Autumn in Suburbia, by Frances Jones

I was returning home from work along the scenic route, having been tempted by the sunshine to prolong my journey. I followed the path along the river, which was a busy, but pleasant, highway with cyclists, runners and pedestrians, some pausing and taking a slower pace than they might otherwise in cooler weather. The trees overhanging the Thames were illuminated by a rich, warm light and the water sparkled like lights in a Christmas window. Long boughs dipped and swayed. Rowers directed their boats through the water leaving waves that lapped the shore in a gentle rhythm. I looked ahead; the path led through a corridor of different shades of greens and yellows, the trees glowing in the sunshine with all the presence of an opera diva; the stage is theirs at this time of year as particular species give us a brilliant show of colour. Acers, or maples, are wonderful trees for colour in the Autumn, and any walkthrough beech woods will provide a canopy of oranges and yellows.

I lingered momentarily to survey the scene and then turned up the path away from the river. Peeping through the blue diamond fencing were clusters of rose-hips, bold beads of crimson in a green tangle of foliage. Brambles with shrivelled fruit reminded me of the summer’s harvest; foragers had needed to be earlier than usual this year. A  great tit dived in front of me, closely followed by another, and I listened to their call, sheltered from the traffic in this patch of green.

On the other side of the path the blousy white flowers of bindweed decorated the railings of the playing field. If left to its own devices, the weed will have covered these metal bars by the end of the year. I passed holly trees standing tall with bright red berries, perfect for use in decoration in a couple of months time. A little further on and the autumnal colours appeared again in a burst of exuberance. A well-established Virginia creeper had enveloped the railings between two houses, covering the metalwork and adjacent bricks with deep reds and vibrant yellows. I liked the fact that nature had been allowed to run riot in a small way, in this little corner of the city.

As I crossed the common on the home straight, I paused to look at the trees lit up by the late sunshine. The differing oval-like shapes of oak, silver birch, and many others lent a softness to the scene that contrasted with the rigid lines of the houses I had just passed. Children lingered, using the last hour of daylight, knowing it would soon disappear. At my feet were the first scatterings of this year’s fallen leaves and the mist in the mornings reminds me that the seasons have changed. Summer has bowed out, despite the temperature trying to tell us otherwise. The glorious colours of Autumn brightened my walk home and the slow setting sun provided a fitting finale to a beautiful day.

The next morning, the pavement was covered with a spectrum of colour from the leaves that had blown down overnight. Shades of reds and yellows from a Japanese maple covered the ground so completely that they almost created a tessellation on the tarmac. I found myself peering down to look at the beauty of a single leaf. The heavy rain had turned the leaf-festooned pavement into a slippery route, however, and I trod carefully. A splendid rowan lit up the grey morning with its bright red berries, and its leaves had already formed a pattern on the pavement. I am lucky to live in an area where trees grow on residential streets and I took extra notice of them on this blustery Autumnal day.

 

 

The exotic heart of London

Hailing from the North East of England, to me, a visit to London is much like a visit to a dystopian future. One where geographical boundaries blur and species which naturally should never have encountered one another, stand cheek by jowl in an odd assemblage of the tropical and tenacious. From squirrels, birds and fish to the very trees that make up the backbone of the city’s parks, wildlife watching in London is a queer old affair.

Killing some time between professional commitments upon a recent trip ‘down south’, it would have been rude of me not to visit at least a few of London’s many sprawling parks. And I did: calling first at St. James’s to enjoy its otherworldly assortment of wildfowl – both captive and wild. Admiring the numerous Egyptian geese, hamstringing passers-by for a free meal in the company of feral Bar-headed Geese – originally from Asia – and the odd free-flying Black Swan. Whether or not the latter were part of the parks extensive collection remains open to speculation. Coupled with the odd Mandarin, these helped set an altogether tropical tone to our stay in the capital.

Egyptian Geese

The collections at St. James’s were interesting too, of course. Paramount to any zoo and providing a great opportunity to brush up on my exotic waterfowl ID – with Ruddy Shelduck, Hooded Merganser, Red-breasted Goose, Fulvous Whistling Duck and Ross’s Goose present to name but a few. Not to mention the world-famous Pelicans doing their utmost to delight the amassed crowds. I confess, I was quite taken by them.

Famous pelicans, with bonus Ruddy Shelduck and Red-breasted Geese

Departing St. James’s, we headed for Hyde Park – brandishing an apple so to [hopefully] gain a closer look at one of the capitals most prolific alien residents: Ring-necked Parakeets. We were not disappointed, and after almost an hour of hearing the characteristic, piercing shrieks of this species from high in the canopy of London Plane – another non-native species – soon found ourselves covered head-to-toe in lurid green birds. The characterful parrots just as confiding as the countless pictures posted to social media had suggested: adorning head and arm alike as they squabbled for prime, fruit-stealing position. With some even going so far as to deliver a short, sharp bite when not immediately pandered to – impatient Southerners.

Up-close and personal with London’s parakeets

While some find themselves conflicted regarding Grey Squirrels [we saw an ungodly amount of these in London too] I, like many others, find myself torn on Ring-necked Parakeets. On one hand, they are potentially damaging invasives: killing bats, extirpating native birds from nest holes and plundering food crops. They are noisy, brazen, disruptive and at the base of things, should not be here. On the other hand, they are rather beautiful, and for many in the city, provide a much-needed link to the natural world. One they are familiar with. Honestly, I could not help but feel charmed by the birds and, with their permanent status in Britain all but assured, see no harm in celebrating them for what they are: adaptive and resilient colonists. Much like ourselves.

Parakeets, waterfowl and invasive squirrels aside, I would like to say that I also noted an abundance of native species in London. I didn’t. By large, most of the species seen and enjoyed were colonists – each impressive in their own way. Something which, if little else, serves to help me understand the difficulties faced when we conservationists openly and fiercely discuss the need to control, limit and destroy non-native species. For some, species such as this – the parakeets, grey squirrels and Egyptian Geese of this world – are all the wildlife they know. Little wonder then that some choose to defend them so vigorously. I might not agree, but I do understand.

 

Nature: just what the doctor ordered

GPs in Shetland are now able to prescribe nature to their patient’s thanks to a pioneering partnership project

A partnership project between NHS Shetland and RSPB Scotland, which is thought to be the first of its kind in the UK, has been extended following a successful pilot. From this week, all of Shetland’s GPs will be able to prescribe nature as part of their patient’s treatment.

The successful pilot, which took place at Scalloway surgery last year, has led to the rollout of “Nature Prescriptions” to all ten GP surgeries across the county.

Nature Prescription recognises the benefits of nature in reducing blood pressure, reducing anxiety and increasing happiness as well as the growing disconnection with nature throughout society.

RSPB Scotland have produced a leaflet and a calendar of seasonal activities using local knowledge and understanding of connecting people with nature. It attempts to provide a greater variety of ways to realise the health benefits that nature can provide regardless of health condition, confidence or if you are a sociable or more solitary person. The leaflet will be handed out at each doctor’s discretion.

Dr Chloe Evans, a GP at Scalloway Health Centre, said: “I want to take part because the project provides a structured way for patients to access nature as part of a non-drug approach to health problems. The benefits to patients are that it is free, easily accessible, allows increased connection with surroundings which hopefully leads to improved physical and mental health for individuals”. 

Lauren Peterson, Health Improvement Practitioner for NHS Shetland, said: “The Health Improvement Department of the NHS are delighted to be working alongside RSPB Scotland to be able to promote such a worthwhile project in Shetland.  Through the Nature Prescriptions project GPs and nurses can explain and promote the many benefits which being outdoors can have on physical and mental wellbeing.  The fantastic leaflet resource which has been produced by RSPB Scotland assists in highlighting the many benefits which are to be gained from being outdoors in the natural environment.  It also provides inspiration in the forms of different ideas of what to do out in the fresh air which may help to ‘Nature Your Soul’ at different times of the year”.

Karen MacKelvie is a Community Engagement Officer for RSPB Scotland. She said: “There is overwhelming evidence that nature has health benefits for body and mind. Shetland is “stappit foo” of natural wonders. Whenever you open your front door you can hear or see some kind of natural delight – be it a gull or a lapwing calling or the roll of a heathery hill. However, despite many doctors using the outdoors as a resource to combat ill-health, far fewer recommend the same strategy to their patients. So, we saw an opportunity to design a leaflet that helps doctors describe the health benefits of nature and provides plenty of local ideas to help doctors fire-up their patients’ imaginations and get them outdoors.

It’s been a delight to work in partnership with GPs on this and it’s great for us because we get to help connect people with nature that we wouldn’t normally see at our reserves, events or on our guided walks. Helping people connect with nature is a great way to inspire them to protect it.”

The benefits of physical activity are well documented, with regular physical activity reducing the risk of heart disease and strokes, diabetes, cancers, depression, anxiety and sleep problems.

There is now a body of evidence that people with a stronger connection to nature experience more life satisfaction, positive affect and vitality at levels associated with established predictors of satisfaction, such as personal income.

It’s widely understood that connections to nature come from more than physical activity or exercise in the outdoors alone and that’s the crux of the project.

© Karen Mackelvie

Cover image: © Ian Francis

Cyclamen and Summer’s End, by Frances Jones

A late afternoon in the final week of summer and I found myself taking a detour along the edge of woodland on my local common. The place was bathed in a vivid light, bright enough to illuminate the trees in their various shades of green, and there was a strong breeze that whipped around my shirt and played with the fallen leaves beneath my feet. Although still warm, I could feel the chill that the darker evening would bring. It was enough to make me sense the gradual decline of Summer and the encroaching tide of Autumn.

A speckled carpet of pink and white caught my eye and I noticed cyclamen beneath the branches of a horse chestnut. The confetti-like colours made a great contrast to the browns of bracken and fallen leaves on the woodland’s floor, but I couldn’t help wondering if this was an unusual sight at this time of year. I’m used to seeing these at Christmas time and remember them brightening the shelves of the garden centre where I worked as a student. They do flower throughout the year but I had never seen them here and my guess is that their appearance at this time was hastened by the unusual weather conditions this year. The cyclamen flowers were hosting a number of bees, which were clearly being much more industrious than me, standing as I was and pondering the seasons. As I walked through the woodland I passed silver birch, beech and oak, all playing host to various eco-systems, the inhabitants of which were mostly too tiny for me to see as a passerby.

On the Common, the grass had been harvested and bales of hay were dotted at various intervals in a very pastoral scene. On an impromptu visit to Morden Hall Park last month I came across workers gathering the hay entirely by hand and then loading it onto a cart pulled by two shire horses. The scene could have come straight out of a painting by Constable. The manpower was considerable and was made up of National Trust workers and volunteers, but the horses were a wonderful sight to see, and there was little noise other than the calls of the workers and the stomping of the horses’ hooves as they pulled the cart.

I paused on a semi-sheltered spot on the Common beneath a wonderful old oak, the curvaceous shape of which seemed benign and welcoming. A path wound up through the copse behind me. I knew it would lead to the river after no great distance but a new path is for exploration, nevertheless. A pair of meadow browns danced in the breeze, chasing higher and higher without breaking their helix-like choreography. The bright green oak leaves contrasted with the Mediterranean blue of the sky.  Here, for a minute, the seasons had paused and summer reigned still.  These patches of green are treasures, oases that make living in a city a joy. A few minutes beneath the woodland branches and I was refreshed and ready to face the world again.

A bigger, better New Nature Magazine

Following a short, creative hiatus, we’re stoked to bring you the latest edition of New Nature Magazine. This time boasting a new look and an even more jam-packed format [50 pages, no less].

The decision to move to a bi-monthly release schedule was not an easy one but, with a corresponding increase in time, we believe it has been worthwhile. With ample time now to prepare an eye-catching publication, and to feature the work of an increased number of young environmentalists. To this end, we hope you enjoy our latest issue!

You can download the latest edition of New Nature here, or subscribe to receive releases direct to your inbox.

The sweet song of summer is gradually drawing to an end and the coming autumn begins to take hold. The months of September and October see a change not only in the weather for our wildlife, but the species that can be found here. Migrants such as swallows gather to wave goodbye to our land and fly to warmer climes for the winter, while flocks of noisy geese join us in abundance. It also marks a period of change for
New Nature magazine with the publication of our very first bi-monthly issue! It is crammed full with advice for the season, as Elliot Dowding tells us what to watch for this month (p8), and we revel in excitement for the coming deer rut thanks to our glorious cover image taken by Oscar Dewhurst. You can delve into this species on p12 where Scott Thomson tells us all about this impressive mammal.

This time of year provides a chance for summer reflections as Sophie May Lewis takes us on a journey through the South Downs (p18) and I recall the glory of a coastal walk in late summer (p14). We continue to focus on conservation projects, including schemes to reduce bycatch (p32), and why nature is so important for our own health (p36). We also hear from Professor Adam Hart, the lead author of an interesting research article recently published in the British Ecological Society’s journal Methods in Ecology and Evolution.

From the gorgeous greens of summer to the drifting russet leaves of autumn, we hope this first bi-monthly issue makes you want to revel in the season. As always we are grateful for everyone’s support for New Nature, and if you want to write about wonderful wildlife, have a conservation concern, or are involved with a thriving nature project then we would love to hear from you.

ALICE JOHNSON
Editor-in-Chief

Top 10 Facts: Fly Agaric

Infamous. Amantia muscaria is one of the most recognisable fungi in the world. A recent study by European scientists, during which subjects were shown images of various mushrooms, found that respondents successfully identified the species on 96% of occasions. Common, white forms of fungi were successfully identified by only 53% of participants.

Romanticised. The red and white spotted toadstool is rife in popular culture. So much so that garden ornaments and children’s books often depict gnomes and fairies [even Smurfs] using Fly Agaric as a home or seat. The mushroom features strongly in the video game series Super Mario Bros – specifically used as a power-up item – and, perhaps more famously, featured in the dancing mushroom sequence in the 1940 Disney flick, Fantasia. Perhaps this explains its global recognition.

Fly Agaric, spotted at Gosforth Nature Reserve

Toxicity. Fly Agaric contains several biologically active agents. One of these, Ibotenic Acid, is a known neurotoxin; while another, muscimol, is a powerful psychoactive. When ingested, the former serves to intensify the effect of the latter. A fatal dose of agaric has been calculated as 15 caps but, despite dramatisation in historical texts, fatal poisonings are extremely rare. The North American Mycological Association has stated that there were: no reliably documented cases of death from these mushrooms in the past 100 years.

Nasty side-effects. It is not recommended that you consume Fly Agaric, and side-effects of consumption are known to include nausea, drowsiness, muscle spasms, low blood pressure, hallucinations and loss of balance. In extreme cases, seizures and coma have been recorded. Symptoms typically appear between 30-90 minutes after consumption and peak within three hours, although many unlucky souls have reported ‘piercing headaches’ for many days after.

Those Siberians. Amanita muscaria was widely used as an entheogen [psychoactive] by many indigenous peoples in Siberia. In Western parts, its use was mainly restricted to shamans who used the fungi as a means of inducing a trance-like state; while its use in Eastern parts was traditionally more recreational. Here, shamans would take the mushrooms and others would drink their urine: with internal processes serving both to amplify the potency of the mushroom as a psychoactive, and to reduce its harmful toxicity.

‘Fly’ Agaric. The name Fly Agaric stems from the use of this fungi as an insecticide in some parts of Europe, including England and Germany. Often its cap was broken up and sprinkled into milk so to form an irresistible, yet deadly, trap for flying insects. The species’ use as an insecticide was first recorded by Albertus Magnus in his work De vegetabilibus around 1256. Recent research has shown this particular old wives tale to be true, and the famed fly-killer is now known to be Ibotenic Acid.

Berserker myths. Many texts, television shows and even blog posts buy into the historical depiction of Vikings as routine Amanita muscaria users. Specifically, Viking Berserkers were rumoured to consume the fungi prior to battle – to induce a state of unrivalled ferocity. A notion first suggested by Swedish professor Samuel Ödmann in 1784.  There are, however, no contemporary sources that mention this use or anything similar in their description of berserkers. It may just be made up…

Symbiosis. This fungus has a symbiotic association with birch and pine trees – meaning that both the host tree and the fungi derive benefits from a close association. In this instance, the fungal mycelium ferries nutrients into the tree roots and, in return, receives important sugars from the tree’s photosynthesis of sunlight.

Chameleon. The characteristic red colour of Fly Agaric may fade after rain or in older mushrooms – lending the toadstool a washed-out, orange appearance. The famous white spots on the cap, visible after emergence from the ground, are also easily displaced. These are remnants of the universal veil, a membrane that encloses the entire mushroom when it is still very young.

Varieties. Contrary to popular depictions, two additional forms of Fly Agaric are known to occur in Britain. These are Amanita muscaria var. aureola, boasting a vibrant orange-yellow cap, and Muscaria var. Formosa is a rather rare brown or yellow-brown form sporting a slightly tinted veil. Both of these are seldom seen and those lucky enough to stumble across them on their fungal forays should count themselves lucky.

Driven Grouse Shooting: the Bluff’s Been Called, by Les Wallace

This post was originally written for  Bowland Raptor Politics. The thoughts expressed here are those of the author alone and do not necessarily represent my own.

Well with clockwork regularity another season’s fledged hen harriers ‘disappear’ over grouse moor. They’re not even making an effort to throttle back in the face of growing censure in fact they seem to be giving conservationists, the public and the law a bigger two finger salute than ever.  Time to return the gesture, but the thing is we don’t have to resort to breaking the law or raw insult we just have to ask as members of the public for what we always should have had. Given that it’s our taxes and too often politicians that are already supporting driven grouse shooting – we need an independent, comprehensive economic analysis to see if we are giving subsidies to something that actually deserves them.

What’s really keeping grouse moors afloat politically is not the phoney conservation case they put forward with more holes than a Swiss cheese; it’s the phoney jobs one. I know genuine environmentalists who detest driven grouse shooting (DGS) but cannot bring themselves to campaign against it because they truly believe rural communities will be devastated by job losses  –  the threats that families will lose their homes, schools will close and villages die hit home although they are almost certainly not true, but  jobs blackmail works.

Common sense and history, especially of industrial areas that were dependent upon the local steel mill, coal mines or shipyards, tell us that economically as well as ecologically it’s best to be ‘diverse’ – a strong local economy with many elements that can shift and adapt to knocks rather than collapse from one foul stroke of misfortune. This year’s ‘poor’ grouse shooting season where local businesses suffered because grouse chicks haven’t done too well really underlines this. How idiotic it is to depend upon the intensive and extensive ‘management’ of vast swathes of land for something that compromises virtually every other activity that could take place there. Something that can never, ever be for anything other than a tiny minority and doesn’t even have the saving grace of being a spectator sport, something which countries across northern Europe, Asia and America could do with the willow grouse – but no other country in the world will touch with a ten foot barge pole.

To this end government petition 226109 ‘An Independent Study to find if Driven Grouse Shooting is of Economic Benefit’ has been set up. If it reaches 10,000 signatures an official government response will be required which will be very interesting indeed. Official responses to government petitions wanting to ban DGS would typically include some reference that it is a vital contributor to the rural economy – how can it say that in response to a petition asking if that’s true? The Scottish Government is already conducting a wide-ranging review of driven grouse shooting which includes an economic study so it would be very difficult to justify not having one south of the border given the dearth of comprehensive, up to date and independent studies currently – obviously the various ones produced by the grouse shooting sector don’t make the grade except perhaps as comedy material or toilet paper.

To get to the 10,000 mark and hopefully beyond by the closing date of Feb 2nd 2019 is doable, but challenging. Rather ironically (but understandably) it ‘s much, much easier to get lots of signatures  for petitions against animal cruelty and loss of wildlife than it is for an economic study, but if we prove DGS is driving away jobs as much as it is wildlife then it will lose political support and with that its capacity to ‘cull’ mountain hares, get dodgy licenses for killing ravens, to snare, trap and build stink pits, to blame ramblers and raptor workers for scaring off birds of prey while the accusers are killing them illegally, to bulldoze hill tracks to get fat stock brokers on to the moors, to create a fire-prone landscape then say they’ve got to maintain it to reduce fire risk, to pollute and degrade watercourses with muir burn and exacerbate flooding downstream. If they lose the capacity to apply jobs blackmail they lose the grouse moors and with it will go every single one of its cruelties and absurdities.

This might sound like wishful thinking, but the petition isn’t just about getting signatures it’s about making a political point. Considering that pro-DGS organisations repeatedly claim that without it communities will die etc should they not absolutely cock a hoop at the opportunity to get official verification that no one could effectively challenge? Makes you wonder why they didn’t initiate this petition themselves. So it was with great surprise that when I contacted the Moorland Association, National Gamekeepers Organisation, GWCT, BASC and four English moorland forums with the news they now had a petition for an independent study they could and should promote to their heart’s content not only did they not do so, they didn’t even acknowledge my communications! It was if they wanted to pretend the petition didn’t exist. Of course in any subsequent statements, they make re the positive economics of DGS I (and now you) can point out this anomaly – their bluff’s been called.  I also contacted the constituency parties of four of the MPs who stood up in support of DGS at the notorious parliamentary ‘debate’ on the 31st of October 2016 that resulted from Mark Avery’s petition to ban DGS. It was pointed out that they now had the chance to back up their MPs’ assertions by supporting the petition, again absolutely no reaction from any of them. What would the public make of that? Would we be right in saying they are all frightened of the petition, do they believe it’s the DGS nemesis?

If we’ve identified the Achilles Heel of DGS, which for years they’ve tried to make ours, let’s hammer the nail into it just as remorselessly as they kill hen harriers.  Nowhere in the north of England can be very far from a driven grouse moor, we need ‘petition champions’ who will do what they can to raise the issue in the local papers, ask local conservation and environmental groups to support the petition, contact the local branches of the political parties, councillors, ramblers clubs – and in fact anybody that might spend time on the moors, local businesses that might like to know if they’d do better without DGS and might think their family income shouldn’t be dependent on grouse chick productivity, animal welfare charities obviously and no doubt many more you can think of. And if there’s more than one person in a locality doing this – all the better. There cannot possibly be any legitimate objection to a proper economic study of something which receives public subsidy and effects so many directly and indirectly – in fact, all rational individuals should sign it.

Of course getting the public interested in grouse moors when most have very little to do with them is difficult, but rather the point too – they mean so very little to most when they should mean a lot – the places where you really can get away from the big smoke and see amazing wildlife and a genuinely stunning landscape – places where fell runners don’t get caught in snares. Places so much better to visit and live in with more jobs and more wildlife. We could use everything from peat bog restoration to riparian tree planting, and yes even beavers (wouldn’t they draw people into the hills!) in the right places to reduce the effects of flooding and drought downstream, improve water quality and reduce fire risk. With proper ecological restoration, you’d start getting wildlife back including the dramatic raptors, that means far greater scope for wildlife photography, bushcraft and foraging classes – how many people could do these rather than shooting grouse, hundreds, thousands? Better business plus far, far more of us genuinely benefitting from OUR heritage. Imagine a place which still has red grouse, but also hosts bat walks? Then there are conservation working holidays like the two I did in the Forest of Bowland after the end of the grouse shooting as it happens – we spent a fair amount in the local shops, pubs and even the local pantomime, and had a great time!

There are families who don’t want a wood stove because it would look nice and make them ‘carbon neutral’ but because they don’t have access to mains gas – that’s what’s called a legitimate need for woodlot forestry. I’ve stood in Fort William after interviewing families in dire fuel poverty, spending more than 10% of their income trying to heat their homes in a particularly cold and damp climate, looking up at the surrounding hills seeing miles and miles of heather being burnt off – for grouse or sheep or both I’m not sure, but that could have at least been producing logs for people who really struggled to keep their kids warm – that I have to say pissed me off. Better fire in the hearth than fire on the hill – another option for the new mix.

It’s not only about fully-fledged ecotourism it’s also just being better places to walk and picnic in where you’re not a second class citizen because you have nothing to do with grouse shooting. Do any grouse moors have pony trekking on them, even offseason? Not dramatic or original, but I imagine a nice change or opportunity for many people. In my mind’s eye, I’m trying to visualise a group of pony trekkers going across what was a grouse moor, so much nicer than a line of shooters. Of course, the public should be asked to make suggestions, emphasizing the need not to compromise wildlife or the environment, and we can look abroad for ideas too.

We need people to get signatures for the petition and to use it as a catalyst to raise awareness and stimulate debate – we’ve been getting shortchanged for a long, long time. No matter how powerful, pampered and influential the grouse moor owners are they can’t ignore public opinion; for one thing their on a leash MP friends still need to get voted in. As long ago as the 1930s the Kinder Scout trespass showed that people with dedication and right on their side could give the grouse moor owners one hell of a bloody nose. I’m positive that no amount of raptor persecution or mountain hare massacres will ever be enough to get DGS stopped as long as people think doing so means a young family in the street, but turn that round to mean all children are missing out on the chance to see real wildlife and that jobs helping to make that happen are being lost among so many other things due to DGS then it has really had it – and ‘they’ know it.

There’s the story, now cliché really, that Al Capone wasn’t chucked behind bars because he was nabbed for bootlegging, extortion or murder, but for income tax evasion. I think there’s quite a lot of relevance there for DGS and all the missing raptors, damaged moor and lies. Please, please, please get behind the petition at local level – remember the lost harriers, get stuck in and have fun doing it! Thanks.

Links

The petition – https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/226109

The 2017 petition to get the Scottish Government to commission an independent economic study of DGS (carries far more background information than the Westminster one) – http://www.parliament.scot/GettingInvolved/Petitions/PE01663

Labour MP Sue Hayman shadow secretary for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs – her statement regarding the need for full ecological and economic analysis of DGS – https://labourlist.org/2018/08/sue-hayman-its-time-to-end-grouse-moor-practices-that-harm-the-environment/

Glen Tanar –  a rare, but brilliant example of a grouse shooting estate that is genuinely diversifying – the other estates hate it! – https://www.glentanar.co.uk/about

 

Well with clockwork regularity another season’s fledged hen harriers ‘disappear’ over grouse moor. They’re not even making an effort to throttle back in the face of growing censure in fact they seem to be giving conservationists, the public and the law a bigger two finger salute than ever.  Time to return the gesture, but the thing is we don’t have to resort to breaking the law or raw insult we just have to ask as members of the public for what we always should have had. Given that it’s our taxes and too often politicians that are already supporting driven grouse shooting – we need an independent, comprehensive economic analysis to see if we are giving subsidies to something that actually deserves them.

What’s really keeping grouse moors afloat politically is not the phony conservation case they put forward with more holes than a Swiss cheese; it’s the phony jobs one. I know genuine environmentalists who detest driven grouse shooting (DGS) but cannot bring themselves to campaign against it because they truly believe rural communities will be devastated by job losses  –  the threats that families will lose their homes, schools will close and villages die hit home although they are almost certainly not true, but  jobs blackmail works.

Common sense and history, especially of industrial areas that were dependent upon the local steel mill, coal mines or shipyards, tell us that economically as well as ecologically it’s best to be ‘diverse’ – a strong local economy with many elements that can shift and adapt to knocks rather than collapse from one foul stroke of misfortune. This year’s ‘poor’ grouse shooting season where local businesses suffered because grouse chicks haven’t done too well really underlines this. How idiotic it is to depend upon the intensive and extensive ‘management’ of vast swathes of land for something that compromises virtually every other activity that could take place there. Something that can never, ever be for anything other than a tiny minority and doesn’t even have the saving grace of being a spectator sport, something which countries across northern Europe, Asia and America could do with the willow grouse – but no other country in the world will touch with a ten foot barge pole.

To this end government petition 226109 ‘An Independent Study to find if Driven Grouse Shooting is of Economic Benefit’ has been set up. If it reaches 10,000 signatures an official government response will be required which will be very interesting indeed. Official responses to government petitions wanting to ban DGS would typically include some reference that it is a vital contributor to the rural economy – how can it say that in response to a petition asking if that’s true? The Scottish Government is already conducting a wide ranging review of driven grouse shooting which includes an economic study so it would be very difficult to justify not having one south of the border given the dearth of comprehensive, up to date and independent studies currently – obviously the various ones produced by the grouse shooting sector don’t make the grade except perhaps as comedy material or toilet paper.

To get to the 10,000 mark and hopefully beyond by the closing date of Feb 2nd 2019 is doable, but challenging. Rather ironically (but understandably) it ‘s much, much easier to get lots of signatures  for petitions against animal cruelty and loss of wildlife than it is for an economic study, but if we prove DGS is driving away jobs as much as it is wildlife then it will lose political support and with that its capacity to ‘cull’ mountain hares, get dodgy licenses for killing ravens, to snare, trap and build stink pits, to blame ramblers and raptor workers for scaring off birds of prey while the accusers are killing them illegally, to bulldoze hill tracks to get fat stock brokers on to the moors, to create a fire prone landscape then say they’ve got to maintain it to reduce fire risk, to pollute and degrade watercourses with muir burn and exacerbate flooding downstream. If they lose the capacity to apply jobs blackmail they lose the grouse moors and with it will go every single one of its cruelties and absurdities.

This might sound like wishful thinking, but the petition isn’t just about getting signatures it’s about making a political point. Considering that pro DGS organisations repeatedly claim that without it communities will die etc should they not be absolutely cock a hoop at the opportunity to get official verification that no one could effectively challenge? Makes you wonder why they didn’t initiate this petition them selves. So it was with great surprise that when I contacted the Moorland Association, National Gamekeepers Organisation, GWCT, BASC and four English moorland forums with the news they now had a petition for an independent study they could and should promote to their heart’s content not only did they not do so, they didn’t even acknowledge my communications! It was if they wanted to pretend the petition didn’t exist. Of course in any subsequent statements they make re the positive economics of DGS I (and now you) can point out this anomaly – their bluff’s been called.  I also contacted the constituency parties of four of the MPs who stood up in support of DGS at the notorious parliamentary ‘debate’ on the 31st of October 2016 that resulted from Mark Avery’s petition to ban DGS. It was pointed out that they now had the chance to back up their MPs’ assertions by supporting the petition, again absolutely no reaction from any of them. What would the public make of that? Would we be right in saying they are all frightened of the petition, do they believe it’s the DGS nemesis?

If we’ve identified the Achilles Heel of DGS, which for years they’ve tried to make ours, let’s hammer the nail into it just as remorselessly as they kill hen harriers.  Nowhere in the north of England can be very far from a driven grouse moor, we need ‘petition champions’ who will do what they can to raise the issue in the local papers, ask local conservation and environmental groups to support the petition, contact the local branches of the political parties, councillors, ramblers clubs – and in fact anybody that might spend time on the moors, local businesses that might like to know if they’d do better without DGS and might think their family income shouldn’t be dependent on grouse chick productivity, animal welfare charities obviously and no doubt many more you can think of. And if there’s more than one person in a locality doing this – all the better. There cannot possibly be any legitimate objection to a proper economic study of something which receives public subsidy and effects so many directly and indirectly – in fact all rational individuals should sign it.

Of course getting the public interested in grouse moors when most have very little to do with them is difficult, but rather the point too – they mean so very little to most when they should mean a lot – the places where you really can get away from the big smoke and see amazing wildlife and a genuinely stunning landscape – places where fell runners don’t get caught in snares. Places so much better to visit and live in with more jobs and more wildlife. We could use everything from peat bog restoration to riparian tree planting, and yes even beavers (wouldn’t they draw people into the hills!) in the right places to reduce the effects of flooding and drought downstream, improve water quality and reduce fire risk. With proper ecological restoration you’d start getting wildlife back including the dramatic raptors, that means far greater scope for wildlife photography, bushcraft and foraging classes – how many people could do these rather than shoot driven grouse, hundreds, thousands fold? Better business plus far, far more of us genuinely benefitting from OUR heritage. Imagine a place which still has red grouse, but also hosts bat walks? Then there are conservation working holidays like the two I did in the Forest of Bowland after the end of the grouse shooting as it happens – we spent a fair amount in the local shops, pubs and even the local pantomime, and had a great time!

There are families who don’t want a wood stove because it would look nice and make them ‘carbon neutral’ but because they don’t have access to mains gas – that’s what’s called a legitimate need for woodlot forestry. I’ve stood in Fort William after interviewing families in dire fuel poverty, spending more than 10% of their income trying to heat their homes in a particularly cold and damp climate, looking up at the surrounding hills seeing miles and miles of heather being burnt off – for grouse or sheep or both I’m not sure, but that could have at least been producing logs for people who really struggled to keep their kids warm – that I have to say pissed me off. Better fire in the hearth than fire on the hill – another option for the new mix.

It’s not only about fully fledged eco tourism it’s also just being better places to walk and picnic in where you’re not a second class citizen because you have nothing to do with grouse shooting. Do any grouse moors have pony trekking on them, even off season? Not dramatic or original, but I imagine a nice change or opportunity for many people. In my mind’s eye I’m trying to visualise a group of pony trekkers going across what was a grouse moor, so much nicer than a line of shooters. Of course the public should be asked to make suggestions, emphasizing the need not to compromise wildlife or environment, and we can look abroad for ideas too.

We need people to get signatures for the petition and to use it as a catalyst to raise awareness and stimulate debate – we’ve been getting short changed for a long, long time. No matter how powerful, pampered and influential the grouse moor owners are they can’t ignore public opinion; for one thing their on a leash MP friends still need to get voted in. As long ago as the 1930s the Kinder Scout trespass showed that people with dedication and right on their side could give the grouse moor owners one hell of a bloody nose. I’m positive that no amount of raptor persecution or mountain hare massacres will ever be enough to get DGS stopped as long as people think doing so means a young family in the street, but turn that round to mean all children are missing out on the chance to see real wildlife and that jobs helping to make that happen are being lost among so many other things due to DGS then it has really had it – and ‘they’ know it.

There’s the story, now cliché really, that Al Capone wasn’t chucked behind bars because he was nabbed for bootlegging, extortion or murder, but for income tax evasion. I think there’s quite a lot of relevance there for DGS and all the missing raptors, damaged moor and lies. Please, please, please get behind the petition at local level – remember the lost harriers, get stuck in and have fun doing it! Thanks.

Links

The petition – https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/226109

The 2017 petition to get the Scottish Government to commission an independent economic study of DGS (carries far more background information than the Westminster one) – http://www.parliament.scot/GettingInvolved/Petitions/PE01663

Labour MP Sue Hayman shadow secretary for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs – her statement regarding the need for full ecological and economic analysis of DGS – https://labourlist.org/2018/08/sue-hayman-its-time-to-end-grouse-moor-practices-that-harm-the-environment/

Glen Tanar –  a rare, but brilliant example of a grouse shooting estate that is genuinely diversifying – the other estates hate it! – https://www.glentanar.co.uk/about

 

 

Cetaceans on the Northumbrian coast

Yesterday I experienced something new and otherworldly: discovering a new side to my home county – Northumberland, for those who haven’t yet guessed – on a ten-hour trip into the North Sea with Northern Experience Wildlife Tours. The trip delivering a surreal experience as, at long last, I was able to get up close and personal with cetaceans in local waters, and resulting in a number of simply jaw-dropping moments.

Setting out from Royal Quays, the first few hours served to build anticipation. The sight of countless seabirds over open water – Gannets, Razorbills, Kittiwakes, Guillemots and more –  providing a welcome change from the norm, and a few Grey Seals, as ever, most welcome. It was not until the team at helm spotted a flock of Gannets feeding en masse, however, that things really picked up. The sight of myriad birds torpedoing downwards into the depths reminiscent of some Attenborough documentary; entrancing, at least until the birds lifted. Yielding the water to the barrel-like body of  Minke whale lunging up from the depths – the sight of this behemoth as it emerged and fell in one, surprisingly swift rolling motion, quite unlike anything I had ever seen before. Awe-inspiring – minkes may be relatively small in comparison to other baleen whales but they are still impressive beasts.

I missed the whale with my camera: intent on staring and enjoying, mouth agape, rather than fumbling for my lens. No matter. Moving further North, miles off-shore, there was plenty opportunity to take pictures – the sight of a single White-beaked Dolphin and its brief appearance at the bow of the boat a pleasing precursor to an experience quite unlike anything I have witnessed before, anywhere in the world.

White-beaked Dolphins – somewhere off the Northumberland coast

Soon enough, as we meandered our way North, our boat found itself accompanied by an escort of dolphins: one pod after another tailing the vessel before peeling off and leaving room for another entourage to join. The animals breaching incessantly at both sides, at times within touching distance, and providing the ideal opportunity for closer scrutiny. They really are magnificent animals: clad in alternating hues of grey but appearing almost blue and white under the water – far more attractive, dare I say, than the much more renowned Bottlenose dolphins we all know and love. Indeed, it is only while watching dolphins beneath the waves that one gets a sense of their true power – sturdy, rudder-like tails propelling them at a truly incredible pace.

Watching the dolphins break the surface of the water, it was possible to discern a few of the features that allow researchers to identify individual animals: scars, holes and pale patches lending the animals an individual sense of character and allowing easy separation from their kin. One individual, in particular, boasting a queer pink patch on its cranium became an instant favourite, and it was interesting to hear from those aboard that she had been observed with some frequency during previous excursions. I think recognition of individuals, and the connection that undoubtedly ensues, goes some way to explaining the unrivalled passion of cetacean researchers. They are an enthusiastic and terribly knowledgeable bunch!

This weekends boat trip will certainly go down in memory as a winner. While also allowing me to easily respond to those who claim that “true wilderness” and breath-taking wild spectacles exist only on [or around] far-off shores. Indeed, my only regret is that I did not get a proper look at a dolphin leaping entirely out of the water. That said, the sight of a few individuals ‘spinning’ as they departed the waves vertically on the horizon did make for an enchanting sight against the sunny Northumbrian skyline. And already has me planning my return.

A rare record in Newcastle

European Hornets really are fearsome looking beasts: significantly larger than their more abundant cousin, the wasp, and boasting both a menacing set of mandibles – used to great effect to shred insect prey – and a particularly large stinger. They are also rather striking, clad in alternating shades of warm red, yellow and black. A factor which, when coupled with their approachable nature, makes them great fun to observe in the field.

Before today, I had never encountered hornets in North East England. Traditionally, they do not occur here: instead favouring the warmer climes of Southern England where they go about their business in mature woodlands, copses and other tree-strewn areas. The species has been spreading North in recent years, however. They have recently colonised Yorkshire, though records this far North remained absent until earlier this year when a single individual was unearthed at the The Natural History Society of Northumbria‘s Gosforth Park reserve, near Newcastle.

Now, some months later, it is safe to say that this impressive wasp has successfully colonised this particular site, perhaps representing the most Northernly breeding population in the UK? I am unsure. Either way, with multiple workers and emmerging queens now on the wing, I thought I ought pay a visit to appreciate these insects in the flesh. I was not disappointed, with a number of individuals observed making the most of some fermented banana, kindly placed out by the reserve’s warden.

European Hornet, Vespa crabro, Gosforth Park Nature Reserve

Bumper breeding season for rare waders

It was uplifting to learn that Black-tailed Godwits, the elegant wading birds at the heart of the outstanding Project Godwit initiative, have enjoyed a bumper breeding season in Southern England. Below you will find a news release from the organisations involved in the PG scheme for you to peruse at your leisure – surely we all welcome a dash of good news in our age of perpetual, environmental negativity. 

Despite spring flooding and a summer heatwave, this years’ flock of black-tailed godwits has enjoyed a bumper year thanks to a dedicated team of conservationists working as part of Project Godwit. A scheme which combines the expertise of teams from both the RSPB and the Wildfowl & Wetlands Trust (WWT).

When black-tailed godwits returned to the Fens to nest in March weather conditions were less than ideal: in fact, spring flooding covered most of the land the birds normally use at the RSPB Nene Washes nature reserve in Cambridgeshire. Desperate to begin their breeding season some of the birds resorted to laying their eggs in a field near to their traditional nesting grounds but conservationists found that some of the eggs quickly became stuck in the wet mud. Fortunately, Project Godwit already had plans to remove a number of eggs to raise chicks in special bird rearing facilities, boosting the birds’ chance of survival. So, working with the farmer who owned the field, the team collected 32 precious eggs from the farmland (in addition to 23 from the nature reserve as planned) and incubated them at WWT Welney Wetland Centre.

Project Manager Hannah Ward writes:

“When we rescued the eggs from the fields we were very worried that the chicks might not survive due to the muddy conditions of some of the eggs so it was quite a nerve-wracking wait to see if any of them would hatch. Meanwhile, our team on the nature reserve worked hard to make sure that when the water receded, there were areas where more godwits could nest in safety away from the flood.”

An amazing 38 leggy little chicks were released at Welney and the Nene Washes once they were ready to fend for themselves. Soon joining wild flocks which included 18 wild-hatched chicks and nine of the black-tailed godwits which were released as youngsters in 2017.

Nicola Hiscock, Senior Aviculturist from WWT says

“We’re thrilled with the progress the birds have made this year. In fact, two of the godwit chicks raised at Welney last year had families of their own which is a really good sign that the method we’re using, headstarting the young birds to give them the best chance in the wild, is working.”

The team were also delighted to find godwits breeding at the RSPB Pilot Project site next to the Ouse Washes, a site they’ve only bred at once before, in 2012.

Some of the birds involved in the scheme were fitted with geolocators allowing researchers to learn more about where the birds travel to in the winter. Research like this means that UK-based conservation teams can work with their equivalent organisations in other countries to ensure the birds have safe places to fly through or spend the colder months. This year ten new geolocators were fitted and two were collected from birds tagged in 2017. One of these showed that a female godwit went all the way to West Africa and back, stopping off in Spain, Portugal and Norfolk on her way before returning back to the Fens to breed.

As the godwits begin to depart for the winter, Project Godwit are calling on birdwatchers to send in sightings of the released birds, which all have a unique combination of colour leg rings. It’s easy to do this on the Project Godwit website: projectgodwit.org.uk and will help the team build up a picture of the important areas the birds need.

One of the major funding sources for Project Godwit is the EU LIFE Nature Programme. As we prepare to leave the EU, Project Godwit partners look forward to seeing how the UK Government will replace this vital source of funding for future conservation projects.

Cover image: Earith at RSPB Ouse Washes, the first headstarted bird to successfully breed.  © Jonathan Taylor RSPB.

Walking in the Yorkshire Dales, by Frances Jones

The Yorkshire village of Malham was basking in the mid-morning sunshine when we set off for a circular walk up over the hills via Gordale Scar. It was a pleasant temperature for walking and we started at a good pace, passing several other walkers out on this sunny bank holiday Saturday. Not far down the track, shaded by trees, was Janet’s Foss. The clear water pouring down from the rocks looked refreshing and incredibly clean and I felt healthy just gazing into the depths. Up and onwards, through increasingly rocky terrain, and we came to Gordale Scar, a steep cut through the rocks, through which it is possible to climb. I stood for a while, looking at the limestone around whilst keeping an eye on the walkers in front trying to scale the Scar in a dignified fashion. Nerves or sense overcame me and we opted not to risk the chance of a misplaced foot,  instead of doubling back to follow an alternative route over the hill. We wound up and up, looking back at Malham in the valley, where the annual Malham Show was now in full swing. A swallow flew across our path and we continued, past a bull sitting regally in the middle of a field for all the world like a king surveying his subjects.

We followed a path across the moor and through slightly boggy terrain before dropping down just above Malham Cove. There were peaceful views across the country; green speckled with the white of sheep and crisscrossed with dry stone walls. The limestone pavement above the Cove is striking. The gaps, or grikes, breaking the limestone into separate stones is caused by water erosion and peering down we noticed ferns and small trees, perfectly at home in the cool depths. Around 400 man-made steps took us down into to the Cove, where again, the temptation to jump into the cool water, despite it not being a hot day, was strong. A beautiful scene and one which lots of people were enjoying, from little ones hitching a ride to more senior gentlemen resting on the bank.

The following day, with driving rain and an autumnal chill in the air, I opted to go in search of nature indoors and took a train to Saltaire to visit the David Hockney exhibition, ‘The Arrival of Spring’. The exhibition is on the top floor of the old mill with views of the surrounding tree-covered hills. Bright greens in the paintings made quite a contrast with the dark grey of the ceiling and floor. The light in the gallery was enhanced by the effective lighting of the paintings and the bright shades within them. There was certainly not a great deal coming through the windows on this rain-soaked afternoon.

If you follow the paintings chronologically, as the artist intends, and not, as I did, halfway through and in a random fashion, you’ll see that Hockney captures the changing of the season, sometimes painting a scene two or three times in different shades and colours. There is more detail to be picked up than one might at first think. When I reached the exhibition’s start, I went round again and enjoyed the paintings much more now I had grasped the order. Go and see this, if you can.  A splash of well-placed colour on a rainy, dullish day made for cheery faces in Salts Mill. And if it helps us to wonder, to see more keenly the new growth that emerges as if by magic each year, that can only be a good thing.

Sunday promised a break in the rain and I set off early. I alighted from the bus at Bolton Abbey and passed through the gap in the wall that leads down to the water and the ruins of the priory. Grass and trees were bright with the wet of recent rain. I turned to walk across the bridge and up along the path that runs roughly parallel to the River Wharfe. Silver birch, oak and beech-lined the path on the steep hillside whilst mountain ash trees were also dotted around, recognisable by their red berries. There were views across the valley to the hills beyond, and the higher I climbed, the more I could see. At the highest point, I dropped down and followed the path away from the Abbey in the other direction. Here, I passed through a field where swallows ducked and dived. I stood still whilst they swooped in circles around me. A dog tried to chase one, in foolish pursuit. I followed the Dales Way along the river, through a field of munching sheep. The sun came out between the showers and cast a benign light on the calm scene. It’s possible to do a circular walk following the signposts and there are also walks marked in the other direction. Time dictated, however, that I return the way I had come so, on reaching the old road bridge, I retraced my steps back to the abbey. My time in Yorkshire was drawing to a close but I carried memories of the hills, the valleys and the swoop of the swallows all the way home.

RSPB criticised for protecting birds… fancy that?

This week, the depths of social media have been filled with grumblings of discontent aimed at the RSPB for their use of lethal control as a conservation tool on their land: to protect threatened curlew (and other ground-nesting birds), to restore woodland and to protect a suite of native fauna from damaging invasive species.

To their credit, the RSPB have acted with commendable transparency on this issue: releasing their annual report of vertebrates controlled on RSPB owned reserves and issuing a frank take on Curlew conservation, penned by Conservation Director, Martin Harper.

Criticism of the RSPB has been rife, not least from compassionate conservationists, and based on a scan of various platforms, it is safe to say that more than a few RSPB members have been left questioning their commitment to the organisation. By all accounts, it seems like the RSPB simply cannot get it right: receiving flack for ‘not doing enough’ to protect our wildlife and then, when they do take action, finding themselves lambasted for their chosen methods. It’s all rather tedious, and frustrating; especially as in this instance, the RSPB have done the right thing entirely.

Take Curlew for example. We all know that to truly save this species from extinction in the UK, landscape-scale change is required – I do not dispute that. Neither do the RSPB and as I write this, they are working to achieve just that by conducting vital research into Curlew-friendly land management options. However, we also know that in areas where changes in habitat have left birds vulnerable, and where generalist predator numbers have increased, the impact of habitat loss is drastically amplified. With corvids and foxes, in particular, greatly reducing Curlew breeding success and thus, creating the potential for localised extinctions. The final nail in the Curlew’s coffin, so to speak.

The RSPB acknowledge the need for landscape-scale change to protect Britain’s Curlew and are working to inform and enact this; though they also recognise the need for action to halt Curlew declines while long-term plans are formulated. Essentially, they are not content to merely wring their hands and wait as Curlew numbers plummet and instead have opted for a science-based approach they know runs the risk of alienating some of their members. In doing so, prioritising the protection of birds – through necessary and entirely justified means – instead of profits. Is that not what critics have pushed for all along? It is certainly what I want to see as a paying RSPB member. Action as opposed to apathy.

As I stated in a blog post a few weeks ago, whether we like it or not, the act of killing is, in many cases, the only thing which stands between a plethora of wildlife populations and collapse. It should never be undertaken lightly and absent scientific justification – as is widely available in the case of the Curlew – but is, in fact, a necessity in response to wildlife populations forced out of kilter due to long-term mismanagement of the countryside.

It is also worth pointing out that the RSPB only enact lethal control of wildlife once all other viable options have been exhausted. Demonstrated by this quote pulled from the aforementioned post by Martin Harper:

Non-lethal methods, whilst always our preferred way of doing things, are not always practical. Lethal vertebrate control on RSPB reserves is only considered where the following four criteria are met:

  • That the seriousness of the problem has been established
  • That non-lethal measures have been assessed and found not to be practicable
  • That killing is an effective way of addressing the problem
  • That killing will not have an adverse impact on the conservation status of the target or other non-target species.

There is no magic wand available that will restore the countryside to a natural state of equilibrium. There are things we can do on a case by case basis, sure: rewilding were we can and pushing for legislative change that incentivises sympathetic habitat management. We should do both of these and in the long-term, they are vital; though both take time. Time many species currently teetering on the brink simply do not have. Whether we’re talking the control of foxes to protect Capercaillie, the control of surging deer populations to protect woodland or indeed, the killing of corvids and foxes to safeguard Curlew, in many cases, action is required now.

Such action may, from time to time, be hard to swallow but ultimately, is preferable to the losses that may be incurred otherwise. At least in my opinion.

Cover image: By Charles J Sharp – Own work, from Sharp Photography, sharpphotography, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=42805097

If you enjoyed this blog, please consider voting for James in the Terra Incognita ‘Wildlife Blogger of the Year’ competition. The form for which can be found beneath the article here – please enter number 13. 

Lets talk about the Tyne Kittiwakes

If you live in the North East, doubtless you have noted the recent, and entirely justified, outcry surrounding the unfortunate deaths of a number of Kittiwakes (a globally threatened, predominately oceanic and entirely harmless species) caused by entrapment in bird deterrent netting erected on Newcastle’s Quayside. The issue has been everywhere this week, highlighted by passing birdwatchers on Twitter before spreading to other social media platforms, the pages of petition websites, environmental news outlets and the personal profiles of myriad well-known activists. It is an issue that rears it’s ugly head every year which now, only appears to be getting worse.

A current petition aiming to have the offending netting removed from Quayside buildings can be found here if, like many others, you would like to add your voice. Or find the sight of moribund birds dangling helplessly above your head as you wine and dine in any way distasteful.

Now, while some (myself included) find it both distasteful and unethical to deter nesting kittiwakes, the fact remains that the process is entirely legal. Whether we approve of it or not, businesses have a right to erect legal forms of deterrence in order to prevent birds ‘fouling’ their property. Or, in the case of the Newcastle Guildhall, from ‘damaging’ listed buildings.

What businesses do not have the right to do, however, is to roll out poorly maintained or inappropriate forms of discouragement. Something which, with so many birds finding themselves trapped and tangled, may well be the case in Newcastle today. They are also obliged to take all possible action to ensure the safe release of any birds unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped. Have these considerations been applied in this case, despite the granting of planning permission? I will let you make up your own mind.

Currently, the both the RSPCA and fire brigade are being called out with increasing frequency to free both adult birds and chicks ensnared in netting. They are doing a fine job too; though it would be foolish to think that they can save each and every bird. And in some cases, reports of entangled birds have come too late for rescue. Meaning that healthy birds, vital to the survival of a species teetering on the brink due to myriad, far-reaching factors, are dying in unnatural circumstances. As a direct result of human actions and ignorance, no less. This is unacceptable in the modern age and surely, at the very least, highlights the need for action. Particularly, for sufficient monitoring of deterrents so to ensure their compliance with the law and potentially, the erection of new breeding sites to allow extirpated birds to disperse absent harm. It also highlights a need to take action against businesses not operating to the required high standard.

For those unaware, the River Tyne is home to nearly 1,000 pairs of kittiwake, including a colony of over 700 pairs on the Newcastle/Gateshead Quayside. This is the furthest inland breeding colony of kittiwakes in the world and, in the eyes of many, forms a unique part of Newcastle’s wild heritage.

Globally, kittiwakes are thought to have declined by around 40% since the 1970s and were added to the Birds of Conservation Concern Red List in 2015. Later upgraded by the ICUN from a global species of ‘Least Concern’ to Vulnerable in 2017. In the UK, kittiwake numbers have crashed, particularly in Orkney and Shetland where breeding birds have declined by 87% since 2000, and on St Kilda in the Western Isles where as much as 96% of the breeding population has now been lost. With such declines, to a lesser but still significant extent, mirrored at colonies elsewhere.

What can you do to help the Tyne Kittiwakes? Well, you can sign the current petition, of course. You can also write directly to Newcastle City Council asking them to take action against the offending businesses; while a show of displeasure to the businesses themselves – Aveika and Premier Inn, predominately – cannot hurt. While you’re at it, why not share this issue as widely as possible: to supportive individuals, campaign groups, newspapers, magazines, television stations and anyone else likely to help. It is about time such behaviour was stopped and businesses do not like bad press…

Cover photograph by Oscar Dewhurst

Beauty amid death

As a nation, we have been conditioned to view our cemeteries as dark, macabre places. And, to a certain extent, they are – each and every one subtly different to the next, but all standing as everlasting memorials to the ephemeral nature of life, and the certainty of death. They are sombre places which, even without a deep-rooted personal connection, dampen the spirits – generating countless doubts as to whether it is proper, or indeed, acceptable, to visit them at all absent cause to mourn. At the same time, they are also rather beautiful.

I love cemeteries. A bit of a morbid thing to announce publically but true, nevertheless, as for me – stranded in an urban setting – such places provide respite, escapism and wild allure. The sacred nature of such sites meaning that they are, more often than not, spared pesticides and the flail and, instead, are left to grow wild and undisturbed. In our cities, such places provide a rare glimpse into a forgotten age and make it possible to imagine, just for a moment, that you are elsewhere. Somewhere markedly more tranquil and wild.

This week, I visited Jesmond Old Cemetery in the heart of Newcastle. A particularly impressive site, by urban standards, rife with aged yews, tree-like giant hollies and countless other gems. Each wall gripped by the tendrils of ivy and each gravestone festooned with the rust and pearl coloured flecks of lichen. With some of the more impressive stone crypts – those which one cannot gaze at without contemplating their cost – now accumulating sufficient humus to facilitate the growth of woody cranesbill, slender-leaved ragwort, campion and other treasures. All of which, combined, makes the site flaming brilliant for wildlife.

Ivy and holly formed the basis of my most recent venture: the larval food plants of the enigmatic holly blue butterfly, Celastrina argiolus. Jesmond Old Cemetary, with its abundance of both, has long been revered by local lepidopterists for being one of the few sites locally where one can catch a glimpse of this high-flying and fleet-footed butterfly. Sure enough, within moments of my arrival, my eyes were drawn a lone butterfly perched atop a headstone, sapphire wings occasionally folding so to allow observation of the species characteristic, pearl-coloured underwings. Flecked with black and most different to the much more abundant common blue.

The butterfly in question did not stay long, darting upwards as soon as my camera departed my bag and leaving me with little option but to explore the site further and see what else may be hiding among the cracked, crusted tombs. Further investigations revealing a glut of common butterflies: comma, speckled wood, small copper, green-veined white, small tortoiseshell and large white, all engrossed in the equally vital processes of feeding and breeding. Elsewhere, tree bumblebees moved between ragwort blooms and my attention fixated, for a considerable time, on some delightful, soft pink bindweed flowers. My earlier identification of Field Bindweed proving incorrect upon consultation with the botanically-minded on Twitter. No matter.

Moving further along the twisted uneven footpaths that, once upon a time before they were overtaken with brambles and pioneering saplings, formed the walkways along which mourners would have travelled, it was difficult not to note the abundance of one of my favourite wildflowers: Bittersweet. The plant’s common name taken from the taste of its berries, being at first bitter but then sickly sweet. Not that I would advise eating the fruits of this particular nightshade: they do, after all, contain solanine, an alkaloid glycoside which, when ingested, leads to vomiting and convulsions. Interestingly, the degree of harm caused by ingestion is thought to depend on the quality of the soil on which the plant grows – with light, dry soils increasing its potency.

Concluding my visit, a rather distinct ladybird drew my attention. Quite unlike anything I have seen before here in the North, it’s distinct appearance reminded me of something seen elsewhere, in France and in London. My suspicions proving justified when, upon closer scrutiny, it was revealed to be a Harlequin Ladybird – perhaps the only ladybird in the entire world maligned as opposed to adored. And also a rather damaging invasive species prophesied to bring about the downfall of native ladybird populations.

Harlequin Ladybird and larvae, brought home for closer inspection