Last night, it was revealed that New Nature Magazine has won in the ‘Green and Eco Company Category’ of the UK Blog Awards 2018, beating some seriously tough competition to take home the prestigious prize for virtual work. Hooray!
Born of a conversation between myself and managing editor, Alex Pearce, in late 2016, New Nature aims to provide an outlet for the voices and creative talents of young naturalists, embolden and support early-career conservationists and, ultimately, to hammer home the fact that, despite prevailing stereotypes, young people do in fact care for the natural world. This is something I feel we have achieved over the course of our first year (and a bit) as an e-magazine: publishing work from myriad young writers, featuring advice and guidance from some of the biggest names in conservation and even having a few of our writers selected for bigger, brighter opportunities elsewhere.
From the outset, New Nature has been about encouraging, promoting and supporting Britain’s flourishing community of young conservationists: something that, based upon the kind feedback of readers, we feel we are achieving, step by step. This award, issued in absentia at a rather glam ceremony in London is just the cherry on top. And I know I speak for each and every member of our incredible (voluntary) team when I say that we are thrilled to have been recognised among the ranks of such talented individuals and organisations. I, for one, certainly feel a certain sense of vindication that my baby is receiving such praise on a national scale – as the e-zines Founder and Managing Director, it sort of feels like a child has graduated from college. Or moved into their first house.
I am incredibly grateful to everyone that reads, downloads, shares and enjoys New Nature each month and could not thank more our supporters for their backing over our initial stint. This award has served as a serious wake-up call and an incentive to strive for greater heights in the future – something we hope to achieve by securing full-time promotional sponsors and a small degree of finances to help the magazine grow, prosper and reach more young people than ever before over the coming months and years. Though, for now, such things can wait…
If so inclined, the latest issue of New Nature can be downloaded here: goo.gl/jFZZJZ
It won’t have escaped your attention – at least if you follow me on Twitter – that, just over a month ago now, myself and my partner erected a new feeding station in the front ‘garden’ of his home in the centre of Heaton, Newcastle. Big woop, you might say; though please bare in mind that this is not exactly your typical garden. Rather a 2x2m stretch of cold, grey concrete boasting one measly shrub, positioned right next to a busy road and, worse still, outside and adjacent the front doors of multiple student abodes. Indeed, before this, we were yet to see a bird in the garden. Not a single one. Little wonder really given the constant noise and clamour.
It’s not much, really…
Well, after kitting out the towering stand of cast iron with myriad tasty morsels ranging from sunflower hearts and peanuts, to suet balls and mealworms, I have been watching the proceedings daily – spurred on by claims on social media that, no matter the location, if you provide, they will come. Something that now, after countless vigils, I know to be true.
Sure, given our location we were never going to attract the sweeping accumulations of your typical, rural garden; though what I have observed thus far has been promising. A pair of Dunnocks were first to arrive, now present daily and looking as if they are nesting in the lonely Privet pictured above. House Sparrows came next, and though their visits to date have been fleeting, they are growing in regularity – with the same being said for the Blackbirds and Blue Tits sporadically gracing us with there presence. Singles of Goldfinch and Magpie and a pair of gluttonous Woodpiegons complete the set.
Now, these scant avian visitors may do little to excite readers of this blog: those accustomed to busy feeders and great gatherings of scarce or appealing species in their gardens. To me, however, they represent a victory. A little slice of the natural world right in the heart of the city that can be enjoyed daily – though most often with a coffee in the early morning.
I wonder what will arrive next? My money is on a Robin, or perhaps a Starling; though I did observe a Collared Dove inspecting matters from a neighbours roof yesterday…
In every way, the Magnificent Frigatebird lives up to its name. This bird does not produce any of the waterproofing oils that other sea-faring birds possess; a submerged frigatebird will drown, and never can it land at sea. Yet the frigatebird enjoys a diet of fish. How?
If you’re a gull, it’s bad news to be pursued by the Magnificent Frigatebird. These aerial acrobats are masters of hairpin turns, dwarf a gull in size, and will gladly grab one on the wing, pulling out feathers or dangling their captive midair, until their prize – the gull’s catch of fish – is dropped. The frigatebird then swoops after the falling fish and snatches it midair, before dinner is lost to the ocean below.
Sabrina Salome is an amateur wildlife photographer with a passion for things with big teeth. She is dedicated to the field of conservation and in her spare time incorporates her love of wildlife into her creative expression, using writing, illustration, and photography to share with the world how she sees them. She holds a B.S. in Zoology from Michigan State University. You can find more of her work on Instagram @sabrina_salomee and contact her at salomesab28@gmail.com for photo or order inquiries.
Communal Roosts. A unique characteristic of the Long-eared Owl is its tendency to roost communally during Winter. Usually solitary, this species has been known to gather in groups of between 2 to 20 individuals, usually in thick cover, but in some locations have been observed gathering in incredibly large numbers. A prime example of one such prominent roost site is the town of Kikinda in Serbia where some observers claim to have counted upwards of 1000 owls in and around the town during colder months.
Lazy nesting. Unusual among owls, the Long-eared Owl nests on a platform as opposed to within cavities. Usually positioned high in the upper branches of conifers. While perfectly capable of constructing their own nests, this species readily utilises those abandoned by other bird species and, in the UK, often opts for disused crow or Magpie nests. Less commonly, birds have also been observed occupying the former nests of a suite of species ranging from Woodpigeons and Sparrowhawks to Grey Herons, and on more than one occasion have been found to occupy disused squirrel dreys.
Global reach. The Long-eared Owl has one of the largest breeding ranges of any owlspecies, occurring across the Northern Hemisphere from Japan in the East, through China, parts of Pakistan and Mongolia, into Russia, throughout Europe and across large parts of the USA. The species also breeds in smaller numbers in Northern Africa; whereas its Winter range extends to encompass parts of India, Mexico and the Middle-East.
Subspecies. There are presently four separate subspecies of Long-eared Owl recognised around the globe. These are the nominate A. otus, found throughout Europe, North Africa and into parts of East Asia; A. o. canariensis, found on the Canary Islands; A. o. tuftsi, found throughout Western parts of the USA, Canada and Mexico and A. o. wilsonianus found throughout Eastern parts of North America.
Folklore. In Ancient Greece, the Long-Eared Owl was considered rather unintelligent with the term “otus” used frequently to describe simpletons.
The Irish Owl. Long-eared Owls are thought to be the commonest owl in Ireland, with a scattered range throughout the whole country. Contrary to population trends in the UK which show the species to have declined substantially over recent years, the Irish owl population has increased its range by 12% in the Southwest of the country. Possibly as a result of an increase in coniferous woodland (or improved surveying methods).
Long-distance migrant. Like their cousin, the Short-eared Owl, the Long-eared Owls resident in Britain are bolstered by arrivals from the continent during Winter. Typically from Scandinavia, Eastern Europe and Russia. The BTO report that one bird, ringed in Cumbria, was found 8 months later in the Mariy region in western Russia, 3,279km from its ringing site. Whereas most of the ringed birds recorded in the UK appear to arrive from Germany. It is not uncommon to see Long-eared Owls arriving over the sea during Autumn, and they regularly seek respite on Oil-rigs and ships during the perilous North Sea crossing.
Sour relations. Perhaps more so than any other European owl species, the Long-eared Owl often falls prey to other avian predators, including other owl species. Eagle Owls and Goshawks have been shown to regularly predate this species, while Tawny Owls are known to kill the former in an effort to claim dominance over a territory and thus, a food supply. Studies have shown a suite of diurnal raptors, ranging from Sparrowhawks and Peregrines to Red Kites to actively hunt Long-eared Owls and it is safe to say that the species does not have it easy when it comes to competition with rivals. On the reverse, some studies have recorded instances of Long-eared Owls predating Little Owls.
In trouble. Following a boom in the 19th Century, the British Long-eared Owl population declined substantially during the 20th Century. Anecdotal evidence has linked this to the resurgence of the Tawny Owl population following its suppression via persecution in earlier years and it is thought that the recovery of the larger owl may be an attributing factor. The fact that Long-eared Owls are flourishing in Ireland, from which Tawny Owls are absent, lends credence to this theory. It is accepted that Long-eared Owls can coexist with Tawnies when enough natural food is present; thus the decline of this species across Britain likely relates to a change in habitat and a corresponding decline in prey species. It is thought that only 1000 pairs of Long-eared Owl now remain in the UK.
Doting dads and diet description. During the owls breeding cycle, it is the male that does most of the hunting – depositing prey at the nest before egg-laying begins, providing the female with sustenance during incubation and providing the bulk of the prey for the fledgeling birds. Of the various prey items regularly taken by this species, voles, mice, rats and shrews are the most common, making up over 90% of the diet; though the species readily predate small birds when an opportunity presents itself. Bird species taken by Long-eared Owls include Wheatear, Meadow Pipit, Chaffinch, Reed Bunting and House Sparrow; although instances of predation on Pheasant poults have been recorded.
The concept of island biogeography was first laid out by MacArther & Wilson (1967) in a book entitled ‘The Theory of Island Biogeography’. The concept was relatively simple in its key principles; that ‘islands’ that are small are capable of supporting fewer species than larger ‘islands’, and that the further away these ‘islands’ are from each other, then the less likely it is that a species is able to re-colonise once it becomes extinct.
Since the industrial revolution and Second World War, semi-natural habitats including our flower-rich meadows, heathlands, mosslands and woodlands have been lost, predominantly due to agriculture and forestry. This has left many of our plants in a rather awful predicament; huge expanses of our once flower-rich habitats have been lost, and remaining flower-rich places are in generally very isolated and small pockets of our countryside. In this case, the concept of island biogeography could be said to apply; isolated and small floristically-rich islands are both prone to extinction events, and things that are extinct, are unlikely to re-colonise. The sheer level of habitat loss that has occurred over the past century, and rate at which our flower-rich habitats are still being lost, has meant that one in three wildflowers in Britain are under threat of extinction. Additionally, per county, on average one-two species goes extinct every year in England!
Growing up as a child, one of the most infuriating memories I had each year, was to look at my county’s rare plant register which gives information on the very rarest plants in the county. Almost every year there were new extinctions; it has always been a devastating prospect that the rare, and even some of the more common plant species, could be utterly gone from the region when I am an old man…given the often immense distances other sites are where the species is present, it often will not re-colonise and will be extinct for good.
I now have over 15 years botanical cultivation and recording experience, and this same devastating prospect was the rationale for the beginnings of an initiative for my region (north-west England), the North-West Rare Plant Initiative; to put back & reinforce species on suitable sites that are on the very cusp of extinction in the region.
The North-West Rare Plant Initiative (NWRPI): aims & objectives
The NWRPI is an initiative that I formalised in August 2017 operating across Cheshire, Greater Manchester, Merseyside, Lancashire and South Cumbria. There are just under
50 target species for my initiative for which I want to reintroduce and reinforce throughout the region; this isn’t a quick process and involves lots of steps including suitability assessment, consideration of biosecurity concerns, feasibility, etc. (to view an overview of the reintroduction protocol I follow, see www.nwrpi.weebly.com). Additional to my aims involving reintroducing and reinforcing species, the NWRPI aims also to work with landowners of sites with these rare species, to incorporate more favourable management practices. It also aims to establish a national network of propagators for target species to assist in cultivation effort and to act as back-up in the very worst scenarios.
Priority Species
Although extinctions of plants at a regional level doesn’t necessarily equate to extinction at a national level, it is often a precursor to such; thus, conservation at a regional level is of paramount importance, in addition to looking at species in a national context. As well as conserving rare plants because we need to maintain a level of biodiversity, plants offer us a lot…They are the fundamental basis of all life on earth; they give us food, building materials, medicine and are shown to improve aspects of our mental health. Aside from these qualities and products plants offer, they’re just downright AMAZING…
An example of one of the species I am cultivating is Oblong-Leaved Sundew (Drosera intermedia). It is one of the more spectacular things I grow and is a carnivorous plant in the family Droseraceae. It grows on very wet, acid, nutrient-deficient peat bogs and wet heaths throughout Britain and Ireland & has fantastic tentacle-like structures with terminal mucus-producing glands. Once small invertebrates land on these mucus-covered tentacles, the plant is able to digest the organism and absorb the nitrogen content which is otherwise unavailable in the nutrient deficient peat bogs. Oblong-Leaved Sundew has unfortunately declined substantially in the region due to these peat bogs being formerly drained for forestry and excavated for peat; it now exists in often very isolated pockets of wet heath and peat bog that remain across the North-West region.
Olong-Leaved Sundew courtesy of Steven Barlow.
Into the not-so-distant future!
Within the next year of my initiative, a lot of prospective reintroductions are planned many thanks to the assistance provided by funding from individual donors and Chester Zoo. An example of one up-and-coming introduction would be the introduction of Sheep’s-Bit (Jasione montana) onto Freshfield Dune Heath, Sefton Coast. This fantastic place is a Site of Special Scientific Interest and is currently under the management of Lancashire Wildlife Trust, dominated by expanses of acid heathland and grassland. Sheep’s Bit is a species doing rather poorly in the region given its poor ability to disperse and loss of heathland and acid grassland; so bad in fact, that in 2017, the entire S. Lancashire population was down to two individual plants. Following 2017 sampling of seed from Cheshire and North Wales and permission granted by the trust, I now have a substantial number of plants ready for introduction onto Freshfield Dune Heath, close to where it had recently disappeared from.
On a final note, it should be noted that all species introductions are well justified by a stringent protocol and with the permission of relevant landowners and statutory bodies. It is important not to take any rare plant or plant things onto nature reserves. All sampling and introductions are done in strict accordance with IUCN guidelines and the BSBI code of conduct.
Uncharacteristically, I haven’t managed many far-flung ventures of late – the combined result of some drastic life changes, a busy schedule and the build-up of myriad more menial tasks. This, of course, has frustrated me to no end, boiling over with a snap decision this past Saturday to drop everything and travel outwards: inland to the wild uplands of my home county. Northumberland, for those not in the know…
Truthfully, we could not have wished for better weather on our outing: bright yet chilly sunshine, half-hearted, almost enjoyable showers and, better still, only the faintest whisper of wind making for a pleasant day as we traversed the surrounds of Harwood Forest in search of, well, anything really. The morning beginning with a flurry of excitement as, from a well known local watchpoint, we caught sight of two Goshawk’ drifting in slow circles above a bottle-green stand of Sitka and Norway Spruce. A hell of a bird, to say the least, usually elusive (often infuriatingly so) drawn out into the open due to the pressing need to court and breed. Marvellous, and a first for Matt.
Here too, no less than seven Buzzards rode the thermals – staying clear of the aforementioned hawks as they drifted upwards, casting vulturine shadows on the woodland and heath below. Joined, on this occasion, by a pair of Kestrel – engrossed in similar, amorous behaviour – and, better still, two Raven. The fabled jet-black corvids kronking loudly as they passed overhead en route elsewhere. A fabulous start to the day – the experience and refreshing feel of “proper” wilderness only amplified by the vocal antics of multiple singing Skylark; the repeated alarm calls of a particularly perturbed Red Grouse and the rich, evocative melody of a Song Thrush positioned high in a roadside conifer.
Moving briefly away from the impenetrable margins of Harwood, a female Merlin lifted from the roadside – passing a few meters in front of the car with uncanny grace before proceeding to quarter a heather-clad bank to the East. A bird I enjoyed, to no end, during my time in the Highlands of Scotland but one I see far too little of here: a moorland sprite and a sight to be savoured.
It did not take us long to reverse our earlier decision to head out over the moor: the ground was soaking, rendering our boots useless, and we quickly grew tired of the slow, squelching march. Instead, we decided on a walk through the forest itself, spending two hours or so wandering a variety of well-worn forestry tracks. Hemmed in, at times, by the hulking frames of the assorted confiders – destined for eventual felling – and, at others, liberated by open vistas and extensive woodland clearings. It was the subtle signs of the changing season that held our attention here: frogspawn in temporary forest floods and the song of countless tits, finches and thrushes; the radiant blooms of pioneering Coltsfoot and the sound of chattering squirrels concealed amid the gloom. Each and all an indicator of exciting times still to come as the year progresses.
This being a coniferous plantation – albeit one of impressive magnitude – the wildlife here was typical of such habitat. Species abundant inland yet few and far between in the coastal reaches I call home: Siskin and Lesser Redpoll in impressive numbers, rust-coloured Crossbills perched high in the canopy and a lone Green Woodpecker doing its damndest to frustrate as it called incessantly, yet remained invisible within the thick wall of encroaching trees. It’s pronounced yaffling taking on almost a taunting nature as the bird eluded us for a good quarter-hour – finally giving itself up and permitting a brief glimpse as it dropped down to the roadside a stone’s throw from our parked car.
Heading home, it was the distinct feeling of rejuvenation that defined our journey. Perhaps a result of the gradual shifts observed this day in nature, as Winter finally yields to Spring, or perhaps due to our own relief. Nature has a habit of refreshing the mind and, while they are far from perfect, our uplands boast the uncanny ability to centre the mind: casting out stresses and troubled thoughts and, ultimately, uplifting those who choose to visit.
Winters Gibbet – the site at which William Winter lost his lift for the crime of murder during the year of 1791.
As I have mentioned previously, I love blogs that address environmental issues honestly and absent the tendency to tip-toe around touchy subjects. This is exactly what I feel Simon achieves on his website; while simultaneously producing eloquently written content that inspires deeper thought on complex subjects. Rare among conservation bloggers is Simon’ refusal to pull any punches in his approach to important issues in the field (see this post regarding George Monbiot); though for those less interested in current affairs, Wildlife Phelps also showcases a great deal of the author’s awesome photography, interspersing topical pieces with evocative nature writing and trip reports from as far afield as Myanmar.
I adore a patch journal, especially one which details the often overlooked spectacles that unfold alongside the seasons. This is what Michael Griffiths achieves with the Wilden Marsh Blog: a diary-like publication tracking the ins and outs of his chosen patch in precise detail, using photography to transport the reader to his small swath of Worchestershire. I particularly like the author’s personal challenge of using three daily photographs to illustrate the daily happenings at Wilden absent the need for lengthy writing; though when lengthier posts are published, they are always a pleasure to read. This is one of the blogs that has encouraged me to looker hard at my own local patch and doubtless, should you choose to follow it, it will do the same for you.
A nature journal in its purest form, Nichola’ blog embodies everything that good nature writing should: evocative, eloquent, inspiring and able to paint an incredibly vivid picture of her forays in the wider countryside. This is not really surprising for a decorated nature writer but regardless, this blog reads like the finest of books, encouraging readers to get up, go out and explore for themselves the wonders that lie beyond our own front doors. As it has done for me, it may also inspire you to take up a pen (or keyboard, in this case) and document your travels – through replication of this marvellously lyrical blog would be impossible. It is fantastic. See this post and others in the authors’ nature notes series.
If you ever needed reassurance that the younger generation is capable, willing and motivated enough to stand up for nature, look no further than Dara McAnulty. A rising star in the environmental field who, while inspiring all of us through his fantastic deeds, maintains a pretty great blog at the same time. Young Fermanagh Naturalist shows the world through Dara’ eyes, showcasing his explorations in nature and his often on-point observations of conservation issues. Boasting uncanny written skills for one so young, Dara treads an intriguing line between traditional (and enjoyable) nature writing and honest opinion, and in doing so, creates content sure to interest everyone, young or old, no matter their interests. I could not recommend this blog enough. See this post regarding a Glossy Ibis encounter at Portmore.
Another uplifting nature blog, this time focused on the wildlife of Cardiff. What I love about Pip’ blog is the sense of enthusiasm emitted each time she writes, and the fact that her blog posts are authored less formally than those of others. Another traditionally styled nature journal, Wildly Pip details the authors’ adventures in her local area, showcasing trip reports, ecological observations and wild musings derived from time spent outdoors. Often accompanied by lovely photography, Pip’ blog posts paint an exquisite picture of the daily comings and goings of the various species to be found around Cardiff and, more importantly, are fun to read. Often lighthearted but no less enthralling than the more serious writing of others. It’s not often that an individuals personality shines through in a blog; though this is one case where I seriously believe it does. See this post regarding winter thrushes.
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Traditionally, March is the first month of Spring: a time of pleasant birdsong, early blooms and fresh, new life. This year, things appear somewhat different. Storm Emma and the Beast from the East have collided and merged and Britain, for the large part, finds itself enduring what seems to many like a second Winter. Snow blankets the floor, ice our rivers and lakes and, generally, conditions outside seem rather horrid. Both from a human perspective and from that of the wildlife set to suffer should such conditions continue. The only positive aspect of the latest bout of bad weather is that many of us, concealed in the relative warmth of our homes, now have ample time to catch up on reading…
In our March 2018 edition of New Nature you will find articles on aquatic insects (p.28), courtesy of Ele Johnson and foxes, brought to you by Abby Condliffe (p.12). Here too Liam Whitmore brings readers some top-tips for returning nature to their gardens (p.30) and Giuliana Sinclair discusses the future of the Breeding Bird Survey in her intriguing interview with Ken White, the regional BBS representative for Berkshire (p.20). Add to this talk of student activism, cetaceans and wild daffodils and it is clear that this is not an issue you can afford to miss.
Our regular features also make a welcome return in the present issue, as Alice Johnson interviews Dr Nikki Gammans, and Elliot Dowding details some of the evocative sights to be enjoyed outdoors this March. All of which goes without mention of A Focus on Nature’s own section, this time featuring an introduction to the organisation’s Scottish branch, and information regarding the renowned University Mammal Challenge.
As the ‘Beast from the East’ rages outside and many of us, against our nature, find ourselves confined indoors, why not download the latest issue of New Nature today. You can pick up a copy using (free) using the following link: https://goo.gl/wjeBjQ
If you, yourself, are interested in writing for the magazine, we welcome all submissions/pitches and would be thrilled to hear from you at editorial.newnature@gmail.com or on social media at @NewNature_Mag.
I dislike our tendency to name storms and weather fronts almost as much as I dislike our habit of blowing such things entirely out of proportion in this country. Often panicking without justification when snowflakes fall and temperatures decline ever so slightly. That said, the Beast from the East, as it has been labelled by the story-hungry media, has been pretty unique and I cannot remember a time (in my lifetime, at least) when conditions have appeared so overwhelmingly bleak. Indeed, much of this week has been spent huddled in the house, book in hand, hiding from the worst of the weather. Ignorant, some may say, to the happenings in the wider ecosystem outside.
Breaking from the norm, however, yesterday saw me wandering the wilds of my local park – Heaton, in Newcastle – with the aim of discovering the impact of the beast on my local wildlife. It was not a pretty picture. All around yesterday the signs of hardship were apparent: snow blanketed the floor almost a foot deep in places and covering vital food sources, the temperatures sat at an energy-sapping minus two degrees and areas of open water, from puddles to streams, stood frozen and still. The result being that it took some time – half an hour no less – before the first signs of life became apparent amid the icy desolation.
Weather such as this, of the kind raging outside at present, poses a significant threat to many forms of wildlife; though none more so than small birds – the passerines who must feed near constantly in order to sustain themselves and generate enough body heat to see out our frigid Winter nights. When snow falls, food sources are concealed and untold numbers of birds perish. Indeed, it is frightening to think of just how many creatures must surely have died over the past few days. From tiny Goldcrests to thrushes and riparian wagtails, many must surely have met their demise during the beast. In the wider countryside, in our cities and even in our very own gardens.
On the subject of Goldcrests, I had not expected to see any yesterday; though the sight of two birds feeding at ground level atop the snow proved sobering. The tiny passerines, sporting their sunshine yellow crests, hopping deftly over the crystalline surface, appearing to snatch unseen morsels from the ground before scampering up into the lower branches of a Holly. Doubtless in search of the meagre few spiders and other insects not banished by the cold. It was heartening, truth be told, to see the crests persevering in spite of the weather, and amazing to think that such a small bird can survive such inclement weather at all.
Elsewhere in the park, life appeared equally hard for other species of birds. Usually, timid Blackbirds threw caution to the wind as they fed and dug in close proximity to dog walkers – hunger overriding better sense, in this case. Here too, Woodpigeons had gained confidence, joining their feral kin in enjoy scraps from a small child’s sandwich; while an unruly mass of thrushes – Redwing, Blackbird and Song Thrush – squabbled and fought over the scant Cotoneaster berries still adorning a bush towards the Western periphery of the park. One particular Redwing, set apart from the scrum, providing perhaps the most poignant testament to the hardship of the season: unmoving as I approached and appearing sleepy, lethargic. The bird – shown below – seeming spent, sluggish and beaten – waiting on its branch for the inevitable to a happen. A sorry fate for a bird which arrived in this country back in September hoping to escape the rampant weather of Northern Europe.
Departing and leaving the Redwing to its fate – whatever that may be – I wondered what had become of the parks other avian residents. The tits, finches, robins and wrens usually abundant yet strangely absent during the mornings’ foray: I soon found them. A chance wander into a quieter corner of the park revealing a scene of hope. Here, amid a particularly dense tangle of trees, some person, some saint, had placed out bird feeders. Filled to the brim with sunflower seeds, peanuts and other treasures, they had not gone unnoticed by the birds and myriad species fed en masse, vying for position at times yet oddly at ease with each other. Doubtless the result of the harsh conditions.
Here, the most noticeable deviation from the norm came from the Robins: with no less than ten birds feeding in close proximity. Usually territorial, these birds appeared to accept one another, lashing out half-heartedly at times, yet, by large, much more tolerant. Hunger can work wonders for neighbourhood spirit it seems.
Gazing through the throng surrounding the various seed dispensers, it was the diversity of the accumulation that struck me most of all. It appeared that half of the woodland had descended, keen to make the most of this vital food source. Blue and great tits too numerous to count cackled in the upper branches, occasionally dropping down to feed, Dunnock’s snagged spilt seed from the snowy ground in the company of Blackbirds and a male Great Spotted Woodpecker lorded over its preferred feeder, it’s presence deterring the other species who waited patiently on the outskirts. Add to these countless chaffinches, a pair of Stock Dove and singles of Redwing, Nuthatch and Jay, and there was more than enough to keep me enthralled throughout the morning. Though, as ever, my favourites (if I am allowed favourites) were the Bullfinches – three of which dropped in repeatedly during my stay and even posed for a few acceptable photos.
Late discovery. The Willow Tit and the much more abundant Marsh tit are incredibly difficult to tell apart, even by professional birders. They are so similar, in fact, that they were once mistakenly believed to be a single species. Indeed, the Willow Tit was the last regular British breeding bird to be identified – only named in 1897. This split was largely due to observed differences in the calls of both species: Marsh Tits uttering a sneeze-like pitchou call, and Willow Tits a harsher zee-zurzur-zur.
Spot the difference. As time progressed, a number of ways to tell apart Marsh and Willow Tits were identified. For example, the cap of the former appears glossy compared to the duller tones of the willow, whose cap also extends further on to the nape. Similarly, the Marsh tits possess a larger bib; while the white cheeks of the Willow are often larger and more conspicuous than that of the Marsh. Additionally, Willow Tits also show a pale wing panel caused by the pale edging of the bird’s secondary wing feathers.
Habitat preference. Despite their name, marsh tits are known to prefer drier habits and are often found in expansive areas of broadleaf woodland – especially those boasting a prominent shrub-layer. Willow Tits, on the other hand, are associated with wetter areas, including wet-woodland. They are more likely to be seen in conifer forests also and are the species most likely encountered on disused industrial sites and wasteland areas boasting a healthy shrub layer. The Willow tit is absent from Ireland and much of Scotland but is known to occur further North than it’s close cousin.
Yet more confusion. In the past, the Willow Tit was considered to be conspecific with the Black-capped Chickadee of North America – another ascetically similar species. Confusion between the two species can be observed in the Peterson Field Guide to Birds of Britain and Europe. Here, the American species is listed as an alternate name for Willow Tit while, in reality, both species (alongside the Marsh tit and Carolina Chickadee) are only similar in appearance.
Conservation priority. Myriad reasons have meant that the British Willow Tit population has declined by 94% since 1970, with the species now completely absent from former haunts in the South-East and elsewhere in Britain. Populations in the North of England have suffered declines also but are clinging on due to the natural regeneration of wet scrub on old industrial land. Currently, the UK’s Willow Tit population is estimated at 3400 pairs, making this species on of the most pressing conservation issues in the UK today.
Susceptible to eviction. Evidence suggests that competition from Blue and Great Tits could be a major factor contributing to the decline of the Willow Tit in the UK. Willow Tits nest in cavities excavated from dead wood, with the nest building process often proving to be a very noisy affair. This, coupled with the obvious visual implications and the production of visible byproducts such as wood chips, means that excavating Willow Tits are vulnerable to detection from both the species previously mentioned. Both of which can extirpate the occupants of a nest with relative ease.
Are woodpeckers to blame? Once a nest hole has been excavated and lined, Willow Tits can still be noisy around their breeding site, leaving them vulnerable to detection by Great Spotted Woodpeckers, which are accomplished at extracting prey from rotten wood. Willow Tits are single-brooded and if predation occurs at the chick stage, the pair is extremely unlikely to breed again that year. Numbers of Great Spotted Woodpeckers have increased dramatically in the UK (by 314% between 1970 and 2006), and
Willow Tits may have suffered a corresponding increase in predation rate.
Habitat loss. Despite a steep population decline, Willow Tits can still occur at relatively high densities in some brownfield sites where wet-scrub habitat is plentiful. Such disused industrial sites have, however, become less common in recent decades due to development, agriculture and natural regeneration. It is assumed that habitat loss is the primary driver of Willow Tit declines across Britain. Over-browsing by deer, which limits the regrowth of the species preferred wet-scrub, is almost certainly worsening the problem at many sites.
Novelty woodpecker. Willow Tits are the only British tit species to excavate a new nest hole each breeding season, with much of the work usually carried out by the female bird. Nests are positioned usually around a metre above the ground in a rotten stump and are established by the hen bird through boring and chiselling at the wood – prying off small chippings until the hole is widened sufficiently to enable breeding. Such nests are often lined with soft materials such as fur, moss or narrow strips of bark fibre. The particular nature of Willow Tit nests means that they seldom inhabit nest-boxes; though some people have successfully attracted the species by lining boxes with sawdust.
Claim to fame. The Willow Tit was featured in Gilbert and Sullivan’s 1885 operetta, The Mikado, in the song Willow Tit Willow. Sam the Eagle and Rowlf the Dog performed this in the first season of The Muppet Show.
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The ‘Newcastle Diaries’ are intended as a new series of blog posts brought to life by a recent move to the city; inspired by a growing frustration at not being able to visit my regular, rural haunts half as often as I would like. While I assumed a move here would greatly decrease the time I spend in nature, quite the opposite has happened. And I find myself growing increasingly fond of the city and her wildlife. Heading back to this blog’s roots as a patch diary, I hope to share my experiences wildlife watching around my new, urban patch (the whole city, to be precise) with regular blog readers.
Diligently maintained by the Natural History Society of Northumbria since 1929, Gosforth Park Nature Reserve is, without a doubt, the jewel in the crown of the scant few wild places remaining in and around Newcastle. Indeed, when walking in the dappled shade cast by the sites many imposing trees, or engulfed in swaying growths of Phragmites, it is quite possible to imagine yourself elsewhen – in a time when nature still reigned supreme across the landscape. The sights and sounds of the city located a mere stone’s throw away drowned out entirely by nature – lost in a chorus of birdsong, creaking trunks and soggy, squelching footsteps. Truth be told, Gosforth is a rather beautiful site and one I was keen to explore in greater depth this week.
Walking the woodland tracks of Gosforth before noon, I was pleased to see that the intermittent bouts of rain tumbling from the heavens had not disturbed the wildlife. Mere moments after arrival, my eyes greeted by sight of a Great Spotted Woodpecker pair cork-screwing around the trunk of a denuded oak, clearly in the midst of some energetic, amorous pursuit. The male – as told by the conspicuous red blaze behind his head – clearly feeling somewhat frisky as the Spring draws ever closer. He was not the only one: a yaffling Green Woodpecker off to the East, a singing Goldcrest and the repetitive chanting of countless Great Tits likewise signalling the forthcoming shift from Winter to Spring.
While the birds of Gosforth gave plenty of hope for things to come, the woodland itself gave few. Trees, with the exception of a few intrepid, Catkin bearing, Hazels, still dormant; with scant botanical offerings on the ground to be seen. Still, the lack of cover appeared to work in my favour on this occasion – the characteristic white-rump of a Roe Deer easily picked out among from amid the trees. It’s owner – a doe – promptly joined by three more of her kin, all of whom preceded to wander, in a most un-deer-like fashion ever closer. Stopping, eventually, to ogle their admirers before ambling, with no sense of haste nor fear, back in the opposite direction. A memorable encounter, to say the least, and one which even gave rise to a few hurried photographs.
Evidently, the parks Roe Deer like to use the same time-honoured pathways utilised by human visitors – slot marks and, in some instances, droppings, visible for a good quarter-mile stretch of our journey. Made visible by the lack of lower-vegetation, and the gradual rot of the assorted leaves which once carpeted the ground.
Here too the tracks of Badgers were visible, rounded with distinct claw-marks, covering some distance and culminating in the familiar sight of broken-ground – doubtless where the mustelids foraged in search of forms sometime before our arrival. Badgers are not a species I expect to see within the city limits anytime soon; thus, for now, relics of their nocturnal activity will suffice.
Having departed the woodland temporarily, only after taking heed of a passing flock of Siskin, I soon found myself casting my eyes over a frigid and very empty lake. Almost beating a retreat after ten-minutes of expectant yet futile scanning. I am glad I did not, however, the sight of a rounded head surfacing on the fringes of the reeds, and the ensuing flick of a meaty tail as the creature dived, heralding the arrival of the Otter. A dog, to be precise, which fished for sometime around the frozen margins, appearing to break the crystalline film of ice as it rose and fell. Never once casting an eye in our direction. I’m sure it saw us, despite the screen – I was not exactly shy in my excitement.
At one point, marking perhaps the most comical yet exciting moment of the trip, the Otter departed the water entirely onto the ice. Climbing out and showing himself in all his glory. That is before the surface gave way and he plopped head and front-paws first back into the water. Clearly, it was not so cold last night as to warrant a “proper” coating of ice.
I hate to use the same phrase twice – at least knowingly – but the sight of an Otter really was the jewel in the crown of an already enjoyable visit. A crowning glory, seldom seen and definitely an experience to savour.
Following our success at Gosforth, a brief jaunt to Newcastle’s rural fringe ensued leading us quickly to Prestwick Carr. A site I visit often which, once again, yielded superb views of Willow Tit – never to be taken for granted given the state of the wider population of these underrated passerines. Here too, Buzzards mewed overhead, a charming mixed flock of Yellowhammer and Reed Bunting fed among the amassed feet of some local goats, and a squadron of Golden Plover passed overhead, seemingly on route further inland. To their heather-clad breeding grounds, I suspect.
Willow Tit: not half as vibrant yet equally as charming
It’s been a very busy time lately with lots of interesting environmental news being released this month. Don’t worry if you missed any of it though as, in this issue of New Nature, Abby Condliffe gives us 10 easy ways to help the environment right now (p.26), and our own Emma Pereira recaps the government’s 25 Year Environment Plan (p.41; looking at just how connected all of us are to the natural world. Later, Lucia Speroni rounds everything off by looking at the impact of plastic in the North Atlantic (p.30).
We still have our regular features too and, in this issue,, Alice Johnson interviews wildlife photographer and filmmaker, Jake Perks (p.38), and finds out just what it takes to make it in the photography industry. While, for photography a little closer to home, we have Matt Livesey extolling the benefits of winter photography and explaining why we should all be braving the cold this month for the perfect shot (p.44). Elsewhere, Elliot Dowding tells us what fantastic wildlife there is to look out for in the month of February (p.8) and explains why he thinks the earwig is a truly underrated species. Let us know on our Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/NewNatureMag/) if you agree with his choice!
The articles mentioned above are only the tip of the iceberg this month and, elsewhere, we have features on everything from rural sheep farming in Scotland (p.22), to urban foxes in Bristol (p.14). It is another fantastic edition and we are hugely grateful to everyone who has written for us this month. So, if it is cold and miserable outside, go put the kettle on and settle down for an enthralling and entertaining read!
Words by Scott Thomson – Content Editor
You can download the latest edition of New Nature here (https://goo.gl/ad1q2r) and find out more about our current young writer’s competition, judged by the phenomenal Robert MacFarlane. If you would like to see your work published in New Nature, photos, articles and art all included, do not hesitate to get in touch at editorial.newnature@gmail.com
There is still time this weekend to take part in the RSPB’s annual Big Garden Birdwatch – a fabulous (and fun) scheme which contributes greatly to the knowledge surrounding our garden birds. Highlighting current trends, increases, decreases and eruptions in avian populations through the power of citizen science. To take part, you only need a garden or, for those of you like me lacking in this regard, a local greenspace.
For my BBGW efforts this year I focused on two urban parks in Newcastle, dedicating an hour of my time to each over the course of this morning. The first, Iris Brickfield Park, is more or less your typical urban greenspace, boasting little more than an extensive field, a small pond and a series of scrubby areas. Surrounded entirely by housing, the results of the survey here (shown below) were more or less typical for this type of setting.
As you can see, seven of the species seen here also featured in the national top ten from 2017. Albeit in a somewhat different order. For example, my most numerous species, the Goldfinch, features at number one here compared to number six nationally; while House Sparrow takes the number six spot compared to number one nationally. It is little wonder Goldfinch snatched the top spot – they have, after all, increased substantially over recent years – though it was still heartening to record at least some Starlings and House Sparrows. Here Coal tit just edged out the remaining two species seen on my visit – Feral Pigeon and Great Tit – to secure its place in the top ten.
My second site was – Heaton Park – was a much more appealing prospect for a bird survey; boasting no end of mature trees, dense cover and even a small stream on its peripheries. The diversity of the habitat hearing resulting in the surprise addition of Kingfisher to this mornings list (my first in the city) and two Moorhens. Still, if you look at the results below, they remain somewhat true to the national trends…
Here, Goldfinch again snatched the top spot – owing to the charm of fifteen birds putting in an appearance towards the end of my watch – and Woodpigeon, Blue Tit, Blackbird and Carrion Crow featured prominently, once again. At number four on my list, Blue Tit matches its position in the national rankings from last year.
Today’s results are more or less what I expected from this years BGBW (minus the Kingfisher), though there were a few notable omissions. Bullfinch, usually abundant here, were completing absent, as were Greenfinch – little wonder given the state of the wider population. Similarly, not one Collared Dove, Chaffinch or Song Thrush was seen during the course of the morning; although this was offset somewhat by the appearance of Long-tailed Tit and Great Spotted Woodpecker.
This may not be interesting to you guys at home, but to me, it’s positively riveting.
The enigmatic High Brown Fritillary, the UK’s most endangered butterfly, has been thrown a vital lifeline in 2018 through the creation of a new conservation project led by the National Trust and partners. With the charity now embarking on an ambitious plan to develop 60 hectares of lowland heath and wood pasture – the butterfly’s principal habitat – to give it a fighting chance for the future. The project has been made possible as part of a £750k award made to the Trust by players of People’s Postcode Lottery.
Over the last 50 years, the UK population of High Brown Fritillaries has declined rapidly due to changes in woodland management and, more recently, the abandonment of marginal hill land. Butterflies, including the High Brown Fritillary, need large areas of the countryside to survive in good numbers, and their populations have struggled where these habitats have been overwhelmed by pressures from agriculture and development. Additionally, it is thought that climate change and nitrogen deposition from the atmosphere are almost certainly contributing to the High Brown’s demise. Overall, the UK population has declined by 66% since the 1970s.
The £100k project will focus on restoring parts of the natural landscape along the Exmoor and North Devon coast to make it more suitable for the butterfly. Other wildlife including the Heath Fritillary, Nightjar and Dartford warbler will also benefit, it is thought.
Matthew Oates, National Trust nature expert and butterfly enthusiast, said, “We’ve witnessed a catastrophic decline of many native butterfly populations in recent decades but initiatives like this can really help to turn the tide. Combined with increased recording and monitoring efforts, there is significant hope for some of our most threatened winged insects.
The support we have from players of People’s Postcode Lottery for nature conservation, alongside continued support for Heritage Open Days, is a wonderful boost to our work in 2018.”
Jenny Plackett, Butterfly Conservation’s Senior Regional Officer, said: “We’ve been working with the National Trust for many years to reverse the declines in the High Brown Fritillary on Exmoor, and I’m thrilled that players of People’s Postcode Lottery are supporting important management work in this landscape. Exmoor’s Heddon Valley supports the strongest population of High Brown Fritillary in England, but even here the butterfly remains at risk, and ongoing efforts to restore habitat and enable the butterfly to expand are crucial to its survival.”
As well as helping secure the future of High Brown Fritillaries, the £750k award from players of People’s Postcode Lottery will be used to fund several other National Trust conservation projects, along with continuing support for Heritage Open Days. They include:
Woodland management, pond creation, building bat boxes and installing infra-red cameras to monitor bat populations in the South Downs.
Restoring wildflower meadows along the Durham coast to help ground nesting birds such as skylarks and lapwings.
Planting hornbeam, beech and field maple trees at Woodside Green near Hatfield Forest.
Restoring grasslands and wildflower meadows along the North Pembrokeshire coast, helping birds including chough.
Protecting and restoring chalk grasslands at the White Cliffs of Dover, following players’ support towards the acquisition of land immediately behind the cliff face in 2017.
Header Image: Matthew Oates, courtesy of National Trust images.
