Yet more great nature blogs to follow in 2018

Wildlife Phelps, by Simon Phelps

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.

The Wilden Marsh Blog, by Michael Griffiths

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.

Self-titled, by Nichola Chester

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.

Young Fermanagh Naturalist, by Dara McAnulty

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.

Wildly Pip, by Pip Gray

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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New Nature – the ‘mad March’ edition

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.

 

The eye of the beast

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.

 

 

Top 10 Facts: Willow Tit

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 jewel in the crown

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

New Nature: Issue 14

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

RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch – My Results

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.

UK’s most endangered butterfly thrown a lifeline by the National Trust

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.

Great nature blogs to follow in 2018 (Part 1)

Why not also check out my Top Conservation Twitter Accounts to Follow in 2018….

Thinking Country, by Ben Eagle

Ben’s blog is fast becoming my go-to resource for unbiased, pragmatic commentary on rural issues (particularly those associated with agriculture). Hailing from a farming background and focused on promoting dialogue and thus, bridging the gap between all facets of the environmental community, Thinking Country features opinion, personal musings and guest posts on everything from soils to sustainability and land-use. It is well worth a read for those looking to broaden their understanding of often complicated environmental issues. Regular forays into alternate fields such as seasonal recipes and book reviews, as well as Ben’s status as a damn good writer, help ensure that a visit to this blog is seldom boring.

Wildlife and Words, by Elliot Dowding

Elliot is a 23-year-old amateur naturalist and posts regularly on a range of topics including nature conservation and birdwatching. Unlike some of the others on this list, Wildlife and Words focuses greatly on the authors own perception of and experiences in nature – something which often leads to some excellent creative writing on the subject. Much of which, such as this post about the Mistle Thrush, reads just as well as any natural history book or author’s column. This blog gives a top-notch account of the seasons and helps readers enjoy wildlife-spectacles absent personal observation. I really could not recommend it more.

Knee Deep in Nature, by James Miller

The first (but not the last) younger naturalist to appear on this list, James Miller maintains Knee Deep in Nature as a personal journal. One detailing his exploits in the natural world through no end of fantastic photos, film, art and writing. Reading this blog is a sheer pleasure – largely due to James’s infectious enthusiasm for all things wild – but visiting serves a far greater purpose also: it shows that some young people, despite prevailing stereotypes, do care about the environment. By following the author’s progress, adventures and observations, as I do, you will be left feeling altogether optimistic for the future survival of the natural history. See this post regarding The Devil’s Coach Horse.

My Life Outside, by Adam Tilt

Continuing the trend of more traditional, observational blogs, My Life Outside details just that: the author’s adventures in the natural world. And in doing so, inspires readers to get up, go out, and look harder in search of wild allure. Adams blog has been around for some time now and forms a cornerstone of the UK Nature blogging community, allowing readers to live experiences they have yet to enjoy themselves and travel to places they have never visited. Written exceedingly well and often featuring some fantastic photography, this is the perfect blog for those seeking a natural fix when circumstances prevent you seeking out your own. See this post regarding Bramblings.

Kate on Conservation, by Kate Snowdon

Kate on Conservation is pretty unique among the nature blogs I regularly indulge in, focused on conservation in an international, as opposed to a local context. Indeed, as someone enthused primarily by British wildlife, I seldom read such sites, but this is the exception. Kate’s blog representing the perfect place to keep up to date with the latest happenings in global conservation, inform yourself about overseas projects and developments and, ultimately, learn how you, personally, can do something for wildlife. The author’s experience as a journalist really shines through when reading this blog, as does her enthusiasm for the world around her, and whether you are looking to broaden your own horizons or learn something new, I could not extol its virtues more if I tried. See this post regarding Jumbo the Elephant.

Wader Tales, by Graham Appleton

It is a rare blog that teaches you something new each and every time you visit, and a scarcer one still that manages to make complex research both comprehensible and enjoying to the average person. This, however, is exactly what Graham Appleton manages to do with Wader Tales, a blog which, in the authors own words, aims to celebrate wading birds and wader research. I, personally, found Graham’s blog extremely useful as a student looking to write about the topics covered here, but the subject matter featured on Wader Tales, and the way in which articles are presented and written, mean that everyone, not just those boasting prior knowledge of the field, are able to learn about the latest happenings in the field of wader research. Little wonder that this blog is so popular.

Well, that was part one of my 2018 reading list and I hope I have done those featured some level of justice with my comments. Of course, if you’re bored, you could also follow this blog…

Top 10 Facts: Lords and Ladies

Unwelcome guests. In Theatrum Botanicum, published in 1629 by John Parkinson, the author lists two recipes for Wild Arum (otherwise known as Lords and Ladies), suggesting that small pieces of the root can be mixed with lettuce and endive and that the dried root should be sprinkled, sparingly, over meat. He recommends these recipes for the unbidden unwelcome guest to man’s table because it will so burn and prickle his mouth that he will not be able to eat one bit more or scarce speak for pain. (source)

Don’t overdo it. Many members of the Arum family, including this variety, are known to be mildly toxic due to the oxalates contained in various parts of the plant. These fine crystals can irritate the skin, mouth, tongue, and throat, resulting in throat swelling, breathing difficulties, burning pain, and a stomach upset; while consumption of the plants appealing red fruit can be especially dangerous – resulting in a tingling sensation in the mouth moments after eating it and later, poisoning. Thankfully, the acrid taste of the Arum fruit means that the large quantities required to do serious harm are seldom eaten.

Notable incidents.  During a four year period between 1996 and 1999, there were 23 hospital visits as a result of Arum poisoning; though none of these resulted in serious harm. During this time, a young child who consumed the fruits of the plant was given a block of salt to eat so to ensure she vomited them up – all she remembers now is the awful taste of the salt. In a similar case, a young woman who consumed a leaf from Wild Arum was treated for a serious burning sensation in her mouth which lasted for a number of days. There have been no recorded fatalities from the species during modern times.

Only for the brave. An account from Dioscorides written in the first century AD suggests that the leaves of Wild Arum are excellent eaten as a cooked vegetable (unadvisable). Throughout history, however, it was the tuberous root of the plant that was most commonly eaten due to its high starch content (think of a poisonous potato). The tubers of Arum can be dried, heated and ground into a fine substance historically known as Portland Powder and used as a treatment for gout. This process gets rid of the roots aridity and toxic sap; with the final product known to be both a diuretic and a stimulant.

The height of fashion. Another name for Wild Arum is Starchwort, derived from the plant’s starchy tubers used during Elizabethan times to bind the decorative cuffs and ruffs that were fashionable during the Renaissance. It is said that the hands of poor laundresses who regularly worked with the root were often chapped and blistered because of it. Additionally, powered Arum root was one of the key ingredients of Cyprus Powder, used by Parisian ladies as a cosmetic treatment to whiten the skin. It did, however, have to be washed copiously so to avoid any irritation. (Source)

Wild Arrum, By Frank Vincentz – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3195268

Indecent Appeal. Many of Wild Arums common names derive from the similarities between the spathe and spadix of the plant and male and female human genitalia. Rural people in England claim that the name of the plant is really Cuckoo’s Pintle, meaning Cuckoo’s Penis, and it was believed in 1930’s Dorset that if a young girl touched the plant they would soon fall pregnant. It has been suggested that this particular myth stems from a reference in John Lyly’s 1601 play, Love Metamorphosis.

Ingenious reproduction. Arum flowers sport a ring of hairs that serve to trap flying insects, particularly Owl-Midges, attracted to the flower by its unpleasant, faecal odour and a temperature up to 15°C warmer than the air around it. Once trapped, visiting insects are dusted with pollen before escaping and transferring their load to female flowers elsewhere.

Unpalatable to (most) animals. The leaves of Wild Arum, which give off a disagreeable odour when bruised, have been found to be unpalatable to grazing animals; while pigs that have consumed fresh Arum tubers have suffered mild cases of poisoning. Gilbert White, however, suggests that during severe bouts of snowy weather that the roots of Arum are scratched up and consumed by a variety of thrush species, and that the berries are regularly eaten by several species of bird – particularly by pheasants. (Source)

Religious significance. Wild Arum has been labelled as the Holy Grail of the Hedgerow due to the suggestion that the flower grew under the cross of Christ, catching some of his blood as he was crucified. Elsewhere, the nuns residing at Syon Abbey during 1440 used the starch from Arum root to bind altar cloths and other church linens, later imposing rules which ensured communion linen could only be made this way. (Source)

Repackaged. The Victorians were not fond of the sexual connotations associated with Wild Arum and tried to promulgate the name Our Lord and Our Lady in its place. This was based on the suggestion that the spathe of the plant represented the Virgin Mary using her cloak to shield the infant Jesus, himself represented by the spadix. This rebranding of Wild Arum was helped along by a game played by English children to see which flower bloomed first in Spring, the Lord or the Lady, differentiated by the colour of the stamens.

Top 10 Facts: Yew

Historic significance. One of the oldest wooden artefacts ever discovered by modern humans was made from Yew – a spearhead found in Essex dated at approximately 450,000 years of age. This particular spearhead was unearthed in 1911 at Clacton-on-sea and represents not only the oldest wooden find from the UK but one of the most significant worldwide.

Warfare. Yew wood is extremely hard-wearing and , as a result, was used frequently during the Middle Ages to make the renowned English Longbow – a weapon that helped the English win many historic battles. Particularly those during the Hundred-Year War. The traditional construction of a longbow consists of drying the yew wood for 1 to 2 years, then slowly working the wood into shape, with the entire process taking up to four years. The demand for yew wood in England was, at one point, so great that it depleted stocks across a huge area of the UK, resulting in the subsequent importation of Yew from the continent.

Toxicity. All parts of the Yew, with the exception of its bright red fruit, are known to be toxic, and over the centuries, there have been numerous fatalities as a result of Yew poisoning. Among these, the 2014 incident involving the unfortunate death of Ben Hines. Yew was also used by the Celtic Chieftain Catuvolcus (53 BCE) as a means of suicide so to avoid becoming a roman slave. In a similar way, the historian Orosius notes that when the Astures were besieged at Mons Medullius, they preferred to die by their own swords or by the yew poison rather than surrender. By all accounts, a death by yew poisoning is a rather grizzly one.

Cancer treatment. Despite its toxic reputation,  a chemical found in yew – taxol – has been found to have anti-cancer effects. These chemicals have since been synthesised and are now being used in the treatment of breast, ovarian and lung cancers.

Ties with Christianity. The Druids regarded yew as sacred and planted it close to their temples. As early Christians often built their churches on these consecrated sites, the association of yew trees with churchyards was perpetuated, suggesting that the renowned ties between the yew and Christian holy places is, in fact, a myth. With trees simply being left to their own devices and seldom disturbed due to the human significance of said sites. It is also suggested that early Christian’s continued the tradition of planting yews on holy land so to placate those whose religion had been replaced by Christianity.

A long history of death. The yew has been viewed as symbolic of death, sorrow and sadness since Egyptian times. They used its foliage as a symbol of mourning and, as such, the myths surrounding the tree were passed into both Greek and Roman cultures. With the Romans using the wood of the yew to fuel funeral pyres. It is thought that much of the funereal significance of the Yew in Britain came from the influence of the Romans, as well as the aforementioned pagans.

Key to Immortality. Yews can live for upwards of 3000 years. This is due to a number of ingenious techniques that the tree uses to ensure its longevity. Among these, the new shoots put out at the base of the trunk which form buttresses, of sorts, stabilising the main trunk and protecting it from harm. When the main trunk of the yew eventually dies, these shoots may rise to form a new tree. Yew’s are also frequently found to possess internal roots, put down by branches into the decaying heart of the tree; thus allowing for the formation of new trees even when the main body of the original yew has perished. Additionally, when yew branches reach the ground they can become embedded, taking root and leading to the growth of a separate tree connected underground to the old one. Some of the world’s oldest yews have survived in this way – continuing as fragmented trees, even when the original plant has died.

Yew berries spotted on a walk near Bedlington

Fungi. Only one fungus is regularly found on the yew, the yellow polyporus sulphureus, otherwise known by its common name of Chicken of the Woods.

Cultivars. Yew is a popular choice with horticulturists due to its landscaping and ornamental value and well over 200 cultivars have been named. The most popular of these being the Irish yew (T. baccata ‘Fastigiata‘), a cultivar of the European yew selected from two trees found growing in Ireland. There are also several forms with yellow leaves, collectively known as golden yews. In some locations, e.g. when hemmed in by buildings or other trees, an Irish yew can reach 20 feet in height without exceeding 2 feet in diameter at its thickest point, although with age many Irish yews assume a fat cigar shape rather than being truly columnar. (source)

Record-breaker. The Fortingall Yew, found in the churchyard of the village of Fortingall in Perthshire, Scotland, is thought to be one of, if not the oldest tree in Britain – estimated at between 2000 and 3000 years of age. The tree once held the record for the largest girth of any British tree (16 meters) but has since succumbed to natural decay, splitting into several separate stems via the methods mentioned previously. As a bonus fact, it is also suggested that Pontius Pilate was born in its shade and played there as a child.

A tentative step in the right direction | Some thoughts on the 25-year Environment Plan

This past week, and to an equal mix of fanfare and apprehension, the government released its long-awaited 25-year plan to improve the environment. A full outline of which can be found here, for those interested. I would advise all to have a read.

The plan, launched in style by the PM herself, sets out a long-term plan designed to help the natural world regain and retain good health; aiming to deliver clean air and water, protect and restore threatened wildlife populations, provide better habitat and cut pollution. Altogether it calls for an approach to agriculture, forestry, fishing, land-use and, of course, Brexit that emphasises the value of a healthy natural environment. Even going as far as to stress the importance of engaging people in their natural ecosystem and making a number of promises with regards to international conservation.

Now, despite the (arguably) good intentions underpinning the plan, many people – hailing predominately from the environmental field – have been quite critical of it. Some, like young conservationist and campaigner Georgia Locock, have branded it underwhelming. Highlighting the government’s avoidance of controversial (yet important) issues such as illegal wildlife crime, the current badger cull and fracking. Others, notably Ben Stafford, head of campaigns at WWF, have pointed out the absence of any mention of the hard legislation necessary to enforce new measures, a sentiment echoed by Stephanie Hilborne, Cheif Executive of the Wildlife Trusts. This view of the plan, as fundamentally lacking in substance and a tad vacuous, appears to summarise the general reception of the strategy, with others also taking issue with the time-span at the heart of it.

All of these concerns are perfectly valid and I, personally, share many of them. Particularly the worries regarding time-span – how likely are we to have a Tory government in two years, nevermind twenty-five? Who is to say the plan, in its entirety, will not be abandoned upon the next general election? I cannot say for certain, nor can anyone else. Similarly, the lack of mention of any specific legislation raises some question and, until such is given, the plan itself is only hypothetical. Perhaps the omission of such is due to the uncertainty surrounding Brexit, but either way, the lack of anything concrete leaves environmentalists two choices: wholeheartedly believe the promises of reigning politicians (fat chance), or view the plan with scepticism. Most will air on the latter side, as will I.

I also have some serious reservations regarding the creation of the New Northern Forest mentioned in the plan; though I discussed this at length in a previous blog post.

While I share the worries voiced regarding the government’s plan, I still cannot help but feel somewhat positive following its publication. The fact that the Tory party has dedicated the time and effort to form a relatively comprehensive report on nature can be viewed as a monumental leap in the right direction. Especially given their track record on the environment – ignorance towards wildlife crime and peat degradation, the flawed nature of the UK badger cull, fracking, HS2, failure to manage our forests and the like. The fact that the environment, an issue consistently overlooked during election campaigns, is now garnering such attention is outstanding. Heck, even the involvement of our embattled Prime Minister is positive – normally these things are left to the secretary of state or the various minions associated with him/her. Is this increased emphasis on the environment merely a tactic to appeal to voters, particularly younger ones? Undoubtedly, but it works for me and long may it continue.

While some of the report gives cause for concern, it would be remiss of me not to highlight its positive aspects – there are an awful lot and, as such, I could not possibly outline them all. However, for me, perhaps the most important aspect of the plan is the apparent realisation that nature is, in fact, important to a great many people – providing benefits to both physical and mental health. There is mention of natural therapies for, a (sort of) plan for urban greenspaces – vital for those within the population confined to an urban setting – and even a note on the importance of engaging young people with nature. All of this focuses on the human side of nature and, if implemented correctly, may well play a pivotal role in changing societies view of the natural world. Painting the great outdoors as an important part of daily life, as opposed to a mere fringe interest.

Additionally (as I touched upon in last weeks post on Michael Gove) I am also quite taken with the governments apparent commitment on tackling plastic pollution. This has been much discussed elsewhere so I will refrain from talking too much on the matter; though I will say that plastic pollution, namely in our oceans, is one of the most pressing environmental issues of our time. I welcome any and all attempts to curb our reliance on non-biodegradable refuse and recognise the value of the government’s suggestions on this issue. It will not be easy – we do, after all, rely heavily on plastics – but I am at least optimistic given recent developments.

Some other points of the plan worthy of a mention include the vaguest hint that a new environmental watchdog could be formed to monitor environmental decisions post-Brexit. This, in my opinion, is a necessity; though I will not hold my breath. As writer Ben Eagle points out, the government has only suggested that they will consult on the matter. Not exactly a firm promise but mildly encouraging. As is mention of creating room for species reintroductions and talk of biosecurity measures designed to halt the spread of invasive species. Non-native, alien plants, animals and diseases are an issue I care very strongly about – having witnessed the collapse of the Red Squirrel population in my local area and the rampant spread of damaging botanicals – and I really do welcome any and all action on this front.

So yes, I find myself torn on the May governments 25-year Environment Plan. On one hand, it lacks substance and omits much with regards to just how ministers intend to enact the bold plans set out in the document. It also fails to mention a number of issues close to my heart and does not really do all that much now to tackle many of the problems listed. Focusing too heavily on the prospect of future action without taking into consideration the possible demise of the party behind the plan. Similarly, it is clearly an attempt to bolster the Tory parties public image and relies heavily on the outcome of Brexit in order to deliver any and all of the promises included. I agree with the sentiments of others than the plan is lacking; though I don’t think I can go as far as to brand it underwhelming.

On the other hand, the plan paints a picture of positivity by showing that the environment is, in fact, an issue that should find itself at the heart of politics. The very existence of the plan shows a shift in governmental attitudes and a realisation that voters, from all backgrounds, care for nature. The previously mentioned aspects regarding our own relationship with the world around us likewise provide cause for optimism, while the mention of issues ranging from soil degradation and biosecurity to reintroductions and habitat enhancement at least show that the government is on the right track. They are saying the right things, promising to tackle many of the issues which I, as an environmentalist, care about and prioritising approaches that will actively benefit our countryside. Whether these things come to pass is another story – it could all be bluster – though, given the tendency for things like this to fall somewhere in the middle, it at least looks as if nature will, in some capacity, benefit from the plan.

Like many, I am sceptical of this plan, but I do feel a palpable sense of hope which, only a few weeks back, did not exist at all.

(Image: http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/politics/theresa-backing-25-year-environment-11835666)

New Nature | Issue 13

The United Kingdom is full of incredible wildlife to discover, and over the past year, contributors to New Nature magazine have shared with us their adventures and conservation concerns. It has been a huge privilege for the team, as well as inspiring, to read such wonderful contributions by young wildlife lovers.

We have included some truly memorable pieces so far and this anniversary edition is no different. Despite the cold weather, giving many people a reluctance to go outside, this issue will be the boost you need to don your wellies and explore, with Elliot Dowding telling us what to watch for this month (p6), Chloe Brookes encouraging you to get out there even if you are new to birding (p16) and I ponder upon what makes winter
special (p12).

We have featured interviews with various inspirational figures in past magazines and cannot thank them enough for their support. We continue in this issue with valuable advice for our readers, as Alex Pearce talks to Hugh Warwick, the author and ecologist, about his admiration for hedgehogs. I talk to Dr Euan Dunn, the RSPB’s Principal Marine Policy Officer, about his fascinating career and advice he has for others. Green Fingered George, RHS Young Ambassador, also shares with us his tips for gardening for wildlife (p10).

We are excited to announce that we are launching our first writing competition (p44) based on the topic ‘The embodiment of spring’, with judge Robert Macfarlane! In this issue, we also learn more about the youth nature group A Focus on Nature (p32), discover conservation concerns about wildlife selfies from Ciara Stafford
(p19) and plastics in the ocean from Ele Johnstone (p26). As well as this we find out about the fascinating Portuguese man o’ war from Sarah Gaunt (p22) and the importance of bird clubs from Jack Bucknall (p40).

We would like to thank everyone for their continued support, with a special thank you to our contributors, and hope that everyone enjoys reading the 13th edition of New Nature!

You can download the latest issue of New Nature here: https://goo.gl/3jSALx

– Alice Johnson, Features Editor

Winter walking at Bakethin

Bakethin, located a short-way upstream of Kielder Reservoir, is unique among nature reserves in Northumberland. Here, among the hulking frames of aged firs and a forest floor dominated by mossy knolls and straggly Bilberry, it is quite possible to pretend you are elsewhere: to imagine yourself strolling through the wilds of Scandinavia or Canada. The only sounds here, in the wild heart of the North-East, coming from natural sources: the soft plop of falling snow as, warmed by the sun, it tumbles from overhead branches, the sound of lapping water, creaking trunks and, of course, birdsong. It is this sense of wilderness, the feeling of isolation and remoteness, which makes a visit to Bakethin so enjoyable, cathartic even. This superb site boasting its own unique array of wildlife, quite unlike any other place in our region.

My visit to Bakethin started well, the sight of frozen waterways, frost-strewn mosses and delicate hoarfrost giving the appearance of a true Winter wonderland as we set out on the trail mid-morning. Indeed, while most of the previous night’s ice had melted in the Winter sun, trees in the shadier reaches of the wood found themselves festooned with some truly impressive works of ice. Branches, twigs and trunks alike coated in fern-like crystals, each similar yet also different from the last. Frosts such as this only form under the right set of climatic conditions, usually on clear and still nights, and, in truth, they were rather magical to see.

Following the woodland trail from our start point at Butteryhaugh Bridge, it did not take long for the site’s wildlife to become apparent. First, a Nuthatch scampering deftly up the trunk of a weathered-looking Sitka Spruce and next, a party of gold-black Siskin taking flight from the canopy and passing overhead against the blue sky in a flurry of pleasant twittering. Further into the wood, in the area surrounding the new (and rather nice) hide overlooking the reservoir, a Treecreeper showed well as it foraged in the dappled sunlight and the sharp, one-note flight call of a Great Spotted Woodpecker was heard as the bird passed by out of sight. These were, however, not the most exciting species to be seen here and soon, with a brief flash of soft-crimson, the days target species flew into sight: Crossbills.

Common Crossbills are not a species encountered very often by casual nature lovers in Northumberland. Their conifer-based diet and resulting habitat preferences meaning that they are confined, for the main part, to the interior of the county. To areas such as Kielder Forest, where their preferred food plants grow in abundance. They are extremely attractive birds: the males in their warm, red attire and the females in their paler, green plumage making for riveting viewing as they delicately extract the seeds from robust spruce cones. A sight we enjoyed for a good half-hour at Bakethin before the niggling cold forced us to take shelter in the lakeside hide. Leaving the birds to their feast in peace.

From the hide, the extent of the prior nights cold snap became clear: the lake frozen for around 25m in every direction. Something which resulted in what wildfowl there was – Mallard, Tufted Duck and Goldeneye – lurking far offshore. Not that it mattered much; the landscape before us, illuminated by the sun, making for relaxing viewing. A sight of tranquillity which, coupled with rare silence, made for a most luxurious pitstop. The ephemeral stillness outside now, set to disappear come Spring: when migrant birds arrive once more, wildflowers burst into life, amphibians and reptiles emerge and ice retreats, again, for another season.

On the return journey, the sound a singing Crossbill could be heard – although the bird itself was never seen – and, in the carpark, shaking branches heralded the arrival of another must-see Bakethin resident: a Red Squirrel. The Auburn one, boasting some truly impressive Winter ear-tufts, dropping briefly to the ground in search of food before taking off out of sight moments later. Red Squirrels are not doing all that well in the wider countryside, thus it lifts heart to see them going strong here, in their English stronghold. A testament to the diligent work of conservationists working to protect the precious population living across the wider Kielder Forest area.