Putting nature back into the Peak District

Wading birds gathered in record numbers at Dove Stone in the Peak District this breeding season, all thanks to an ambitious ongoing bog restoration programme implemented by United Utilities and the RSPB.

Over the summer, RSPB staff and volunteer surveyors recorded 49 pairs of dunlins at the Saddleworth site, up a quarter from the 39 pairs observed in 2014 and up five pairs on last year’s previous record of 44. With the increase in breeding Dunlin mirrored, also, in Dove Stone’s Golden Plover, which increased from 92 pairs in 2014 to 110 this year.

Dunlin, small wading birds that love breeding in wet hilly places, have been gradually increasing at Dove Stone over the past decade after virtually vanishing from the Peak District in the early 2000s. Golden plovers are medium-sized wading birds that also favor nesting on wet bogs and, likewise, their numbers have been steadily growing at Dove Stone in recent years.

The RSPB, which manages Dove Stone in partnership with landowner United Utilities, has discovered a direct correlation between this increase of breeding wading birds and the restoration of blanket bog at the site.

Healthy blanket bogs, which are found on wet hilly plateaus, can provide great benefits both for people and wildlife. As well as provide insect food for birds, they lock up harmful carbon, improve water quality by acting as a natural filtration system and prevent flooding by slowing down the water flow. However, like much of this habitat in the UK, Dove Stone’s had been damaged by past industrial air pollution with the surface vegetation and peat-building sphagnum mosses having almost completely died out, leaving large areas of bare, dried out peat.

Since 2005, United Utilities and the RSPB have been working to restore Dove Stone’s bog by covering the bare, damaged peat with new vegetation, blocking gullies to raise the water table and sowing new sphagnum moss. The increase in breeding waders appears to be rising in direct response to the improving habitat.

Dave O’Hara, RSPB site manager at Dove Stone, said: “It’s no coincidence that numbers of breeding waders at Dove Stone began to increase at the same time we began to restore the blanket bog with our partner United Utilities. It’s gratifying and inspiring to see our continuing restoration work paying off with more and more wading birds nesting here every year. 

“Thanks to generous funding from WREN, we are currently in the middle of Sowing the Moss, a three year project where we are working with volunteers to plant more sphagnum, which will help rebuild the bog. Restoring Dove Stone’s bog is a huge long-term undertaking but it’s such an important habitat that brings so many benefits for wildlife and people that it’s well worth all the effort that everyone has – and continues – to put in.”

Ed Lawrance, Catchment Partnership Officer at United Utilities, said: “The moorland restoration work is a long-term project, originally driven by our approach to improve water quality in a sustainable way, reducing treatment costs for our customers.  It’s wonderful to see the dramatic result it has had for wading birds at Dove Stone. It’s a brilliant example of a win-win partnership and we are very proud of what’s been achieved.”

Follow all the latest Northern England RSPB news on Twitter at @RSPB_N_England

Cover image courtesy of Matt Tillett, licensed via Flickr Creative Commons.

 

Half-Penny: aliens and interlopers

There are many words used to describe species which, through human intervention, have found themselves existing far outside of their historic, natural range. Terms such as invasives, aliens, invasive aliens and nonindigenous species are quite familiar; while a glance at social media often reveals myriad more unflattering phrases: pest, nuisance, menace, vermin – I particularly loathe the latter. Regardless of the terminology applied to them, however, such species have become a figment of daily life in present day Britain: intermingling with and, in some cases, out-competing many of our native creatures. Some are unwelcome, some are accepted and others are ignored entirely; though for many, myself included, aliens and interlopers have quickly become a fact of life around our respective local patches. So much so, in fact, that they appear rooted in the very foundation of the places we know and love. My local patch, Half-Penny, is no different.

Setting out with the express intent of documenting the variety of exotic species thriving, or merely surviving, within the wood, I arrived just before dawn – the bright yet deceivingly cold sunlight just beginning to percolate down to the woodland floor. Bouncing off the palmate leaves of Sycamore and transforming the carpet of native Butterbur and Ground Elder beneath into a mosaic of jaded and rejuvenated greens. Sycamore – a non-native species introduced by either the Romans or the Tudors, depending on the source, so familiar that is often hard to imagine the tree being anything other than a time-honored resident. One alien down.

Further into the wood, an assortment of plump, white berries shone by the side of footpath – a beacon of unfamiliarity, far removed from anything else found within the depths of Half-Penny. I am, of course, referring to the ivory fruits of Snowberry Symphoricarpos albus – a North American species which here, in my wood, has spread like wildfire, now representing the dominant shrub species across at least half of the site. An appealing species, boasting delicate pink flowers earlier in the year that, reluctantly, I have come to accept as a permanent feature of life here. Indeed, it would take a considerable effort to halt its creeping but clearly apparent advance.

Moving forward, the smell of Himalayan Balsam caught my attention long before first glimpse of the the sea of swaying pink blooms that dominates the mid-wood in late Summer. A species familiar to many that needs no introduction: balsam is a blight to native flora yet a handy source of nectar for various pollinators, many of which, today, could be seen hovering deftly around the bell shaped flowers. The internal jury is still out on this one; though less so on the small stand of Japanese Knotweed uncovered further into the tangle. A species which, due to a combination of education and personal experience, I find it hard to look upon with even a hint of appreciation. I doubt said stand will remain small for long, given the tendency of this species to spread like measles. It may have a hard job competing with the already established balsam, however. May the best (or worst) plant win.

Stopping briefly to admire the hulking frame of a Turkey Oak – a much more welcome invader which, year after year, provides a reliable source of delightfully hairy acorns for woodland residents to savor – my attentions soon turned to a yellow bloom protruding conspicuously from amid a riverside depression. Monkeyflower Mimulus guttatus, another invader of American origin which, rather oddly, is the county flower of Tyne and Wear. This species, much like the Turkey Oak, does not appear to be causing much of the problem in the wood; and like the oak with its comical, fuzzy fruit, provides a handy resource for local animals. Demonstrated by the Carder bee buzzing hastily between flowers as I watched, intrigued.

Less conspicuous than the botanical interlopers yet equally as prolific, it was not long before I caught sight of my first Grey Squirrel of the day. An unwelcome arrival which, more so than any other, cuts straight to my heart despite its altogether cute appeal. You see, during childhood visits to the wood, native Red Squirrels were a familiar sight, common even. A trend which lasted right up until 2013, when, to my surprise and distress, I sighted my first grey in the area. An ill omen of things to come later as the latter increased and the former decreased, fading from existence by 2016 – the same time as I began work as a Grey Squirrel control volunteer.

Grey Squirrels are one alien I find it hard to tolerate; not because I see them in a particularly negative light – they are rather endearing, in truth – but because of the damage done to a much-loved local species. I suspect this makes me a frightful hypocrite given my begrudging fondness for balsam and the plants impact upon native flora, though none of us are perfect. Though I wish we didn’t, we all place varying amounts of significance on certain species, often at the expense of others. It’s human nature.

Today I appreciate the squirrel for what it is, a highly adaptive and incredibly successful species. With more evidence of the rodents continued success in Half-Penny uncovered upon my departure. A pile of gnawed hazel shells: a small but stark testament to the changing nature of Half-Penny which, in spite of human interference, appears set to shift further in years to come.

New Nature issue 9!

This month has seen a bit of a change in the New Nature team. Due to the success
of previous issues, we now have three new team members. We have Lauriane Suyin, our Outreach Manager, and Emma-Jo Pereira who is our new Social
Media Manager. I (Scott) am also new and I will be part of the editorial team. We
are all very excited to be part of New Nature and look forward to working here.

We’ve got a very full edition this month with a lot of great content and many new contributors which is fantastic to see. Our regular pieces still remain though, and Adam Canning reminds us what a great month this is for wildlife with his piece on “What to watch for” in September (Page 6). We also have Alix Zelly focusing on red squirrels in “Species Focus” (Page 24) and our very own Elliot Dowding presents the field maple tree as an underrated species (Page 10). Dara McAnulty and Isla Dawn Hodgson have both written excellent pieces on the plight of the hen harrier (Page 16 & 18) whilst Antaia Christou and David Bassett have provided this month’s opinion piece, arguing
both sides of the hunting debate (Page 20).

All those articles combined don’t even make up half of this month’s issue though so we owe a huge thank you to everyone who has sent us articles this month. It has been a pleasure to read your work and we hope you enjoy seeing it in print. Remember to follow us on social media and drop us an email if you would like to be a contributor as we are always looking for new people and new ideas. From the whole team here, thank you for your continued support and we hope you enjoy this edition!

Check out New Nature issue 8 here: 
Scott Thomson
Content Editor

BBC Wildlife Blogger of the Week

This week, I was kindly awarded the honour of Blogger of the Week by BBC Wildlife Magazine for my recent piece regarding my local patch: the Half-Penny Wood. This is the second time I have been lucky enough to be featured by the publication – the last being back in 2015 – and I really am very grateful.

Patch reporting has always been a passion of me, as both a dedicated amateur naturalist and an aspiring writer. It is a great way to relive the joys of seasons past, to keep track of your wildlife sightings and, all in all, to extoll the virtues of your favoured haunts to like-minded individuals. I will certainly be writing a lot more on the subject over the coming weeks; though if you wish to do the same, why not sign-up as a BBC Local Patch Reporter too?

 

 

 

 

Edward Grierson: The Importance of Community-Owned Land

For most of July, I was on holiday on the West of Scotland where, during my stay, I visited one particular island twice. This was Eigg, one of the Inner Hebrides, and an island with a remarkable story.

Eigg, having been passed through successive landowners since the 12th century, suffered notorious mismanagement in the 1980s and 1990s. This led the islanders to apply, unsuccessfully, to buy Eigg in 1995. After raising £1.5 million, they applied again in 1997, this time with success. This was an incredible milestone itself, but even more incredible was how the Islanders have since turned their fortunes around.

One small but significant step for the Eigg community was being able to control grazing in Eigg’s hills, allowing them to reduce soil erosion into the sea, formerly a major problem. The community has also expanded several woodlands and planted several new ones. But their most famous achievement was the foundation of Eigg Electric in 2008: established by setting up two hydroelectric dams, four wind turbines and a number of solar panels. Currently, 100% of the island’s electricity comes from renewables.This is, however, more than just one island’s success story, and the success of Eigg highlights the need for greater community ownership of land in this country.

The UK has one of the highest concentrations of land ownership of any nation, with 50% of registered land in England and Wales being owned by 36,000 people or 0.3% of the rural population. Taken by itself, Scotland has the highest land concentration in the world, with 432 families owning half the land.

In Norway, it’s a very different story. Norway’s pattern of land ownership consists largely of communes and smaller family-owned landholdings. Unlike crofters in Scotland, who lease land from private landowners, Norwegian farmers and their families typically own the land they farm on and boast a much more stable financial situation as a result. Perhaps then, we can aspire for Britain to be like Norway?

The good news is that there are many communities across Britain who are thinking along the same lines. Certainly, in Scotland, there has been a growing understanding that people can’t manage land for their benefit if they don’t own it- a movement aided in part by the rights-to-buy laws created by the Land Reform Act of 2003. In Glencansip and Dumrunie estates, bought by the Assynt people in 2005, work is underway to build new crofts – like those we would see in Norway, with farmers able to own the land they farm. In many ways, this movement has also been led by a strong environmental conscience, largely due to growing awareness of the Caledonian Forest and how much we have lost. The aforementioned estates are also looking to restore 40 hectares of hazel woodland, and last year we witnessed the buyout of two former conifer plantations: one in Loch Arkaig and another in Aigas. Both now subject to ambitious plans aiming to restore native broadleaf and Scots pine woodland. As of last year, half a million hectares of Scotland was in community ownership.

In England and Wales, however, there has been less progress. I can’t say why this is, but for whatever reason, and although there has been some progress in the form of a  growing number of community woodlands, the call for community-owned land is less vocal. Perhaps then, it is time for a Land Reform Act for England and Wales – to provide an incentive for communities interested in owning their own land.

Like anything, community-owned land is not without risk, and it is entirely possible for communities to make a dog’s dinner of a buyout. But with an increasing number of communities engaging in discussions about land ownership and plenty of successful buyouts providing templates for success, there is plenty of promise for the future of community-owned land.

Half-Penny: by the riverside

Today I thought I would try something different and, forgoing the urge to travel in search of nature, opted for a more relaxed approach to observation. Choosing to simply sit, watch and wait in a setting that, more so than any other, has enthused me since childhood: the Half-Penny Wood.

It was the river which held my attention this morning: the water, cocoa brown and flecked with uneven patches of creamy foam, washing past at middling pace as I took up position on a nearby rock. Carrying with it a whole manner of oddities: delicate, fairy-like seeds born of dandelion and thistle, blushed leaves already extirpated from the canopy above and, occasionally, a stonefly – latticed wings glinting in the sun as the insect hitched a free ride downstream. The only sounds to be heard here, at first, coming from the quaint bubbling of the water as it snaked its way around the many boulders dotting the channel, and the mew of a Buzzard circling vulturine overhead. A good start.

The sounds of nature descended and disappeared as I waited by the river, unsure of what exactly I was waiting for yet oddly full of hope. The shrill hweet of a Chiffchaff concealed amid the riparian vegetation and the sharp, singular flight call of a passing woodpecker delivering welcome music to my ears. These initial signs of life followed, in turn, by the varied notes of Robin, Nuthatch and Great Tit and, later, the soothing purr of a Woodpigeon watching suspiciously from the twisted upper limbs of a Wych Elm. Wonderful sounds, each indicative of my love of the wood and her verdant reaches yet all forgotten as a piercing whistle found my ears. A familiar precursor to joys to come as, within seconds, a sapphire blur crossed my line of sight. The bird, a Kingfisher, disappearing as soon as it arrived leaving nought but a smile and a vague sense of accomplishment. I would not have seen it had I opted to walk.

Equally as appealing as the blue of the Kingfisher today was the flush of pink engulfing the river bank to the left of where I sat. The combined result of an amalgamation of the countless blooms of Himalayan Balsam and daintier flowers of Herb-Robert. The flushed portion of the bank, rife with bell-shaped and vibrant blooms, eventually instigating my departure as I set about combing through the jungle of brittle stems in search of life. Life that was soon found in the form of myriad bees and wasps painted white by the pollen of the waterside invader.

To my surprise, most of the bees observed today were Honeybees – buzzing too and fro between flowers boasting a conspicuous dusting of what almost looked like icing sugar. The sight of a few Common Wasps was equally welcome, however, given news of recent declines. I know that, as a conservationist, I am supposed to loathe balsam, and to an extent, I do begrudge the damage it causes. To floral communities, to riversides and human interests. Today, however, with more insects seen around this tiny portion of the bank than during the rest of the outing combined, it was hard to scorn it. This alien botanical may be problematic, but the bees certainly like it and I, personally, quite like the sickly-sweet smell of ombrophilous balsam growths too.

Departing the wood in a hurry, only two more sights gave cause to pause. The first, a conspicuous pile of gnawed, green hazelnuts a telltale sign of another, much more damaging, invader thriving in the wood at present – Grey Squirrels – and the second, a sign of illness. Rhytisma acerinum or Tarspot, as it is commonly called, is a fungi which infects the leaves of Sycamore – turning previously chlorophyllin foliage into a mosaic of black-brown lesions, bordered with yellow. It is quite harmless and does not do too much damage to the tree it infects; though it does make for an interesting picture.

Five MORE great apps for modern naturalists

Following my first post on the subject, I thought I would revisit the matter of great mobile applications designed to make life easier for naturalists on the go – there are just so many worthy of a mention and it very, very difficult to choose! With this in mind, featured below are five more educational, fun and all around beneficial apps for you to consider. While they may differ in purpose, all make a worthy edition to home-screen of any iPhone or Android device.

INaturalist

A truly global and incredibly popular app, iNaturalist helps you identify myriad plants and animals at the touch of a button. This incredibly user-friendly application allows you to capture photos in the field and post them online for others to identify – perfect for those lacking the time to flick through extensive field guides or for those lacking knowledge of a specific taxonomic group. Like the apps mentioned in my previous post, iNaturalist is essentially a citizen science application: one that lets you record and upload records of plants and animals on the move. Though, in this case, this app comes complete with an added sense of community – allowing users to follow and interact with like-minded individuals and learn from the extensive experience of others. It is well worth a moment of your time and, perhaps best of all, is entirely free to download and use.

Mammal Tracker

Brought to you by the Mammal Society, Mammal Tracker is the easiest and most efficient way to submit mammal sightings on the go. From small mammals – voles, shrews and mice – to deer and badgers, this app lets you submit records on the spot, complete with important information such as date, location and the number of individuals involved in the sighting. With records feeding directly into the societies database and, ultimately, helping paint a better picture regarding the health of Britain’s mammalian populations. Records submitted via Mammal Tracker are all verified by experts, thus the submission of photos alongside reports of hard to identify species is recommended; though it should be noted that this app is open to everyone, expert and novice alike. Additionally, Mammal Tracker is also incredibly helpful when identifying the species seen on your daily forays, and comes complete with a confusion species gallery to aid in proper identification of troublesome species. I certainly found it useful with regards to voles…

IRecord

I cannot stress the virtues of IRecord enough: this app should be the go-to resource for biological recorders, amateur or otherwise, in the UK. IRecord allows users to submit sightings of myriad different taxa alongside handy GPS acquired coordinates and relevant descriptions. All of which feeds directly into national databases and provides scientists with no end of useful information regarding the health and spread of faunal and floral populations. This application has many advantages: the ability to work offline and record any species, small or large, foremost among them. It also automatically checks sightings in order to highlight potential errors and allows experts to verify sightings deemed accurate. In this regard, photos of hard to identify species are recommended. As with iNaturalist, this app comes with a real sense of community, letting recorders share their sightings with others both locally and nationally; and even comes complete with a slight competitive element for those interested in a bit of sport. With sightings recorded via the app feeding into league tables visible on the IRecord website. Though for most, this will play second fiddle to the importance of recording in the first place; with this easy to use and appealing app making biological recording on the go both incredibly easy and enjoyable. Check it out!

PlantTracker

Born of the combined efforts of the Environment Agency, Scottish Natural Heritage, Nature Resources Wales and others, this is an incredibly important application that fulfils a very significant purpose: recording the spread of invasive botanicals. We all know the perils brought about by invasive species – whether that be Himalayan Balsam or Japanese Knotweed. They displace and out-compete native species, ruin vulnerable habitats and, in some cases, cause extensive damage to human interests. In order to control said species, it is necessary to understand them: which is where Plant Tracker comes in. Letting users submit GPS based photographic records of eighteen particularly problematic species wherever they are encountered. This app is definitely one for those wishing to do something positive for nature.

Roger’s Mushrooms

Available as in both a lite, free version and a more extensive yet affordably priced version, Roger’s Mushrooms is the perfect tool for identifying (and learning about) fungi. This user-friendly app comes complete with over 2,600 photographs of 1,650 fungi species from across Europe and North America and allows users to document their own fungal adventures and share their finds with like-minded recorders. Additional features of the app include an Eat Mushrooms section complete with handy tips and recipes from founder and author, Roger Phillips, and a Learn Mushrooms section which allows users to test their mettle through a series of fun and educational quizzes. Rogers Mushrooms is, without a doubt, an app worthy of a space in the phone of every aspiring mycologist.

An interesting record…

I love moth trapping. I adore the expectant thrill that abounds when venturing into the unknown each morning; as I carefully remove egg boxes and examine the various colourful critters disguised beneath. Mothing, for me, is addictive, exhilarating even – each morning bringing some different; whether in the form of a new species, a record count or a garden rarity. The anticipation that abounds when combing through the contents of a trap paramount to that of fishing, or birding in autumn – the same sense of the unexpected drawing me back time and time again.

Today’s catch looked promising at a glance: two of the first moth’s removed representing overdue firsts for my little urban garden – Broad-bordered Yellow Underwing and Copper Underwing – the latter of which is rather more scarce up North where it’s commoner cousin, the Svensson’s Copper Underwing, reigns supreme. Sure enough, I caught eight Svensson’s this morning which, when coupled with other highlights of Gold Spot, Dark Marbled Carpet and only my second Garden Pebble, left me feeling satisfied. That is until a curious looking, striped moth in the final egg tray caught my attention – a new one for me which, after some advice from various people on Facebook revealed itself to be Hypsopygia glaucinalis or Double-striped Tabby. As seen in the cover photo of this post.

Now, the interesting thing about this species is that there had only been two previous records of it in the county. Making my individual only the third ever recorded in Northumberland. Easily my best garden record to date and right up there in the excitement stakes with the scant few notable records I have obtained in the past. Among these the first Small Dark Yellow Underwing and Black Mountain Moth for Angus since the 1970’s. Yes, today was a good day.

Said Small Dark Yellow Underwing from Angus in 2015

Three Peaks for Curlew – Success!

I am delighted to announce that yesterday, following an exhausting day of trekking in the Yorkshire Dales, myself, Sacha Elliot and Tiffany Francis (otherwise known as the Curlew Crusaders) concluded our three peaks for Curlew challenge. Hooray!

Taking in the peaks of Pen-y-ghent, Whernside (in my opinion, the worst of the three) and Ingleborough, we completed the twenty-six-mile hike in a total of 11.5 hours. That is within the time limit necessary to successfully complete the challenge. While our walk was far from easy – quite the opposite, in fact, and each of us woke up unable to move properly this morning – I am glad to say it was a success. Not least because it provided an opportunity to enjoy spectacular scenery and wildlife in the company of great friends, but because the money we raised as a team will go directly to the British Trust for Ornithology in support of the dedicated Curlew appeal. With every penny raised going towards the betterment of our understanding surrounding one of Britain’s fastest declining yet most iconic bird species. I couldn’t be happier.

Together, the three of us raised a grand total of £2065 for our chosen cause – the result of numerous, generous online donations and further aid given at the first annual Curlew festival back in June. I know I speak for all on our team when I say we are incredibly grateful for each and every penny donated and have been bowled over by the enormously positive response we have received on social media. Thank you all!

I, personally, find myself in serious need of a long and uninterrupted nap at present – it appears I selected a rather uncomfortable tent – but hope that our walk, coupled with other similar schemes running at present, may inspire others to get out there and undertake something similar for themselves. It need not be something physical, but it is up to each of us, as individuals, to get out there and do whatever we can, wherever we can in support of the causes we, personally, care for. Whether that involves a single species (Curlew are a good place to start but perhaps I am a little biased) or our NGO’s and charities whose tireless work said species depend on.

Not sure what is going on with my face in this one…

Adventures in the sea air

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Nature Issue 8!

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

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

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

Another year in retrospect

Well, that is another birthday over and done with, the majority of my 24th spent writing up dissertation work and searching, in vain, for relevant job opportunities in my local area. Not the most riveting of birthdays, by a long shot, and a day that left me dwelling on what feels to me, like a lack of development of late. Predominantly in terms of my career, but also with regards to new and motivating opportunities. Indeed, as is doubtless the case for many students in the concluding stages of their respective courses, I cannot help but feel that I am stuck in somewhat of a rut at present: trundling on, yet going nowhere particularly fast.

My as yet fruitless search for job opportunities did, however, get me thinking and, as is a tradition on this blog, I thought I would give a quick account of my antics this past year and set out a few goals for the future. If only to boost my own spirits somewhat and give hope that there may, in fact, be light at the end of the current monotonous tunnel.

What have I done since my last birthday? Well, I concluded another season as an ecological field assistant in the Scottish highlands and opted, rather spontaneously, to study a Masters degree in Wildlife Management at Newcastle University. This has been rather good and has taken me to some truly lovely places – not least the Farne Islands where I recently conducted my thesis fieldwork. This course is due to conclude this month, with graduation in December. To tide myself over while studying I have also been working a much more menial job than usual in central Newcastle; while also working part time in marketing for a wildlife tour company. As with last year, I am also busying myself with volunteer work as a Grey Squirrel control volunteer in my local area. Not the most envious of tasks but a vital one.

To tide myself over while studying I have also been working a much more menial job than usual in central Newcastle; while also working part time in marketing for a wildlife tour company. As with last year, I am also busying myself with volunteer work as a Grey Squirrel control volunteer in my local area – not the most envious of tasks but a vital one – and have volunteered, albeit sporadically, with a few other local organisations.

Since last July, I have relinquished my role as a blogger for both Wildlife Articles and Conservation Jobs and moved on, instead, to write a regular column for Northumberland Wildlife Trust; while also contributing to their quarterly magazine: Roebuck. This, in addition to my own website, and sporadic articles elsewhere – including my contribution to a scientific note in the Entomologist’s Record, has helped keep me busy. As of late 2016, I had started to doubt my commitment to blogging, though I am pleased to say that recognition as a finalist at both the Living North Awards 2016, and the Northern Blogger Awards 2017 have sorted that out. Some people clearly enjoy reading what I write, and that is very good to know. Elsewhere, multiple local newspapers and the Countryman have also featured me for various reasons.

Writing, work and education aside, I have also been fundraising for the BTO Curlew Appeal alongside a couple of like-minded friends. Together, we have raised over £2000 for our chosen cause and our Yorkshire Three-Peaks outing is set to take place this month. Earlier this year this resulted in myself and Sacha giving a short speech at the first annual Curlew Conference at Boldon Castle – a day which, all in all, was mighty good fun.

Finally, there is New Nature, a project which requires very little introduction due to my tendency to waffle on about it both on here, and on social media. Establishing the magazine has been a blast and we have seen both our following and readership increase into the thousands in just a few short months. This, however, has not been the most rewarding aspect of the project and, for me, the greatest pleasure has been derived from promoting and supporting the myriad young conservationists who have chosen to write for us over the months. We will, I hope, continue to do this long into the future but for now, have a number of exciting plans lined up for New Nature that, hopefully, we see us take more of a leading role in supporting both young people, and wildlife. Stay tuned.

 

Having written the above, and remembered a few things that had slipped my mind, it seems that, maybe, I am on track. Or maybe I am not, who knows. What I do know, however, is that the past twelve-months have taken me to some superb places, lead to some fantastic experiences, and provided a few new and exciting opportunities. At present, I do not know where I will be in twelve months time – though I hope that, by then, I will be sitting snugly in a job in either conservation, communications or ecology. For now, perhaps it is best not to dwell, and to keep doing what I am doing. I am sure something will come along…

Five great apps for modern naturalists

Times are changing, and whether you welcome the shift towards a more technologically advanced age of wildlife-recording, or not, apps are fast becoming an invaluable addition to the would-be naturalist’s toolkit.  They allow you to expand your knowledge base, submit valuable records and, in some cases, have fun; while most are free and easily downloaded at the touch of a button. Below are six examples of apps that I, personally, use frequently, and ones which I thought may be of use to readers of this blog.

Birdtrack

An incredibly useful app brought to you by the British Trust for Ornithology, Birdtrack allows users to record sightings of the birds they have seen – either in the form of complete lists, or casual observations. With the data recorded feeding directly into the BTO database and providing researchers with useful information on everything from species abundance and migration times to breeding activity. This app also comes with the added bonus of allowing you to view which bird species have been recorded in your local area; while also serving as a notebook, of sorts, condensing your sightings into easily viewable lists to be revisited whenever you see fit. It is also very user-friendly.

Tree ID

Brought to you by the Woodland Trust, this attractive and easy to use app allows users to identify trees by their leaves, fruit and bark, and provides no end of useful information with regards to the species seen on rural (or urban) walks. It comes complete with a handy A-Z for easy identification and presents users with useful information relating to the status of our tree species, the threats they face and, in some cases, the folklore and historical uses associated with our trees. It is free to download on both Apple and Android devices and really is worth considering if, like me, you wish to learn more about our trees and refresh yourself on how to identify them.

Big Butterfly Count

The Big Butterfly Count app brought to you by Butterfly Conservation does exactly what it says on the tin. It allows you to submit valuable records to the annual census of British butterflies in the form of an easy to use recording sheet, complete with simple check boxes to yet the BC team know more about your particular count. This app uses GPS to track your location on the move and, as such, is perfect for recording spontaneous counts on the go, or when time limitations leave you unable to sit down at a computer to enter data. Additionally, this app also allows users to contribute to one of the most exciting and important citizen science projects of our age and is definitely one to consider for those boasting a penchant for Lepidoptera.

Nature Finder

A useful app for those seeking some wild respite, the Wildlife Trust’s Nature Finder application allows users to easily locate WT nature reserves across the length and breadth of the UK. It provides information with regards to the wildlife to be seen at specific sites and highlights upcoming events in your area; while also giving more generic information about myriad species and habitats that exist within the UK. This is the perfect app should you find yourself in need of some time in nature, or for those keen to explore and discover new places, both in your local area or further afield. Like the other apps on this list, Nature Finder is available on both Apple and Android devices.

Collins Bird Guide

The Collins bird guide in its traditional, paper-based form has long provided an indispensable resource for birders, both amateur and experienced alike, to identify the species they see in the field. It is a great book and one which I recommend everyone purchase, though did you know said book has also been transformed into a rather nifty app? The Collins app is easy to use, cheap and provides a whole manner of information with regards to bird identification and distribution, as well as boasting a handy call feature which allows users to ID birds based on sound, as well as sight. It also comes complete with fantastic artwork and in-depth maps and is highly recommended for those with an interest in avian pursuits.

Those mentioned above represent only a handful of the fantastic applications available for nature lovers to use in the field. There are, of course, many more out there and, should time allow, I will cover these in a later blog post. For now, however, why not try something new today and download one of these for yourself?

Adventures in the night garden

There is something quite exhilarating about spending time outdoors by night – each sound, each rustle in the shrubbery and splash in the water indicative of hidden treasures lying just out of sight amid the gloom. Watching wildlife by night is intoxicating, plain and simple, and recently, has become somewhat of a hobby of mine. A pastime born of necessity, with my days of late spent catching up on university work carrying and out a host of more menial tasks, thus leaving little time for adventure.

Last night, I spent three hours in the garden – watching, waiting and, most rewarding of all, listening, with only the blue glow of my actinic moth trap to light my way. My watch beginning at 10 pm as, with the light fading fast, the local Pipistrelles arrived to feed. Their coming timed to perfection to coincide with the departure of the first moths from their daylight hideaways. Indeed, as I watched, more and more moths emerged – springing forth from the Privet hedge and the nearby Hawthorns before heading upwards, often with the bats in close pursuit. I am yet to see a bat actually catch a moth, though I did witness one interesting piece of behaviour as a rather large individual – a large yellow underwing, I think – plummeted downwards, rigid as a stone, clearly having caught wind of its would-be pursuer. An interesting defence mechanism, and something that, to date, I have only seen on TV.

By 11 pm the last vestiges of light had faded and the moth trap had been fired up – the first arrivals, as ever, being the underwings. Followed closely by a number of Smoky Wainscot, Riband Wave and Snout – some of the more numerous species to inhabit my urban garden. Many moths came and went as I watched, with some – a rather beautiful Straw Underwing included – landing conveniently in the trap, and others, missing it entirely. No matter.

Before long, a faint rustling in the compost heap diverted my attention away from the trap. The sound of crunching, desiccated vegetation easily audible as a fleet of Common Frogs began to emerge. Ambling forward, into the open, before splitting up in all directions: towards the lawn, pond, borders and hedge. Easily counted by torchlight, a total of seven frogs were found, with another, concealed in some waterside vegetation, croaking loudly upon my approach. This particular individual joined amid the Water Mint by a delightful Smooth Newt. The latter watched and enjoyed as it emerged from the shallows before slinking, with surprising speed, out of sight. My efforts to facilitate my local amphibians are paying off, it would seem.

Come midnight, I had resumed my watch of the moth trap, adding Light Emerald and Common Plume to my list as I listened to the screeches of a distant Tawny Owl in the park adjacent to the house. I had just about grown tired when another sound caught my attention: an undoubtedly familiar call of a bird above that, for the life of me, I could not place for some time. I did eventually, however: it was a tern. A very unusual addition to the list of animals seen and heard from the garden, and a quite unexpected one, if that – I do, after all, live some way from the coast. Doubtless, this had to have been a migrating bird heading overland on its way South for Winter.

The tern was not the only migrant heard this night, however, and soon the call of an Oystercatcher became audible as it passed overhead. The high-pitched flight calls of the bird (or birds) followed soon, by the much more exciting sound of a Whimbrel, and then, the honking of geese. It really is amazing what you can hear from the comfort of your own deck chair at night, once the hustle and bustle of urban life has died down and others have succumbed to slumber.

My night outdoors finished as it began: with moths. A graceful Barred Red the last species to enter my trap before it was sealed and concealed for study the next day. Making my way to the house 1 am – placing my feet carefully so not the injure any of the snails moving slowly across the lawn – I found myself rather giddy, and grinning profusely. It really was an evening well spent.

Oh yes, and I am pleased to announce that, following their arrival last Spring, our garden foxes have returned. Hurrah!

 

Common Rustic agg.
Willow Beauty
Elderberry Pearl
Barred Red