Tag: Nature

Cyclamen and Summer’s End, by Frances Jones

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

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

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

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

Top 10 Facts: Fly Agaric

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

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

Fly Agaric, spotted at Gosforth Nature Reserve

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Links

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Links

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

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

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

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

 

 

Cetaceans on the Northumbrian coast

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

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

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

White-beaked Dolphins – somewhere off the Northumberland coast

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

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

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

Walking in the Yorkshire Dales, by Frances Jones

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

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

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

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

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

Lets talk about the Tyne Kittiwakes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cover photograph by Oscar Dewhurst

Butterflies on Box Hill, by Frances Jones

After weeks of hot, dry weather, the River Mole meandering gently through its wooded valley looked particularly welcoming. Dogs were splashing about in the water and willows dipped and danced in the breeze at the water’s edge. We took the Stepping Stones across the river and headed up the path through the woods. Meadow Browns and Large Whites were busying themselves on either side and a Speckled Wood sat on a tree root in the shade while walkers passed by. The steep gradient meant we soon had views over Dorking and the surrounding area – I tried to focus on that and not the litter as we reached the viewpoint.

Keen to explore further, we doubled back and found ourselves at the National Trust visitor centre, a ubiquitous complex complete with information posters, Membership stand and union jack bunting strung around its eaves. We turned left down the hill from the Centre and passed Box Hill Fort, a former military fort long disused. The path meandered down the hill in a gulley shaded by trees,  and suddenly we found ourselves on the edge of a hillside with views of woodland in every direction. We scrambled up the bank to look more closely at the meadow flowers.

Seen at a distance, the hillside was a carpet of light brown after weeks without rain, but when we stopped we could see the purple and blues of the flowers attracting the butterflies and bees. Six-spot burnet moths were fluttering around, and bees sat atop Common Knapweed. Field scabious and other purple flowers were providing a haven for the insects and there were lots of them, buzzing industriously with only the chirping of grasshoppers for competition. We stopped to observe a Six-spot burnet moth which was perched on a Common Knapweed, its antennae moving gently back and forth and with little intention of moving.  Close by, another was hanging upside down on a blade of grass, looking for all the world like a dozing sloth. Meadow Browns and Marbled Whites fluttered around us and, having paused to look at the view, I was thrilled to see an Adonis Blue flutter and perch on the ground in front of our feet. This butterfly had chosen the wrong place to stop, however, as the approaching tread of walkers saw him take flight.

A few seconds later, and I noticed a tiny brown butterfly close to the ground. It resembled a Skipper, but, not being able to observe it closely, I couldn’t be sure which one it was. We took the path through the woods which, after a short stretch along the road, led back to the river. In front of us was a steep wooded cliff face, and we realised we had been on the other side in the meadow a short while before. In the riverside meadow Small Whites fluttered across our path and, once again, the cool water was refreshing, even to look at. The green of the trees in the surrounding woodland seemed to defy the current drought, but the cracked ground was a clear sign that rain was needed. This was a lovely walk and it was wonderful to see that the populations of certain butterfly species appeared to be in good shape in this part of the country.

All photos courtesy of Stephanie Bull

Chris Packham’s UK Bioblitz comes to Newcastle

Have you heard of Chris Packham’s UK Bioblitz?  If not, it’s essentially a ten-day tour of 50 wildlife sites scattered across Scotland, Northern Ireland, England and Wales, conducted in an effort to highlight the extent to which our nation’s wildlife is under threat. With all data collected on the whirlwind tour being used to create a benchmark that will help measure the rise and fall in numbers of different species in the future.

On Wednesday I had the pleasure of attending one such bioblitz as a representative of the Natural History Society of Northumbria and, after a most enjoyable day in the field, can safely say that I had a blast. Sure, it was lovely to meet Chris himself – he may well be one of the most courteous and knowledgeable media personalities I have ever met – but the real joy was watching myriad people, young and old, wholly engrossed in the natural world.

 

The event itself took place at Havannah and Three Hills Nature Reserve: a remarkable swath of woodland, lowland heath, meadow and wetland located on the fringe of Newcastle. An urban site boasting a spectacular array of wildlife, Havana is both accessible and incredibly diverse and it was delightful to delve a little further into its ecological makeup. With personal highlights including rare Stags-Horn Clubmoss, Willow Tit, Red Squirrel, a glut of Small Heath butterflies and my first Mottled Grasshopper – a common species yet one I have previously overlooked.

Elsewhere at Havana, diligent recorders of all ages sported smiles as they foraged for fungi, ogled Nursery-Web spiders and netted a host of invertebrates ranging from opulent looking froghoppers to familiar Six-spot Burnets. Roe Deer were seen,  buzzards mewed overhead throughout our stay and both clegs and ticks made much less welcome appearances throughout. Including one of the latter found lodged on my knee upon my return home.

Bioblitzes are always good fun; though, beyond that, they serve two incredibly vital purposes: they facilitate the submission of vital ecological records to Environmental Records Committees – used to track natures pulse and advise on decisions likely to impact upon the natural world – and they engage and enthuse the public. This event did both, and while I do not yet know the total species count for the day, I do know that many people had a whale of a time. Learning from experts in a plethora of fields in a wonderful outdoor setting, it doesn’t get much better than that, does it?

 

Hairstreaks in the morning sun

Traversing the dappled woodland of Gosforth Park Nature Reserve earlier today, I had only one thing in mind: hairstreaks. Purple hairstreaks, to be precicse, Neozephyrus quercus, a remarkable, handsome butterfly that spends the majority of its time high in the canopy. Feasting on honeydew in close proximity to the species larval food plant, oak.

Unlike most butterflies, purple hairstreaks seldom descend to ground level, making them altogether difficult to see. Imagine my excitement then, when high in a sunny glade, two petite butterflies took flight from the upper echelons of an oak. Twisting round and around in territorial (or romantic) dispute as they spiralled upwards towards the pinnacle of their makeshift arena. Before that is, action ceased and both butterflies returned to their respective perches –  activity muted again for the time being. A faint flash of purple in my binoculars the only indication that, after years of failed attempts, I had finally caught up with my quarry.

Unique in a local sense, the woodlands of Gosforth Park have a queer effect on the mind: making it not just possible, but also quite easy, to imagine yourself elsewhere. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city located a mere stones through from the reserve and instead, somewhere truly, deeply, wild.  Indeed, the site is a veritable oasis, my short loop through its wooded peripheries this morning revealing some real gems. An Emporer dragonfly hawking a sunny glade; a roe deer, engrossed in the process of pruning an ash sapling; two jays, vocal as they scorned as passing sparrowhawk; and dozens upon dozens of common yet appealing invertebrates. Two of which – the Comma and Common Darter pictured below – posed conveniently for a photo or two.

Comma and Common Darter – Gosforth Park Nature Reserve

One thing I was not expecting, following my success with the dainty purple butterflies and the glut of other wild offerings on show, was a second new experience. An encounter with a species that, before now, had been enjoyed only in fleeting glimpses, absent time to savour. Sure enough, however, as I departed the reserve, my attention was drawn to a small butterfly flitting around the lower branches of a stunted Wych Elm. Adrenaline pulsing as I moved closer, confirming expectations: a White-letter Hairstreak. And a little corker if I may say so myself, exquisite and fresh.

While Purple Hairstreaks are reasonably abundant in the local area, the same cannot be said for their close cousin. Indeed, White-letter Hairstreaks declined markedly following the outbreak of Dutch Elm disease in the 1960’s and still, to this day, find themselves listed as a “high priority” species by Butterfly Conservation. As a species, they are also right on the edge of their range here in the North East; thus today’s encounter was a special one. Both as a result of rarity, and the sheer beauty of the butterfly involved. Indeed, I had not realised just how attractive they are: sporting their radiant orange flash, namesake white ribbons and curious looking, vividly marked ‘tails’.

White-letter Hairstreak – Gosforth Park Nature Reserve

The Wildlife of Brompton Cemetery, by Frances Jones

Rising particularly early one morning and feeling it was a good time to get outdoors, I set off for Brompton Cemetery in West London.

I have travelled past this cemetery many times on the bus but have only once visited, on a similarly warm summer’s day when I took a book to a stone archway and enjoyed a couple of hours’ quiet. Walking under the fine stone arch of the North Lodge entrance, I took a turning to my left and within seconds a meadow brown fluttered in haste across my path. The gravestones were overgrown with sweet peas which grew in abundance in shades of pink and purple. Also striking was the bright yellow of ragwort, which was growing up between many of the headstones and was supporting lots of stripy black and yellow caterpillars. I bent down to observe one more closely. It was munching a leaf and holding on with its front legs. It had quite a cute face and up close rather resembled an elongated stripy teddy bear. These were caterpillars of the cinnabar moth and brightly marked to discourage predators.

I straightened up and, as I paused to find my sun cream (the sun was bright, even at this time) a marbled white fluttered across my path and stopped on a leaf within full view, obligingly opening its wings so I could see its markings. I had, that morning, been reading an article on brown butterflies by Butterfly Conservation’s Dr Sam Ellis and was delighted to see a marbled white at close range with such relative ease. The overgrown tangle of grasses, bracken and wildflowers was clearly perfect territory as I noticed several more over the next hour. I was reminded of Patrick Barkham’s great search for butterflies in his book, The Butterfly Isles; there’s a lot of joy in seeing butterflies. Meadow browns and gatekeepers fluttered about, sunning themselves and providing me with ample time for observation.

A variety of trees provided habitat for birds, and I watched several great tits darting around in the branches above my head. The pine trees, the Classical architecture of the mausoleums and the bright blue, cloudless sky gave me the feeling of being in Italy and all was calm with only the gentlest of breezes. Every now and then a magpie squawked from within a tree. I wound my way along the narrower paths, out of the way of early morning joggers. A blackbird tripped daintily in front of me whilst pigeons took flight from the undergrowth as I approached. To one side of the catacombs, I passed a yew tree, which was appropriate in this space reserved for the departed. In the Great Circle, an area of gravestones surrounded by the catacombs and marked at the top by the Chapel, the mood changed drastically. The grass had been assiduously mown and with the absence of green – the lack of rain meant the grass was mostly a dull brown –  a sombre mood took over. The buildings are impressive and worth a look. It is also possible to visit the catacombs, on certain days and only with a guide.

Having paused briefly at the Chapel, I headed back towards the entrance. The gravestones on the left-hand side were well-maintained and there was less diversity of wildlife here. I crossed over the main path to finish my visit on the right-hand side, where I had begun, amongst the cheerful colours of sweet peas and foxgloves. Maintaining this space is clearly a big job – I also noticed brambles, thistles and the rampant white flowers of bindweed spreading their way over some of the headstones – but less regular mowing has allowed the wildlife to thrive. I was thankful to visit in the quiet of a Saturday morning, but, even at busy times, I imagine the cemetery is still something of an oasis.

I had reached the entrance; by this time, the traffic was in full flow and the city had woken up.

Broad-bodied Chaser

A quick visit to Gosforth  Park Nature Reserve today came up trumps with my first ever Broad-bodied Chaser (Libellula depressa). Now, this is a relatively common species, doubtless familiar to many of you, but as someone only just beginning their journey into the frustrating, complicated but altogether fun realm of dragonflies, this individual gave cause for quite a bit of excitement. Abundant, yes, but beautiful – boasting a superb, smoky blue colouration to its abdomen and whilst posed conveniently on a stick, providing uncharacteristically good views. I even managed some half-decent photos…

Call for public support towards a wilder Scotland

Golden eagles, beavers, ospreys and pine martens will take centre stage in a landmark new conservation book aiming to inspire a change in attitudes and a move towards a wilder Scotland.

Scotland: A Rewilding Journey will lay out a vision of how rewilding could transform Scotland and benefit its people and wildlife.  It is being supported by a crowdfunding appeal launched by conservation charity Trees for Life.

The book, to be published this autumn, is written and edited by some of Scotland’s most prominent conservationists – including John Lister-Kaye and Duncan Halley – with stunning images from many of the country’s top nature photographers, who have spent three years capturing the beauty and drama of Scotland’s wild landscapes and wildlife.

Steve Micklewright, Trees for Life’s Chief Executive, writes:

“Despite its raw beauty, the Scottish landscape is today an ecological shadow of its former self. It wasn’t so long ago that vibrant, wild forest stretched across much of Scotland, with beavers and cranes at home in extensive wetlands, salmon and trout filling rivers, and lynx and wild boar roaming in woodlands.

“Yet now our large carnivores are extinct, our woodlands reduced to small fragments, and a degraded landscape supporting little life stretches across millions of acres. But it doesn’t have to be this way. This book will be a major rallying call for rewilding – helping to make Scotland a place where nature works, wildlife flourishes and people prosper.”

Trees for Life is the main sponsor of the book, which is also being supported by Reforesting Scotland, Rewilding Britain, The Borders Forest Trust, and Woodland Trust Scotland.

The book will be published by SCOTLAND: The Big Picture (www.scotlandbigpicture.com), a non-profit social enterprise that includes many leading nature photographers and film-makers, and which promotes the benefits of a wilder Scotland for people and wildlife through stunning visual media.

Trees for Life’s crowdfunding campaign runs from 25 June-23 July 2018, and offers people the opportunity to support publication of the book and its urgent conservation message by helping to raise £20,000. A range of rewards for supporters include a stay in a wilderness cabin, wildlife photography workshops, fine art posters and signed editions of the publication.

Photographer and Director of SCOTLAND: The Big Picture, Peter Cairns – who is editing the book with Susan Wright – writes:

“Scotland: A Rewilding Journey will lay out a powerful vision for a future Scotland, where eagles soar, red squirrels forage and beavers engineer new wetlands.

“It is being published at a tipping point in the history of Scotland’s landscapes, with a growing understanding of the benefits of a wilder environment for people and nature. We want the book to ignite fresh conversations and forge new relationships with the people who shape Scotland’s landscapes – including key landowners, policy makers and rural interest groups.”

Adding: “Worldwide, short-term economics are wrecking nature – sometimes irreversibly. Our climate is changing, species are being lost forever, and vital natural resources such as clean air and water are under threat. Everyone who supports Scotland: A Rewilding Journey will be helping to make the case for a new approach, in which Scotland is a world leader in environmental repair and restoration.”

Trees for Life works to restore Scotland’s ancient Caledonian Forest and its unique wildlife. For over 25 years, the award-winning charity has been pioneering ecological restoration or rewilding. Its long-term vision is to restore natural forests to a vast area of the Scottish Highlands, including its 10,000-acre Dundreggan Estate in Glenmoriston. See www.treesforlife.org.uk.

To support the crowdfunding campaign, visit crowdfunder.co.uk/rewilding.

Red Squirrel © scotlandbigpicture.com

Cover image: Eurasian Beaver © scotlandbigpicture.com

Green space and stormy skies, a guest post by Frances Jones

After a hot and busy day, I decided to take a walk to a nearby patch of green. Clouds were moving in and the breeze became stronger and wonderfully refreshing after the intensity of the June sun. This particular London common is divided in two by a road busy at rush hour with cars and cyclists and the two halves are quite different. The south section adjacent to the church is kept mown and enjoyed by dog walkers, joggers and people who come to sit and, in summer, to sunbathe. Yesterday a game of cricket was taking place, adding to the image of quintessential village life in the midst of the capital. Cross the road and you step into a meadow where the grass is left to grow and the edges are densely lined with trees. To my right was a copse of young oaks and beeches; a dog rose made a splash of soft but sparky pink and a cherry tree was providing a playground for young squirrels.

I decided to do a circuit of the common; a stroll and the sight of green was really what I wanted. A few paces on and I stopped to look more closely at the grasses. The textures varied a lot; one had a silky feel whilst looking like a horse’s mane and another had a purple hue which gave the meadow its mauve tint when seen in this stormy early evening light. Cow parsley stood tall, strikingly silhouetted against the sky. Clover lay close to the ground, its white flowers gleaming brightly in the midst of the green, and a delicate light pink flower entwined itself around the grasses. A tortoiseshell fluttered up in front of me as I stepped off the path to take a closer look. A moment later the sky became darker and I felt a drop of rain but the ground was dry and the wildlife would no doubt welcome the downpour. The mature trees edging the common all made their own shape on the horizon and together created a beautiful backdrop of soft lines and shades of green.

Perhaps it was the recent announcement of Heathrow’s expansion that made me subconsciously more sensitive to air traffic as I strolled out this midsummer evening. The contrast of the aircraft noise with this peaceful space was acute and there was no easy way to ignore it. I choose, for the moment, to live in the capital but to argue that I could move, though valid, is side-stepping the issue. It can be easy to feel despair at decisions taken by those in public office when they are not in agreement with your own views, and, as I headed home, I took care to notice the uplifting; a red rose growing over the railway, the shading branches of a horse chestnut tree. To paraphrase Simon Barnes in his book How to be a Bad Birdwatcher, just seeing and noticing is an act of rebellion. There is much to make the heart sing if we go about with eyes and ears open. Valuing the natural world is the first step to looking after it.

 

Rose-coloured Starling

I’ve had very little time this week for my usual outdoor pursuits, largely owing to a growing workload and a multitude of mounting side projects. That said, yesterday I managed an all too brief outing in search of a bird I have wanted to see for many years: a Rose-coloured Starling. A rare vagrant to British shores from Eastern Europe and middle-Asia, where the species breed before migrating South, to India and Pakistan, during the Winter.

This confiding individual – a superb adult – has been gracing the chimney pots, gardens and bird-feeders of Ashington, in Northumberland, for two days now. And while I would much rather have caught up with my quarry amid a more natural and less intimidating setting (Ashington, for those unaware, has a reputation for being somewhat rough), I am thrilled to have enjoyed a good half-hour in the company of this particular bird. It’s delightful mix of faded pink, iridescent blue and intricately marked brown complimented marvellously by the current bout of fine, Spring weather.

Usually in a post such as this, I would go to great lengths to waffle on about the encounter, its significance and story; however, on this occasion, I think I will let pictures do the talking. For once, owing largely to the birds less than timid demeanour, I managed some rather good ones…

1 / 6