Tag: Nature

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

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

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

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

Silverlink Biodiversity Park

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

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

Invertebrates

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

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

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

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

Plant life

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

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

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

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

Birdlife

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

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

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

Ferruginous Duck (Aythya nyroca) at Silverlink Biodiversity Park

Mammals

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

Wonderful Wildflowers at Bishop Middleham Quarry

A Special Site of Scientific Interest (SSSI) and Durham Wildlife Trust nature reserve encompassing a disused magnesian limestone quarry, I have read about Bishop Middleham Quarry for years. People, it seems, visit the site from far and wide to experience the fantastic flora on offer here. As well as for an abundance of colourful insects.

It is the bedrock here that gives the site such appeal. The quarry itself ceased work in 1934 and was left to restore naturally, providing a rare opportunity for magnesian limestone plant species to colonise and stay put. The quarry holds a number of quite rare species, restricted by the scarcity of limestone habitats in the wider countryside, but rarity aside provides an opportunity to marvel at a vibrant community of plants, insects and other wildlife. It really is a fantastic site.

Arriving at the site with orchids on the brain, it wasn’t long before we encountered our first. Scattered across the upper-tier of the quarry grassland, Common Spotted Orchids bloomed in their dozens – tall spikes of alternating shades of pink, purple and white looking lovely amid swaying stems of Quaking Grass and the blooms of Restharrow, Common Rock Rose and Bird’s-foot Trefoil.

Here, we stumbled across a beautiful, pure white specimen – the alba variant of this common species?

Scattered among the paler blooms of the spotted orchids, the deep-purple flowers of Northern Marsh Orchid were easy to make out. Less numerous, by far, but nice to see. Perhaps more exciting, however, was a single flower of Pyramidal Orchid found only metres into the reserve. A new species for me, a joy to behold and the first of many seen throughout our visit.

Still only metres from the reserve entrance, we soon encountered the day’s target species: Dark-red Helleborine. Bishop Middleham Quarry is known as the best place in the UK to observe this limestone-loving orchid and, sure enough, we encountered hundreds during our stay. Perhaps we were a little early as many had yet to open; though some pioneering plants were in full bloom. Thankfully!

Prying ourselves away from the helleborines, it was not long before we stumbled across two new orchids. On the quarry floor, the egg-shaped leaves and fading flower spikes of Common Twayblade were immediately apparent – not exactly striking by orchid standards but nice to see. Here too, a few Fragrant Orchids were found, another first for me and definitely deserving of a sniff to test their validity. The verdict? They did smell rather nice!

The least abundant orchids on-site were Bee Orchids but, having been pointed in the direction of a particular slope by a kind passer-by, we soon found three spikes in full flower. A plant that warrants little exposition and never fails to earn a smile. Here too, more Pyramidal Orchids were found.

As someone with very much limited knowledge of plants, Bishop Middleham Quarry also provided an opportunity to get to grips with a number of less-specialist species I seldom encounter around my usual haunts. It was nice to be able to compare Small and Field Scabious found growing side-by-side in a more verdant area of the site; while a tall yellow flower could well have been Agrimony.  Perforate St. John’s-wort was numerous but we failed to find (or at least, identify) the scarcer Pale St. John’s-wort which is said to grow here. A fine reason for another visit, I think.

Whilst trying (and failing) to locate Moonwort, I was pleased to stumble across a single flowering Harebell; while the strange, pea-like stalks of what I think was Yellow-wort were found on an old spoil heap. Other species observed included Wild Thyme, Greater Knapweed, Mouse-ear Hawkweed, Red Valarian and Wild Strawberry.

Whilst many of our walks focus on plant life these days (I’m not sure what has happened to me, in truth) we did find the time to admire some of the insect life present on site. Butterflies were incredibly numerous with plenty of Ringlet and Meadow Brown seen, alongside smaller numbers of Small Skipper, Common Blue, Speckled Wood, Small Heath and Small Tortoiseshell. Moths on the wing included Six-spot Burnet, Latticed Heath and Shaded Broad-bar.

A brief scan of the plentiful Hogweed tops on site revealed a few common hoverflies including Heliphilus pendulus, Volucella pellucens and Marmalade Hoverfly. Here too a grasshopper was apprehended (with great difficulty) and tentatively identified as Common Green Grasshopper owing to the in incurved, cream-coloured line on its shoulder.

Common Green Grasshopper

None of the sites famous Northern Brown Argus were seen on this occasion but, with countless other items of interest observed, a fantastic day was had.

Bishop Middleham Quarry is an exceptional, altogether beautiful site. A fine testament to what can happen when sites exploited by humans are returned to nature. I will definitely be visiting the site again in the future, even if it does involve more frequent trips (dare I say it) south of the Tyne!

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

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

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

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

Dasycera oliviella © Ross Gardner

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

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

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

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

Golden-bloomed Grey Longhorn Beetle © Ross Gardner

Chasing Urban Orchids

Few wildflowers capture the imagination quite like our orchids. They’re beautiful, of course, but also sufficiently scarce to provide a little jolt of excitement whenever you happen across one. They are also the only group of plants – to the best of my knowledge – that manages to unite all natural history enthusiasts, whether they be birders, lepidopterists, mammal-watchers or anyone else, under a single banner of botanical appreciation.

I stumbled across my first urban orchid of the year a fortnight past in my local park – a towering and luscious Northern Marsh Orchid rising skywards from the rough grass that adorns the peripheries of my local pond. Inspired, for the past fortnight, I have set about checking the various local sites to which I make annual pilgrimages in search of these vibrant little flowers.

First up, a trip in search of what is usually the most abundant species around me during mid-June: the Common Spotted Orchid. Well, this year, they appear far from common, with only a handful observed at a regular site and none at all at another. Perhaps they have been delayed somewhat by the unseasonably dry spring we have endured? Regardless of the reasons behind their reduced numbers, those we did see looked wonderful, their pointy, lilac flowerheads adding a welcome splash of colour among the alternating greens of the Juncus.

Common Spotted Orchid (Dactylorhiza fuchsii)

If Common Spotted Orchids appear scarce this year, Northern Marsh Orchid appears to be doing rather well. Following the initial sighting in the local park, I have encountered these much sturdier-looking orchids at three sites this week, and in good numbers. Many appear stunted and small compared with the towering spikes familiar from previous years but all maintain their lurid, purple appeal.

Northern Marsh Orchids may seem uniformly ‘purple’ from a distance but, looking closer, the repeated pattern of deep purple ribbons sat atop a violet backdrop makes for quite the beautiful sight.

Northern Marsh Orchid (Dactylorhiza purpurella)

I have written before about my fondest for Bee Orchids, perhaps one of our most iconic and sought after native wildflowers. Keen to seek out this year’s fix, this week I set off to a favourite local haunt where, in 2019, upwards of sixty stalks of this much-celebrated bloom were observed. A familiar trip which, unusually, ended in disappointment.

Three visits to Silverlink Biodiversity Park over recent days failed to yield a single orchid across what is usually a fairly productive area of flower-rich grassland. Despite the recent rains, the ground here remained baked dry and I couldn’t find a single leaf, never mind a flower.  Here, even the abundant Birds’-foot Trefoil seem suppressed and stunted due to the reason drought and, in the closing minutes of our third trip, we eventually gave up hope.

It was only when my partner decided to look once again at the margins of one of the nearby ponds did our luck change. Here, among the marsh orchids more characteristic of such damp places, two bee orchids stood proud, determined to buck the wider trend on site.

Bee Orchids need little exposition: they’re sublime, intricate and a little intoxicating, the very reason so many seek them out each year. Savouring the sight of the two pioneering blooms, I was simply happy to have enjoyed them for another season.

Hopefully, next year, Bee Orchids will once again rise en masse across this one small meadow. We’ll see…

Bee Orchid (Ophrys apifera)

Excitement in the wildlife garden

Wildlife gardening has become somewhat of an obsession of late as we attempt to make our urban ‘yarden’ as appealing as possible to all forms of life, from flies to visiting birds. Hand in hand with this, we have increased the time spent monitoring our little plot, with positive results. Already this year, we have recorded 68 species in our yard!

Now, 68 species may not seem overly impressive, at least when compared to the sky-high numbers achieved by other naturalists in the news recently. For us, however, its a wonderful starting point and provides ample inspiration to soldier on and keep counting! The diversity of life sharing our space now, following a few positive tweaks, contrasting sharply with what came before. The odd bluebottle, magpie and garden snail were replaced by a veritable hotchpotch of wild delights.

Here are a few new visitors observed and enjoyed over the past few weeks…

Fork-tailed Flower Bee

Spurred on by some pollinator-friendly planting, bees have continued to flock to our little assemblage of pots and plants. So far, we have recorded twelve species here with two interesting additions coming in the last fortnight. The first of these an entirely new species for me.

Fluffy, dumpy-looking yet wonderfully agile, the Fork-tailed Flower Bee looks (at least to the eyes of this inexperienced hymenopterist) somewhat like a cross between a bumblebee and one of the smaller, solitary bees. Seemingly scarcely recorded in my area, it came as somewhat of a surprise to catch sight of a male bee zipping about the flower bed one morning.

Boasting a distinct yellow face, these energetic bees are a delight to behold and, fast forward a few days, are becoming increasingly frequent in our yard. The aforementioned visitor quickly flowered by 4-5 more seemingly fixated on plants of the Lamiaceae (nettle) family. I must plant more mint…

An in-depth fact sheet for this species can be found on the BWARS website and is well worth a look.

Fork-tailed Flower Bee (Anthophora furcata)

Patchwork Leafcutter Bee

Just like the former bee, this garden visitor provided a welcome surprise. Roughly the size of a honey bee and boasting a striking clementine underside to it’s abdomen (the females at least), numbers of this delightful bee have built steadily over recent weeks.

Known to favour roses for their leaf-cutting antics, I live in hope that we may soon notice distinct, circular holes in our two garden plants. A few tatty looking leaves a small price to pay for hosting these intriguing little bees.

Perhaps they may even stick around to use our bee box? Fingers crossed.

Patchwork Leaf-cutter Bee (Megachile centuncularis)

Pied Hoverfly

Having recently acquired the incredibly detailed and accessible Wild Guide’s guide to Britain’s hoverflies, I’m slowly getting to grips with this tricky group, and greatly enjoying the hours of frustration as I find myself forced to scrutinise near-invisible wing-loops and ever so slight differences in patterning.

Thankfully, not all hoverflies are a pain to identify and a few days past we were lucky to catch sight of a large, monochrome individual in the yard. A quick skim through the aforementioned publication and the critter was revealed as a Pied Hoverfly, a distinctive migrant from mainland Europe.

Pied Hoverfly (Scaeva pyrastri)

Leafminers

For weeks now we have been noticing the distinct tunnels of leafminers on a range of garden plants, from ligularia to Silver Ragwort. While these remain a mystery, for now, a brief stint in the greenhouse revealed two potential culprits temporarily trapped inside.

Now, if I am a novice when it comes to hoverflies, I know absolutely nothing about flies that do not hover. Browsing a few online resources, however, I have made a tentative attempt to identify the minute beasties in question. The result? Tephritis formosa, a species known to feed on sow thistles, and Trypeta Zoe, a colourful little fly known to favour plants in the Asteraceae family. I am by no means confident in these identifications but it is good fun to step outside your comfort zone now and again.

Trypeta Zoe and Tephritis formosa, possibly!

Chaffinch

Now, I suspect few will share in my excitement over the humble Chaffinch but, having fed birds in our garden for almost three years, this is the first time this species has paid a visit. Recurring visits by a male bird each morning for the last few days providing a welcome touch of the ‘exotic’ among the more regular House Sparrows and Goldfinches.

As I write this, the bird in question is singing from the TV antennae atop my neighbour’s house following a brief stint pecking at his reflection in the bay window this morning. His continued presence makes me very happy indeed.

One of the great things about wildlife recording at home is definitely that the commonplace can equally as exciting as the rare.

A handsome garden visitor…

Investigating the Prudhoe Spetchells

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

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

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

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

Buffish Mining Bees (Andrena nigroaenea)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Into the Wild Woods at Allen Banks

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

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

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

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

Early Purple Orchid (Orchis mascula)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mountain Pansies (Viola lutea)

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

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

The blue, the bronze and the hairy

We have been on somewhat of a quest this year to transform our little urban yard into a plot beneficial to wildlife. Planting a range of native and ornamental plants, constructing a tiny pond, adding a bee box, and creating a small meadow area in a raised bed, we had hoped that wildlife would be quick to colonise this new habitat…

A few months in and our efforts to document our garden visitors, big and small, have yielded a number of interesting and significant sightings. Moreover, the challenge of creating something positive for nature and recording its use has really helped keep me sane throughout this turbulent time. A win, win if ever there was one.

Here’s a quick rundown of three exciting finds…

The blue…

Venturing out into the yard, coffee in hand, and intent on inspecting our tulips before they melt away to mush, yesterday we were graced by a rather superb garden visitor: a Holly Blue butterfly.

Though growing more abundant each year as they expand their range in the North East, these dazzling blue butterflies remain far from a part of daily life here. Found near holly and ivy (the species larval foodplants of which we have neither in the yard) it came as somewhat surprised to find this particular winged sapphire perched atop our stumpy, potted Buddleja – evidently warming up following a particularly chilly night.

A rather lovely Holly Blue (Celastrina argiolus)

The bronze…

Last year,  we were lucky to note a number of small, shiny bees visiting the garden. Most often encountered around smaller flowers – including our tomatoes – a few grainy photographs and some advice from local experts pointed towards these being Bronze Furrow Bee, Halictus tumulorum. Fast forward a year and our metallic visitors are back and this time, thankfully, they stayed still long enough for a verified identification.

Looking at the NBN Atlas distribution map for this species, records in the North East appear thin on the ground. Whether this is due to scarcity or simply a lack of people with the time to pursue the speedy blighters, I am unsure. Regardless, this would appear to be an interesting record.

The bees continue to visit the garden most days and make for enjoyable viewing as they mill about between planters. Their small size and fly-like appearance are worlds away from what I would traditionally have envisaged when hearing the word ‘bee’.

Bronze Furrow Bee (Halictus tumulorum)

The hairy…

Now, this is an exciting one. For a few weeks now, we have been seeing a number of small, brown yet intricately marked ‘jumping spiders’ in the garden. Similar in shape to the more familiar Zebra Jumping Spider, these went unidentified until (fortuitously) one ventured into the house – found attempting to snaffle the plentiful fungus gnats emerging from our windowsill chillies.

Now, I confess, I know nothing about spiders but thankfully, some people do, thus a specimen was sent off to North East’s county record for spiders, Richard Wilison. Fast forward a few days and the spiders’ identity was revealed as a mature male Hypositticus pubescens.

What makes this record interesting is that there are only previous six records of this species in my area, all dating between 1911 & 1931. That makes our little spider the first record for North East England for around 90 years.

It really is amazing what an open window and a burgeoning pest problem can turn up…

Hypositticus pubescens – quite cute, for a spider…

More tales from the urban jungle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Signs of Spring, by Frances Jones

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

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

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

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

Tales from the urban jungle

It certainly feels like Spring has sprung in my little corner of Newcastle: garish daffodils of all shapes and sizes adorn the roadsides, House Sparrows emerge from beneath the slates of terraced homes and cool yet brighter mornings are marked by the fluted notes of Song Thrush and the caterwauling of returning Lesser Black-backed Gulls.

In the small park at the end of my street, the regulars are busy. Blue Tits make tentative inspections of nestboxes lovingly placed by local volunteers, plump Woodpigeons haul twigs back and forward and each tree, whether Ash, Oak or Sycamore, seems to sport at least one bird in full song. On today’s walk, it was the Robins that sang the loudest; although the song of Greenfinch, Dunnock and Goldfinch was audible during the lulls.

There have been a few new arrivals on the local patch this week – new species to adorn the growing list of critters with whom I share my street. Among these, the oystercatcher was the loudest – shrieking at dawn as it circled the wasteland a stone’s throw from home. Doubtless, a suitable breeding site for a pioneering wader. Slightly more demur was the reed bunting – a handsome male – that turned up on the parkland pond, singing amid a stand of reeds no bigger than your average office. Not a bird I had to expect to see in the city when I set out to record the wildlife here.

Also new this week were the frogs – not that I have seen one yet. City amphibians appear far too savvy for that. No, instead I must make do with the leftovers of their nocturnal antics – several globs of spawn deposited around the margins of the pool. A promising sign that, despite everything, frogs still persist here.

Earlier, I mentioned daffodils – the flower of the moment and everyone’s favourite springtime bloom. Not mine, I’m afraid, my efforts this week focused on unearthing (figuratively speaking) other treasures along the path sides and fractured walls of the street. A successful mission, with a few new species for the patch: Green Alkanet, adorned with gorgeous, deep-blue flowers; fuzzy Common Mouse-ear and, perhaps most exciting of all, what I think could be Danish Scurvygrass. A salt-tolerant species now flourishing along the perpetually gritted motorways of the UK, growing here (ironically) outside the local salt storage depot.

Green Alkanet, Danish Scurvygrass and Common Mouse-ear

Plants need not be new to be exciting, however, and this week, the dainty white blooms of cherry plum have reigned supreme. A naturalised species in the UK, this eye-catching member of the prunus family is one of the first trees to spring to life, blooming even earlier than our native blackthorn with which it shares many similarities. Blooms which, at present, are painting my local park a beautiful white, all while providing a welcome source of nectar to the few intrepid pollinators willing to brave the chill and venture out.

The blooms of Cherry Plum in the local park

Well, that’s just about a wrap for this weeks update. Honourary mentions this week go to the Ring-necked Parakeets who, having well and truly colonised the North, appear resident on the street – flying too and fro and never failing to rattle the nerves with their piercing shouts. Somewhat less obtrusive (yet no less colourful), Goldfinches also continue to raid the feeders daily – a welcome splash of colour against a backdrop of aged brick and flaking window frames.

Enjoying a waif from the East

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of catching up with the long-staying male Black-throated Thrush at Whipsnade Zoo, in Bedfordshire (a long way from home for this Geordie).

Enjoying a scarce bird is always a pleasure but, I confess, the experience of observing just such a lost waif in the company of free-ranging South American Mara and hods of perplexed zoo-goers was certainly something new. The bird in question not at all perturbed by the crowds as it foraged for worms on the lawn by the zoo’s cafe.

Black-throated Thrush (Turdus atrogularis) is a migratory Asian species, breeding from the far East of Europe, through Siberia and down into Northern Mongolia. It is an occasional vagrant to Western Europe with this winter, in particular, seemingly a good once for this eye-catching species.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lorianne continues:

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

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

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

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

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

Some interesting records from the Woodland Trust:

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

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

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

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

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

Bringing Nature into the Music Lesson, by Frances Jones

On New Year’s Eve, in a cosy cafe over pots of tea, a friend put a question to the group: ‘So what are you going to do to save the planet this year?’ I don’t fly, and have for a long time tried to tread lightly and shop sustainably, although I can always do better. Over the following days, I mulled over the question and decided to rethink some aspects of my teaching. I currently teach music in a West Sussex primary school, which is blessed with a rural setting, planting to inspire the senses and chickens. Wanting to celebrate this in some way, I decided to integrate themes from the natural world into my music curriculum. I have linked the two in previous years but, with some creativity, I thought I could do more. In his wonderful writings on bees, Dave Goulson notes that young children are usually enthralled by nature, but lose interest as they grow up. I hoped that connecting musical learning with the natural environment might emphasis the significance of the latter, inspire the children’s creativity, and promote discussion and curiosity at a time when guardians of the planet are badly needed.

After some thought, my musical projects this term read as follows: singing and writing environmental protest songs with the oldest children; listening to and creating music descriptive of natural landscapes with the middle year groups, and exploring woodland sounds and songs with the youngest. One group will have the option to make percussion instruments at home – an opportunity to reuse and recycle. We’re just at the beginning and I will wait to see how the projects unfold.

I spend a noticeable amount of time, in January, longing for lighter evenings. Each day, when dusk begins to fall and I’m on my way home, I look upwards and will the sky to shed its sobriety and brighten. However, the silhouettes of bare trees against a sunset is a wonderful sight and makes my journey home more of a delight than a chore. Yesterday I decided to head straight out again after arriving home, inspired by the rural wooded landscape through which I had just passed and hastened by the knowledge that any last vestige of light would soon disappear. A  stone’s throw from the house is an L shaped pond, bordered on two sides by silver birch. The tall, thin trees looked elegant in this half-light; the branches an intricate patchwork, disturbed here and thereby a great clump of twigs formed into a nest. By the time I reached the other side of the pond, the scene was lit only by a solitary streetlamp and the sky was black. I hadn’t been paying attention to sound, enjoying the relative quiet, but from somewhere above my left ear came the most beautiful of songs. In the dusk, a robin, perched delicately on a branch, sang out for me alone (or so it seemed).

Recently I was looking through the news when an article on tree planting caught my eye. The accompanying picture showed a forest of young trees, which turned out to be Heartwood Forest in Hertfordshire, planted by volunteers nearly ten years ago. What were once spindly bunches of twigs have now flourished into woodland, enjoyed by wildlife and people. I was one of those volunteers and, having forgotten all about it ten years later, this story was wonderful to read. After describing the various heights of trees to rather loosely illustrate the concept of pitch with a class yesterday, I told the children about my tree planting and the resulting forest. Wouldn’t it be amazing if they planted a tree and came back to see it when they were in Year 6, I said. One child already had, and told me all about it. Get planting; it’s never too soon.