying to ascertain my next step, work-wise, I took myself off for a walk. This is my daily exercise, as defined in the government’s list of restrictions, but it serves an important purpose for my mind, too. The sight of green does a lot to keep my spirits high, and the unexpected but familiar creatures that I see whilst out of the house do, too.

This morning, I took the path that meanders alongside a brook at the back of the houses here. The water glistened, clear and bright, tumbling over the branches that had fallen there in the last storms. How long ago those seem, now! I stopped whilst a comma fluttered in front of me and came to rest on a celandine flower. It had chosen a sunny spot and bathed there several minutes. When I moved, I cast a shadow and the butterfly left its darkened flower and settled on another, still in sunshine. I moved with it and walked on,  leaving it in peace. The woodland was alive with birdsong; blue tits, great tits, chaffinches and blackbirds all sang to create a joyous chorus. I had woken up to their songs, and it wasn’t a bad way to start the day. Most mornings, the woodpigeons sit on the roof and coo, a rhythmic message that always ends on a short note. They also perch in the birch trees outside my window, looking rather too large for the delicate twigs that bear their weight. Sparrows flit from branch to branch, chattering and looking industrious. Last year I watched a greater spotted woodpecker hunt for titbits on the grass in front of the house. It was rather a treat for me to see one close up.

I turned left to follow the curve of the small lake. This area used to be a brickworks, and when the houses were built the lake was created to help minimise the risk of flooding. The trees are changing into their spring clothes now and the willows looked particularly beautiful against the deep blue sky. The delicate white of hawthorn lined my route around the water and on the banks, mallards were resting in the midday sun.

I’m intending, during this period of restricted movement, to make as much of my time outdoors as I can. I will pay attention to the birdsong and the wildlife I see; I’ll learn to identify more birds by song, and I will try to identify those that I don’t yet know by sight. Because I can wander through the woods and enjoy it, regardless, but as Simon Barnes says in How to be a Bad Birdwatcher, the naming of things is important. It brings meaning, extra appreciation, and a sense that we are connected to that creature, bird or tree that we see. Spring has sprung here and for that, I’m thankful.

Nature has no cue: Our ‘lost’ winters are throwing nature into a state of confusion

As butterflies and newts are spotted in December, earlier than nature intended, scientists warn that species are losing their seasonal cues as winters warm and seasons morph.

The latest data from Nature’s Calendar, the UK’s largest study of the seasons, shows that active butterflies and newts and nesting blackbirds have already been spotted, months earlier than normal.  This may spell disaster for some species, tempted out of hibernation too soon, as our increasingly erratic weather could yet bring fatal plummeting temperatures. And some birds appear to be breeding too late to capitalise on vital food sources.

Lorienne Whittle, Nature’s Calendar Citizen Science Officer at the Woodland Trust said:

“It seems that last year we almost lost winter as a season – it was much milder and our data shows wildlife is responding, potentially putting many at risk.”

“Our records are showing random events such as frogspawn arriving far earlier than expected, possibly to be wiped out when a late cold snap occurs.’’

The project compiles records of seasonal activity, sent in by thousands of volunteers across the UK, such as the first flowering snowdrop in spring to the first ripe berries of autumn. Final analysis of the 2019 data reveals that all but one, of over 50 Spring events it tracks, were early, but by varying amounts.  This adds to our knowledge of how climate change is having a direct and potentially detrimental impact on the survival of UK wildlife.

This is in line with the MET Office’s analysis of the last decade. Earlier this month it revealed that the last decade was the warmest on record, and 2019 was the second warmest year since 1850 when records began.

Some species appear to be falling out of sync with each other because each responds individually and at different rates to rising temperatures.

Lorianne continues:

“It appears that some species are able to adapt to the advancing spring better than others. Oak trees respond by producing their first leaves earlier and caterpillars seem to be keeping pace. But blue tits, great tits and pied flycatchers are struggling to react in time for their chicks to take advantage of the peak amount of caterpillars, the food source on which they depend.’’  

Danny Clarke, garden designer and TV presenter,  is supporting the Woodland Trust in its call for more recorders. He said:  “In recent years I’ve witnessed undeniable changes to our weather patterns. Gone are the times when a freezing snowy winter would be a certainty. Indeed I can count the toes on one foot, how many severe frosts are encountered at this period during recent years.

“Can’t help noticing how many deciduous trees are hanging onto their leaves for longer and on occasions not shedding them. Also, daffodils and tulips show themselves earlier than expected only to be knocked back by a cold spell. The tree and plant world doesn’t know whether to stick or twist at the moment and that’s down to climate change. I know of clients who continue to trim their lawns through the winter period. It’s bonkers mad!”

The project is now in its 20th year and is calling for more recorders to give an even clearer picture of the impact of climate change on our wildlife throughout the next decade. Its database currently contains 2.9 million records, collected since 1736, which are being used by researchers internationally. To get involved, visit naturescalendar.woodlandtrust.org.uk.

Volunteer Valerie Hurst, who has recorded for nearly twenty years, said : “The changes in the constancy of nature give real clues to climate change and are an indicator of climate change that we can all observe. I would say for me the point of real interest is the first snowdrop which seems to come ever earlier in January and the last leaf on the oak which seems to stay even longer into December.”

Some interesting records from the Woodland Trust:

Peacock butterfly. This overwinters as an adult in the UK. We had a record on Christmas eve (Kent) and another on 31/12/19 (Cornwall). In the past 10 years, we’ve only had 2 other December records. We suspect they have woken early due to mild weather in the south of the country.

Red admiral. spotted on a sunny wall on 30/12/19 in the Channel Islands. Only 4 December records in the past 10 years.

Newts. Active newts recorded on 27/12/19 in Cheshire. The recorder comments that they observe the pond every day so we’re confident it’s a good record. We’ve only had 3 other December records in the last 10 years.

Blackbird building a nest. Recorded on 02/01/20 in Wiltshire. The recorder has since commented that the nest is now fully built. In the last 10 years, we’ve only had 1 December record of blackbird nest building in December and only 4 other records that early in January.

Full records and analysis in full of 2019 can be found here 

Another issue of New Nature!

We’re delighted to bring you yet another edition of New Nature, the youth nature magazine. Covering September and October, the publication is jampacked with content associated with wildlife and wild spaces. You can download the latest edition for free.

For now, I will leave you with an introduction to the latest issue courtesy of outgoing Editor-in-Chief, Alexandra. Enjoy!


Autumn is a time of change; perceptible in the curl of a leaf, the early morning mist and the lingering of the moon in the late morning sky. Here at New Nature, we are undergoing some major changes too.

So it is within this letter that I take the opportunity to announce a few things; firstly we will be switching from bimonthly to quarterly to fit in with the seasons. We are a purely voluntary team and running a magazine is a full-time job, so sometimes we have to make adjustments to fit in with busy schedules. We will also be advertising for some new roles, so please keep an eye on our social media to see if there is something that could suit you – we are a lovely team to join and being a part of the magazine offers some fantastic opportunities. My final announcement is that one of those roles will be my position; Editor in Chief. I am not leaving the New Nature team completely but will be taking a step back into a background supporting role, allowing someone else to take the helm of this fantastic publication.

This is an exciting issue for me to finish on; I always love reading our writing competition entries and can say that the standard of entries has been really high! Even if you haven’t placed, we loved reading every single entry and are impressed with all of them – remember, we are always looking for contributors so if you want to send us an article we would love to hear your suggestions.

As well as selecting our competition winners (p. 20), the fantastic Dominic Couzens also talked to Lucy Hodson (p. 18) about his career in nature writing, we learn about how to take photographs ethically whilst still getting some outstanding shots with Benjamin Harris (p. 32), get some tips and advice from Danielle Conner (p.28) and Sophie May Lewis takes us through the autumnal changes she is seeing in her column about Sussex.

A huge thanks to everyone who has contributed, read or supported us at New Nature, we really appreciate it and are excited about the upcoming changes and hope that you will be too.

Alexandra Pearce-Broomhead, Editor-in-Cheif

The latest edition of New Nature!

It’s the moment you have all been waiting for – well, some of you at least. The latest edition of New Nature magazine, covering July and August, is out now and can be viewed at your leisure here: http://bit.ly/2XxKp1d


We are well into the summer months now and I hope you are all enjoying your various holidays, taking every opportunity to enjoy this season’s nature offerings.

Spring has always been the season of new beginnings and change – and that is something that I hope we have been seeing in the last few months. Whether you agree or not with Extinction Rebellion’s methods, they have certainly brought the subject of climate change to the forefront of everybody’s minds.

Here at New Nature, climate change is an important subject to us too. Which is why in this issue, we are asking you to send in your thoughts and feelings about climate change and the future of our planet (p46). Another thing which is new this month is some of our team! We have welcomed several new team members, so say hello to Jess Hamilton, Emily Seccombe, Emily Cooper and Hannah Rudd, and check out more about them on our team page. (p4)

As well as that we have lots of fantastic articles for you to enjoy, so kick back on your beach towel and get stuck in! We travel to Northern Ireland for our places to go this issue (p10), then dive down into the depths where we learn about limpets with Elliot Chandler (p20), investigate maerl beds with Harriet Gardiner (p22), learn about the importance of plankton with Sam Street (p36) and get up close to British sharks with Hannah Rudd
(p14).

Thanks so much for joining us for another issue – and as always, we want to hear from you, so please get in touch to share your views, photographs and articles!

Alexandra Pearce-Broomhead, Editor-in-Cheif

Adventures in the sea air

This past week has been one of a distinctly salty theme, with each one of my sporadic outings over the past few days connected, in some way, to the coast. All things included -spectacular wildlife, tantalising rarities and some intriguing, conservation-themed visits – it has been a jolly good one, providing a welcome reprieve from tedious paperwork and job hunting.

Starting off on Saturday and early morning found myself and Matt setting out for Amble, more specifically, for to the Northumbrian Seafood Centre where we spent a pleasant half-hour educating ourselves on all things Lobster. Yes, the relatively new centre is home to the Amble Lobster Hatchery – an ambitious scheme established in an effort to restore the areas lobster population to its former, numerically superior a glory. This is done by rearing individual crustaceans from egg to larvae to juvenile lobster, before releasing them back into the wild in the chilly North Sea. The hatchery serving a dual purpose by bringing visitors up-close and personal with crustaceans of all sizes, and making for an interesting stop-off point should you find yourself visiting Amble with time to spare. We certainly had fun!

Moving on from the hatchery, a short search for the day’s target species – Caspian Gull – drew a blank and, for a short while, we made do with admiring the moulting Eiders foraging for chips within the barnacle-crusted confines of the harbour. That, until we made a spur of the moment decision to embark on an impromptu Puffin cruise around the RSPB’s Coquet Island reserve. The venture culminating in splendid views of numerous Grey Seals alongside a whole host of endearing seabirds, the latter unsurprisingly including, you guessed it, a number of Puffins. The undisputed highlight of the forty-five-minute voyage coming from the sites Roseate Terns which performed admirably as we ogled the island from the boat.  Luckily, we also managed to catch up with the wayward Caspian Gull upon our arrival back to the harbour. Hooray – species number 211 for my Northumberland year list.

Later on Saturday, another short bus journey found us paying a quick visit to Druridge Pools where two Little Owls showed wonderfully in the intermittent afternoon sun and a Merlin passed briefly overhead on route North. An unexpected highlight here coming in the form a large mixed-flock of perhaps 300 or so House Sparrow, Tree Sparrow, Yellowhammer and Reed Bunting, all feeding en masse in a nearby wheat field. Not something you see every day given the recent, disheartening declines in these species within the wider countryside.


Another day, another adventure, and following a thesis-themed meeting in Newcastle, I made my way to St. Mary’s Island, in order to catch up with the visiting White-Rumped Sandpiper, unearthed earlier that morning by local birder, Alan Curry. Sure enough, immediately upon arrival, the charming American wader put in an appearance foraging amid the wrack. This time in the company of a few rather lovely Summer-plumaged Turnstone, as well as the odd Sanderling and Dunlin. Truth be told, the bird itself exceeding all expectations – it wasn’t half as “dull and brown” as I had anticipated – and provided a useful lesson in the identification of this particular species. A lesson which may well come in useful given the likelihood of one turning up on my own patch at Blyth this Autumn.

Finally, this week’s coastal antics concluded on Wednesday with an early morning visit to Newbiggin where, in the company of a few familiar faces from the birding scene, I enjoyed a two-hour stint of blustery seawatching. The high-points of the morning coming in the form of a superb Great Skua powering North above the breakers, and a pair of much more dainty Arctic Skua harrying the Sandwich Terns just offshore. Other interesting titbits here included approximately c750 Gannet moving past among smaller numbers of Kittiwake, Fulmar, Common Scoter, Arctic Tern and Golden Plover; though before long I was forced to depart in order to work on something else boasting a clear, coastal theme: my dissertation. It will all be over soon, James…

New Nature Issue 8!

The August edition of New Nature, the youth nature magazine, has been released and is now available to download online and free. Check it out: https://goo.gl/FeC9Sd

This issue has a definite marine theme and features some fabulous writing with regards to cetaceans, micro plastics and marine wildlife; in addition to an interview with Andy Bool, the head of the Sea Life Trust. As ever, it has been nothing short of a delight to work on this issue and I am incredibly grateful to the entire New Nature team from bringing yet another fabulous youth publication to life.

To learn more about New Nature, please check out our website – I can assure you, you will not be disappointed.