Tag: Nature

Glossy Ibis and more

 

Spring has sprung, at long last. And all about my local area, the sapphire blooms of English bluebell mingle with the garish, Simpson-yellow of lesser celandine and the pristine white of flowering wood anemone. The air encompassing them ripe with the stench of ramsons carried on the breeze and nearby waterways – the ponds, streams and ditches that crisscross the landscape here – choked with riving masses of Amphibian spawn, just about ready to hatch. In the hedgerows, myriad insects buzz, spurred on by rising temperatures, and in the woodlands, trees stir as the canopy is painted green once more. A canopy which now, during the heyday of Spring, plays host to countless migrant birds, fresh from their travels and engrossed in the process of attracting a mate.

On the subject of migrant birds, I have enjoyed nearly the full array this week. Hoards of hirundines – swallows and martins – hawking for insects over bustling waterbodies; Blackcaps and Whitethroats uttering erratic bursts of song from within lime-green hawthorns; and even Swifts, that most iconic of May arrivals, screeching as they hunt in whirling arcs above street, field and copse. The occurrence of these resurgent wonders interspersed by other heralds of this most joyous of seasons: by reeling grasshopper warblers, hidden from sight yet conspicuous to the ear; and by common sandpipers, sedge warblers, whimbrel and dazzling yellow wagtails. Familiar species, longed for since they departed, who liven up my rural walks – replacing the redwing, fieldfare and waxwing that reigned supreme previously.

Of course, given the tumultuous nature of the season, the unfamiliar has also featured in my escapades of late. Manifested in the occurrence of birds I am not accustomed to seeing with any degree of frequency. Garganey and Black-necked Grebe, scarce wanderers, dropping in locally on route to their breeding grounds. The latter, a species currently teetering on a knife edge in this country, savoured as it fished, content, adjacent to a local bird hide. This individual just starting moult into its renowned, and rather beautiful, Summer plumage. As for the Garganey, the drakes (of which three were seen) appeared sublime in their alternating shades of brown, white and angelic, sky-blue – far more demure than the vibrant tones some of our more abundant ducks yet, in their own way, perfect.

Black-necked Grebe – Druridge Pools, Northumberland

Despite their allure, both grebe and duck have, this week, found themselves eclipsed. Cast into obscurity by the arrival of a far more unusual visitor: a glossy ibis. A bird I have observed to no end in Spain, yet one I had not, until now,  encountered here, in my slightly cooler homeland. The bird in question – shown below – showing marvellously on a flooded field – catching earthworms in it’s near preposterously long and downcurved bill before tossing them back with gusto, in a jerky motion unique to long-legged wading bird such as this. Engrossing as it went about its business unperturbed by the crowd of admiring apes amassing mere feet away.

It is easy to see where this species gets its name, beautifully iridescent or dull, unassuming brown depending on the light. Ascetics reminiscent of the Ibis’s patron: the Egyptian god Thoth. A deity in the ancient pantheon often depicted with the head of an Ibis and credited as the inventor of writing, and alphabets. Indeed, watching the bird closely, a distinct sense of regality was observed of which I am sure its mythological counterpart would be proud.

 

 

 Glossy Ibis – Druridge Pools, Northumberland

As the calendar advances and the last vestiges of our lastest, stubborn Winter finally dissipate, I find myself drawn increasingly into the avian world. Not because birds, in spite of their beauty and appeal, are somehow grander than other life, but because unlike plants, amphibians and even mammals – whose occurrence and actions one can quite easily, with some research, predict – they are erratic. Unpredictable in their movements to such an extent that one can never really know what will occur next, or what to expect.

Grey Heron – Cresswell Pond, Northumberland

An update from the birdtable

It won’t have escaped your attention – at least if you follow me on Twitter – that, just over a month ago now, myself and my partner erected a new feeding station in the front ‘garden’ of his home in the centre of Heaton, Newcastle. Big woop, you might say; though please bare in mind that this is not exactly your typical garden. Rather a 2x2m stretch of cold, grey concrete boasting one measly shrub, positioned right next to a busy road and, worse still, outside and adjacent the front doors of multiple student abodes. Indeed, before this, we were yet to see a bird in the garden. Not a single one. Little wonder really given the constant noise and clamour.

It’s not much, really…

Well, after kitting out the towering stand of cast iron with myriad tasty morsels ranging from sunflower hearts and peanuts, to suet balls and mealworms, I have been watching the proceedings daily – spurred on by claims on social media that, no matter the location, if you provide, they will come. Something that now, after countless vigils, I know to be true.

Sure, given our location we were never going to attract the sweeping accumulations of your typical, rural garden; though what I have observed thus far has been promising. A pair of Dunnocks were first to arrive, now present daily and looking as if they are nesting in the lonely Privet pictured above. House Sparrows came next, and though their visits to date have been fleeting, they are growing in regularity – with the same being said for the Blackbirds and Blue Tits sporadically gracing us with there presence. Singles of Goldfinch and Magpie and a pair of gluttonous Woodpiegons complete the set.

Now, these scant avian visitors may do little to excite readers of this blog: those accustomed to busy feeders and great gatherings of scarce or appealing species in their gardens. To me, however, they represent a victory. A little slice of the natural world right in the heart of the city that can be enjoyed daily – though most often with a coffee in the early morning.

I wonder what will arrive next? My money is on a Robin, or perhaps a Starling; though I did observe a Collared Dove inspecting matters from a neighbours roof yesterday…

Pigeon and Pie – our two visiting Woodpigeons

Northumberland’s Wild Interior

Uncharacteristically, I haven’t managed many far-flung ventures of late – the combined result of some drastic life changes, a busy schedule and the build-up of myriad more menial tasks. This, of course, has frustrated me to no end, boiling over with a snap decision this past Saturday to drop everything and travel outwards: inland to the wild uplands of my home county. Northumberland, for those not in the know…

Truthfully, we could not have wished for better weather on our outing: bright yet chilly sunshine, half-hearted, almost enjoyable showers and, better still, only the faintest whisper of wind making for a pleasant day as we traversed the surrounds of Harwood Forest in search of, well, anything really. The morning beginning with a flurry of excitement as, from a well known local watchpoint, we caught sight of two Goshawk’ drifting in slow circles above a bottle-green stand of Sitka and Norway Spruce. A hell of a bird, to say the least, usually elusive (often infuriatingly so) drawn out into the open due to the pressing need to court and breed. Marvellous, and a first for Matt.

Here too, no less than seven Buzzards rode the thermals – staying clear of the aforementioned hawks as they drifted upwards, casting vulturine shadows on the woodland and heath below. Joined, on this occasion, by a pair of Kestrel – engrossed in similar, amorous behaviour – and, better still, two Raven. The fabled jet-black corvids kronking loudly as they passed overhead en route elsewhere. A fabulous start to the day – the experience and refreshing feel of “proper” wilderness only amplified by the vocal antics of multiple singing Skylark; the repeated alarm calls of a particularly perturbed Red Grouse and the rich, evocative melody of a Song Thrush positioned high in a roadside conifer.

Moving briefly away from the impenetrable margins of Harwood, a female Merlin lifted from the roadside – passing a few meters in front of the car with uncanny grace before proceeding to quarter a heather-clad bank to the East. A bird I enjoyed, to no end, during my time in the Highlands of Scotland but one I see far too little of here: a moorland sprite and a sight to be savoured.

It did not take us long to reverse our earlier decision to head out over the moor: the ground was soaking, rendering our boots useless, and we quickly grew tired of the slow, squelching march. Instead, we decided on a walk through the forest itself, spending two hours or so wandering a variety of well-worn forestry tracks. Hemmed in, at times, by the hulking frames of the assorted confiders – destined for eventual felling – and, at others, liberated by open vistas and extensive woodland clearings. It was the subtle signs of the changing season that held our attention here: frogspawn in temporary forest floods and the song of countless tits, finches and thrushes; the radiant blooms of pioneering Coltsfoot and the sound of chattering squirrels concealed amid the gloom. Each and all an indicator of exciting times still to come as the year progresses.

This being a coniferous plantation – albeit one of impressive magnitude – the wildlife here was typical of such habitat. Species abundant inland yet few and far between in the coastal reaches I call home: Siskin and Lesser Redpoll in impressive numbers, rust-coloured Crossbills perched high in the canopy and a lone Green Woodpecker doing its damndest to frustrate as it called incessantly, yet remained invisible within the thick wall of encroaching trees. It’s pronounced yaffling taking on almost a taunting nature as the bird eluded us for a good quarter-hour – finally giving itself up and permitting a brief glimpse as it dropped down to the roadside a stone’s throw from our parked car.

Heading home, it was the distinct feeling of rejuvenation that defined our journey. Perhaps a result of the gradual shifts observed this day in nature, as Winter finally yields to Spring, or perhaps due to our own relief. Nature has a habit of refreshing the mind and, while they are far from perfect, our uplands boast the uncanny ability to centre the mind: casting out stresses and troubled thoughts and, ultimately, uplifting those who choose to visit.

Winters Gibbet – the site at which William Winter lost his lift for the crime of murder during the year of  1791.

RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch – My Results

There is still time this weekend to take part in the RSPB’s annual Big Garden Birdwatch – a fabulous (and fun) scheme which contributes greatly to the knowledge surrounding our garden birds. Highlighting current trends, increases, decreases and eruptions in avian populations through the power of citizen science. To take part, you only need a garden or, for those of you like me lacking in this regard, a local greenspace.

For my BBGW efforts this year I focused on two urban parks in Newcastle, dedicating an hour of my time to each over the course of this morning. The first, Iris Brickfield Park, is more or less your typical urban greenspace, boasting little more than an extensive field, a small pond and a series of scrubby areas. Surrounded entirely by housing, the results of the survey here (shown below) were more or less typical for this type of setting.

As you can see, seven of the species seen here also featured in the national top ten from 2017. Albeit in a somewhat different order. For example, my most numerous species, the Goldfinch, features at number one here compared to number six nationally; while House Sparrow takes the number six spot compared to number one nationally. It is little wonder Goldfinch snatched the top spot – they have, after all, increased substantially over recent years – though it was still heartening to record at least some Starlings and House Sparrows. Here Coal tit just edged out the remaining two species seen on my visit – Feral Pigeon and Great Tit – to secure its place in the top ten.

My second site was – Heaton Park – was a much more appealing prospect for a bird survey; boasting no end of mature trees, dense cover and even a small stream on its peripheries. The diversity of the habitat hearing resulting in the surprise addition of Kingfisher to this mornings list (my first in the city) and two Moorhens. Still, if you look at the results below, they remain somewhat true to the national trends…

Here, Goldfinch again snatched the top spot – owing to the charm of fifteen birds putting in an appearance towards the end of my watch – and Woodpigeon, Blue Tit, Blackbird and Carrion Crow featured prominently, once again. At number four on my list, Blue Tit matches its position in the national rankings from last year.

Today’s results are more or less what I expected from this years BGBW (minus the Kingfisher), though there were a few notable omissions. Bullfinch, usually abundant here, were completing absent, as were Greenfinch – little wonder given the state of the wider population. Similarly, not one Collared Dove, Chaffinch or Song Thrush was seen during the course of the morning; although this was offset somewhat by the appearance of Long-tailed Tit and Great Spotted Woodpecker.

This may not be interesting to you guys at home, but to me, it’s positively riveting.

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

The enigmatic High Brown Fritillary, the UK’s most endangered butterfly, has been thrown a vital lifeline in 2018 through the creation of a new conservation project led by the National Trust and partners. With the charity now embarking on an ambitious plan to develop 60 hectares of lowland heath and wood pasture – the butterfly’s principal habitat – to give it a fighting chance for the future. The project has been made possible as part of a £750k award made to the Trust by players of People’s Postcode Lottery.

 Over the last 50 years, the UK population of High Brown Fritillaries has declined rapidly due to changes in woodland management and, more recently, the abandonment of marginal hill land. Butterflies, including the High Brown Fritillary, need large areas of the countryside to survive in good numbers, and their populations have struggled where these habitats have been overwhelmed by pressures from agriculture and development. Additionally, it is thought that climate change and nitrogen deposition from the atmosphere are almost certainly contributing to the High Brown’s demise. Overall, the UK population has declined by 66% since the 1970s.

 The £100k project will focus on restoring parts of the natural landscape along the Exmoor and North Devon coast to make it more suitable for the butterfly. Other wildlife including the Heath Fritillary, Nightjar and Dartford warbler will also benefit, it is thought.

 Matthew Oates, National Trust nature expert and butterfly enthusiast, said, “We’ve witnessed a catastrophic decline of many native butterfly populations in recent decades but initiatives like this can really help to turn the tide. Combined with increased recording and monitoring efforts, there is significant hope for some of our most threatened winged insects.

 The support we have from players of People’s Postcode Lottery for nature conservation, alongside continued support for Heritage Open Days, is a wonderful boost to our work in 2018.”

 Jenny Plackett, Butterfly Conservation’s Senior Regional Officer, said: “We’ve been working with the National Trust for many years to reverse the declines in the High Brown Fritillary on Exmoor, and I’m thrilled that players of People’s Postcode Lottery are supporting important management work in this landscape. Exmoor’s Heddon Valley supports the strongest population of High Brown Fritillary in England, but even here the butterfly remains at risk, and ongoing efforts to restore habitat and enable the butterfly to expand are crucial to its survival.”

As well as helping secure the future of High Brown Fritillaries, the £750k award from players of People’s Postcode Lottery will be used to fund several other National Trust conservation projects, along with continuing support for Heritage Open Days. They include:

  • Woodland management, pond creation, building bat boxes and installing infra-red cameras to monitor bat populations in the South Downs.
  • Restoring wildflower meadows along the Durham coast to help ground nesting birds such as skylarks and lapwings.
  • Planting hornbeam, beech and field maple trees at Woodside Green near Hatfield Forest.
  • Restoring grasslands and wildflower meadows along the North Pembrokeshire coast, helping birds including chough.
  • Protecting and restoring chalk grasslands at the White Cliffs of Dover, following players’ support towards the acquisition of land immediately behind the cliff face in 2017.

Header Image: Matthew Oates, courtesy of National Trust images.

Top 10 Facts: Lords and Ladies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Winter walking at Bakethin

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

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

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

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

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

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

The health benefits of a life in nature, a guest post by Holly Genevieve

Being outside in nature is something that everybody should make time for, especially as we are becoming such a digitally driven society.

It’s interesting because it’s not until you spend time outdoors (whether it’s a walk by a river, a day in the countryside or a woodland hike), that you feel the incredible effects of the great outdoors. It can be very easy to become accustomed to the indoor world; you spend your days in the city, time in the office and then hurry home to collapse in the comfort of your home. But, if you’re someone like me who needs time outside to remain sane, then you’ll already be sat here thinking ‘That’s right girl, preach IT!’. For those who are sceptical, then read on…

Whilst I am a personal advocate for being in nature, this is not just my opinion. Researchers and scientists have already produced a mass of evidence that indicates that nature is good for us, and has both long and short-term mental and physical health benefits.

Nature puts things into perspective. There is no social influence when outdoors. It is just you and nature, so you are free to wander life in its purest form. It has wonderful calming effects and reminds you that chaos and harmony are mutually exclusive to living life. The natural world shows us that storms can wreak havoc, but simultaneously hundreds of animals and plants live together in one small habitat. This is the way the ecosystem works – each species contributes to a greater balance as they coexist. When I think about it like this, I can’t help but think humans could do with taking note.

The benefits of nature have fascinated scientists for many years, and hundreds of studies have been done which prove its healing properties. One study found that just looking at natural scenery activates parts of the brain associated with balance and happiness. In a study at South Korea’s Chonnam National University, FMRI scans showed that when subjects saw images of mountains, forests, and other landscapes, they experienced heightened activity in the anterior cingulate gyrus (which is linked to positive outlook and emotional stability) and the basal ganglia (an area that’s been tied to the recollection of happy memories).

A study in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that a small group of subjects who strolled through nature for just an hour and a half reported a reduction in negative thoughts. How amazing is that?! Just finding an hour and a half in your day or week to be outdoors can have a remarkable and positive effect on your mindset, meaning unhealthy habits such as drinking and shopping to make yourself feel better can be a think of the past.

Most significantly, nature is a HUGE stress buster. During my degree, I was always finding ways to get out of the city and library. I went on so many day adventures and walks in Leigh Woods, because it was literally the only way for me to de-stress (as well as the gym!). So, feeling stressed and tense? Head for the trees! Researchers have spent many years looking into the effects forests have on humans. One study found a decrease in both heart rate and levels of cortisol in subjects in the forest when compared to those in the city. ‘Stressful states can be relieved by forest therapy’ they concluded.

This makes me particularly happy because forests are my favourite places in the entire world. They are the one place where I feel relaxed and calm. The sound and smells of the forest are the most wonderful thing, and wherever I live, I will always make sure woods are nearby!

So, how do we find the time to bask in nature’s glory when our lives are already so busy? Well, if you live in the city, it can be as simple as taking a walk in the sun on your lunch break (or if it’s autumnal like now, find an area with some beautiful orange and red trees), going for a jog around the park before work, or taking a mini trip to the woods on the weekend.

If you’re looking for a proper escape, I would recommend camping. It’s the best way to really get yourself away from technology and emerge yourself into the outdoors.  Although it’s not your comfy hotel experience, you will feel really good after doing it. Camping is such a fun thing to do, and it’s rarely uneventful. In the last few years, I have camped on top of a waterfall, with nothing but a sleeping bag and a camp fire; I have wild camped in the Spanish countryside, sleeping in a hammock under the stars;  and I have camped in Ireland in the Wicklow Mountains, during a massive storm that made it quite an eventful night. I didn’t get much sleep, but I did return to England with lower stress levels, feeling good afer a weekend of hiking in the mountains and feeling more positive about myself.

Canoeing is also another really fun outdoorsy activity and not too expensive. Bring along a picnic and some music and I promise that you will have the best day ever.

To finish off, I want to highlight how beneficial the outdoors is for mental health problems, especially in wake of the mental health awareness that has been taking place on social media. As someone who has experienced both depression and anxiety, I found that not only did being in nature improve my stress levels and made me feel really good, it also helped relieve my anxiety and depression. This was especially the case when combined with exercise, so often I would go for a run through the woods behind my house, or round some of the big parks in Bristol. Scientists have found that walks in the forest specifically are associated with decreased levels of anxiety and heavy feelings, and a study found that outdoor walks could be ‘useful clinically as a supplement to existing treatments’ for the major depressive disorder.

‘Every green environment improved both self-esteem and mood’, found an analysis of 10 earlier studies about so-called ‘green exercise’.  The presence of water made the positive effects even stronger, so if you have a river nearby, then head down!

Remember, it is important to take care of both your mind and your body, and you can do both by stepping outside your door!

Holly Genevieve is a blogger and writer. She maintains a lifestyle blog, Genevieve Rose, which can be found here: https://genevieverosesite.wordpress.com/contact/genevieve-rose-about/

New Nature Issue 12!

It’s December, the blushed tones of Autumn now but a fading memory and vibrant greens of Spring and Summer a soothing promise of things to come. Outside, the air resonates with the nasally honking call of migrant geese and our fields and hedgerows have been overtaken by thrushes from afar: by redwings, fieldfares and immigrant blackbirds. It is a time of cold, dulcet tones and unfavourable weather yes, but also a time of wonder. A time of splendid wildlife, thrilling vistas and unforgettable wild experiences.

This December marks a milestone for the team at New Nature Magazine; an event myself and the other editors have been looking forward to for some time. Yes, this month marks the end of one full year of New Nature. The end result? Twelve issues published, hundreds of topics covered, two major events attended and a reach that now extends far beyond what I, personally, had even dared hope for. Better still, however, is the
fact that during our first year we have brought the views of almost one-hundred incredibly passionate young naturalists to an audience of thousands. Allowing them to have their say and discuss the topics which, as young environmentalists, interest them the most.

This issue, the final edition of 2017, continues along a similar, exciting vain. Here you will find talk of eco-friendly snorkelling with globally endangered species, right here in the UK; as well as evocative writing centred on the Hebrides, robins and wildfowl. Conservation is well represented too, in the form of a wonderful piece on otters by Helina Hickey; while youth nature, as ever, can be found in abundance. Brought to you on this occasion by New Nature stalwart Zach Haynes and newcomer Georgie Lamb.

We hope that you enjoy this issue as much as we have enjoyed producing it and very much hope that you will stick with New Nature through to the New Year and beyond. Big plans are afoot behind the scenes and with our team now back to full strength and raring to go, 2018 looks set to be another fantastic year for us as both a free, enjoyable magazine and a fledgeling community of cracking young writers.

The latest edition of New Nature can be downloaded here: https://t.co/fcjoNyMznt

Initial steps taken to combat Puffin declines

The RSPB’s Project Puffin has taken the first steps towards solving the mystery of why some puffin colonies in the UK are in dramatic decline. To do this, RSPB scientists analysed more than 1400 photos sent in by the public, helping them to build a better picture of what these iconic seabirds are feeding their chicks.

Each Spring, the UK coastline comes alive with the sight, sound and smell of puffins nesting and raising their young, known as pufflings. With their bright orange bills and distinctive eye markings people from around the world visit puffin hotspots in the UK and Ireland to photograph the bustling colonies. However, in recent years puffin numbers have plummeted at some colonies, and experts estimate that without help more than half the global puffin population will disappear within the next forty years.

 In the summer, RSPB scientists set out to understand more about the differing fortunes of puffins around our coasts. The project aimed to capture a snapshot of what puffins are feeding their young at as many colonies as possible, as it is thought their food supply has been negatively impacted by warming seas and shifting ocean currents. By enlisting the help of the public, also known as the ‘Puffarazzi’, 1402 photos of puffins bringing food to their chicks were sent to the team.

 The photos have helped scientists identify areas where puffins are struggling to find the large, nutritious fish needed to support their chicks. Early results suggest that the diet of puffins vary significantly around the UK – in the northern isles of Orkney and Shetland, where serious puffin declines have been seen, puffins appear to be consistently finding smaller prey compared to most other colonies.

 Traditionally puffins feed on a mixture of fish, but with nutritious sandeels making up a high proportion of their diet. The photos from puffin colonies in northwest Scotland show that sandeels are making up about half of their diet compared to the two-thirds at colonies in southern Scotland, northern England and Wales.

 Ellie Owen, RSPB Conservation Scientist leading the Project Puffin team, said: “Puffins colourful bills and unique eye markings make them a favourite bird to photograph. The huge response to our appeal for photos has been incredible, with more than a thousand submitted. It’s taken the team of staff and volunteers more than three months to go through them all.

 “For a young puffin waiting in its burrow, its life hangs on whether its parents return with enough food. An abundant supply of large, nutritious fish such as sandeels, sprats and herrings is key to healthy colonies. The public response means we’re getting data on a scale that we’ve never been able to collect before; showing what puffins are managing to find to feed their chicks around our coastline. The next stage of the project is to look more closely at the diet of puffins compared to their breeding success to pin down what part diet plays in the decline of some puffins.”

 From May to August, 602 people joined the Puffarazzi, gathering 1402 photos of puffins taking food to their chicks. Pictures came from almost 40 colonies around the UK, including those on the Farne Islands, Skomer and the Isle of May. The project is supported by Heritage Lottery Fund Scotland thanks to money raised by National Lottery players. To see more of the pictures and to learn about the RSPB’s Project Puffin, visit www.rspb.org.uk/projectpuffin

Puffin, Farne Islands –  Geoff Cooper

Urban birding in Benidorm (and Calpe)

Another week, another adventure, this time to the tourist hotspot and renowned centre of debauchery that is Benidorm. A location I first visited on a family getaway two years ago that, much to my surprise, I found to be a rather fantastic spot for some urban wildlife watching. Well, fast forward a couple of years and this past week, once again, I found myself pacing the cities sunny outskirts, hectic streets and forgotten areas in search of some of the party destinations less conspicuous inhabitants. Between festival activities, that is – this was not a birding holiday per say.

Staying in the Belroy Hotel, my first encounter came on our first day when, at dusk, the characteristic call of wagtails was heard from our balcony. Scanning the adjacent rooftops, it soon became apparent that the opposing hotel was favoured by the local White Wagtails as a roost site; with upwards of 100 birds arriving in loose flocks during the proceeding hour. A spectacle which, much to my delight, repeated each and every night during our stay.

Early morning watches from the comfort of the balcony saw the wagtails long gone – the monochrome ones rising far earlier that I – though that same rooftop later yielded Spotless Staring, Black Redstart and my first Blue Rock Thrush of the trip – a rather pristine male. Not to mention the many Crag Martins elegantly traversing the skies at eye-level with my makeshift viewpoint, accompanied on occasion by the odd Pallid Swift.

Venturing out into the streets before the inevitable rise of my fellow Britons proved worthwhile; the roadside palms and plain trees chiming with the merry twittering of Serin and Goldfinch and, of course, the familiar chirrup of the cities many House Sparrows. It was the larger gardens and scant parks that yielded the greatest reward, however, with one particular visit to a nearby skatepark producing 13 Sardinian Warbler (the first of many seen throughout the trip), Long-tailed Tit, Firecrest and, best of all, Crested Tit. The experience here amplified by a hovering Kestrel and a handful of Little Egrets passing overhead at first light.

Perhaps the best birding of the trip was had amid the more luxurious villas located along the cities boundary with Serra Gelada National Park to the west. Here, the cherry on top of an outing on the second day came in the form of a stunning, and very confiding, male Black Wheatear; though a surprise Short-eared Owl came a close second. Indeed, I had no idea this species could be seen here, and seeing one quartering above Mediterranean coastal shrubbery was a far cry from the windswept moors of Northern England or the Scottish Highlands. Similarly, a covey of five Red-legged Partridge here was also nice to see – a familiar species in the UK, yes, but one I had not yet seen in their natural environment.

Red-Legged Partridge – Benidorm

The fringes of Serra Gelada were the focus of much of my birding exploits during the week: with two more Black Wheatear seen during my last visit, alongside a trip-tick Dartford Warbler, two Raven and a further four Blue Rock Thrush. Not to mention countless more Black Redstart, Sardinian Warbler, Crag Marten and Firecrest and a few more familiar additions to the weeks tally: Meadow Pipit, Greenfinch, Chiffchaff, Linnet and Robin. A flyover large raptor here, far too distant to properly scrutinise, providing a tantalising hint of things to come upon a brief outing on the bus to nearby Calpe.

Having heard much of Calpe before our trip, it was only fitting that myself and Matt set some time aside for a proper outing before we were forced to head home. We did this on the third day; arriving at the inner-city Salt Lake early in the morning and immediately finding ourselves greeted by 47 Greater Flamingos feeding contently by the roadside. A first for me, having never before seen this species in the wild, and a queer sight to behold, in truth. Flamingos with a backdrop of high-rise accommodation and passing traffic, not something I had thought to see anytime soon. Also here, a number of Shelduck, Cattle Egret and Moorhen provided new additions to the growing trip list and a passing birder was kind enough to draw our attention to an overhead Booted Eagle – another lifer. What a bird!

Greater Flamingo – Calpe

The real highlight of our stay at Calpe, however, came in the form of a lone gull sitting alone towards the Northern shore – far removed from the squabbling hoards of Yellow-legged and Black-headed Gulls amassed in the interior of the lake. Drawing closer, the identity of the pristine-looking bird soon became clear: Auduoin’s Gull – perhaps my most hoped for target of the trip and, by all accounts, a splendid bird to behold. The gull was enjoyed until our busy schedule forced us to depart for a whistle-stop tour of the Pobla de Ifac, where another male Blue Rock Thrush was the highlight of a decent cast of more familiar species. Including the ONLY Great Tit seen throughout the entire trip.

Audouin’s Gull – Calpe

Back in Benidorm, our final ventures of the week saw us add Iberian Green Woodpecker to the trip-list; while a single Crested Lark was unearthed on a local building site. Taking a much more touristy trip to Benidorm Island, it was similarly great to immerse ourselves in the resident Yellow-legged Gull colony; while the short boat voyage to our destination provided sightings of Shag, Greater Cormorant and Sandwich Tern.

A brief mention should be given to Benidorms non-avian inhabitants that also amused throughout the week. With butterfly sightings including Swallowtail, Clouded Yellow, Painted Lady, Red Admiral, Wall, Long-tailed Blue and Lang’s Short-tailed Blue, there was plenty to look at on this front. A notable bonus coming in the form of my first ever Silver-striped Hawkmoth (pictured below) found hiding in the shade cast by a local supermarket.

Silver-striped Hawkmoth – Benidorm

Lang’s Short-tailed Blue – Benidorm

Greater Flamingos against an urban skyline

Enjoying this Autumn’s must see spectacle

Unless you have been living under a rock, or are simply disinterested in this sort of thing, you will surely have heard by now that this Autumn has seen an unprecedented number of Hawfinch arriving in the UK. Indeed, at present, Britain appears full to bursting with these usually scarce, cherry-stone splitting finches – the invasion marked by uncharacteristically high counts of migrating birds at coastal watchpoints and the presence of Hawfinches at numerous locations well outside of their traditional range.

After nearly a fortnight of enviously glancing over celebratory tweets and jubilant Facebook posts and following years of missed opportunities, yesterday I found myself presented with an opportunity to finally get to grips with my first Hawfinch on British soil. An opportunity that I quickly seized, enjoying a sensational Autumn day in the wilds of Northumberland.

Making the one-mile walk from Morpeth to Mitford, all the ingredients for a perfect Autumnal day were seen in abundance. Crisped leaves of a hundred hues tumbling elegantly downwards from the denuded canopy, fieldfares passing overhead in rowdy, cackling flocks and the occasional seep of a passing Redwing making for a most enjoyable morning. Indeed, during the short walk to the intended site – a tranquil area of mixed woodland near Mitford – the local wildlife performed admirably. Minutes into the journey a Marsh tit sneezed from the cover of a roadside thicket while, by the river, a Kingfisher fished for ten minutes or so in plain view, before darting upstream and out of sight of its enthralled admirers. A sight which, coupled with sightings of Siskin, Grey Wagtail, Jay and Dipper, left me feeling altogether optimistic.

Arriving on site and after issuing the usual pleasantries to the assembled bird folk, I soon set about scanning the tops of the golden Hornbeams the finches had apparently been favouring. Nothing, no sign at all – my attention soon turning to the other species going about their business nearby. Behind me, in the wood, a Jay wailed from the upper echelons of a naked Oak and the machine-gun rattle of a Mistle Thrush was enjoyed briefly. With other points of interest including a number of showy Goldcrest, a few Bullfinch and a second flock of Fieldfare heading West with haste. Lovely, each and all, but still, no Hawfinches in sight; thus I decided to break off from the crowd and wander – I have always disliked the standing in one place approach to birding.

Rounding a corner into a nearby paddock, my attention was immediately drawn to a dumpy bird hopping about in the shade of a Hawthorn. The fearsome, preposterously large bill of the individual leading to an inevitable conclusion: Hawfinch. Opting to alert the other birders on site to its presence and pulling my focus begrudgingly from the bird itself, it was soon lost to sight. At least until emerging a few minutes later in the branches of one of the aforementioned Hornbeams – enormous bill and piercing stare accentuated in the jaded Autumn sun. From here, the bird showed wonderfully: sitting stone-still on its chosen branch as the amassed crowd scoped, photographed and admired to their heart’s content. Only moving from its favoured spot when a Grey Heron, of all things, passed overhead – enveloping the finch in shade and surely causing a slight bit of alarm.

This encounter, the first of its kind for me, personally, was an altogether marvellous one. An encounter which brought back memories of admiring the species on TV – watching the outlandish finches as they cracked beech masts and wondering whether I would one day, be lucky enough to see one. To date, that possibility had seemed a long-shot, given the species virtual extinction as a breeding species in my native Northumberland and the difficulty associated with getting to the sites at which they still thrive further afield. Clearly, patience does pay off; though it would be difficult not to see one this Autumn given their prominence in the countryside. I hope that readers of this blog are equally lucky in their endeavours.

The photograph in the header was borrowed from Pixabay to highlight the theme of this post. I fear my phone-scoped efforts (shown below) would not have had the same effect…

Hawfinch – Mitford

When did you last see a hedgehog?

The once familiar hedgehog has declined dramatically over the past few decades, and surprisingly for such a well-loved creature, very little is known about why the hedgehog is in crisis.  This makes it difficult to target conservation efforts to where they will be most effective.  It is presumed that road accidents, and the loss of suitable, well-connected habitat might be important, yet in some areas, the hedgehog still seems to be thriving.  It is not known whether this is because they are being given supplementary food in people’s gardens.

Given the above information, the Mammal Society are appealing for members of the public to help with our Big Hedgehog Watch Project.  They want to know how long it is since people last saw a hedgehog; whether any were spotted in their garden or neighbourhood last year; and whether people feed their prickly visitors.  Last year, almost 4,000 people responded in just 4 weeks.  The survey revealed that:

  • 87% of people that reported sightings saw them in their garden;
  • Almost 70% of the people that saw hedgehogs in their gardens fed them
  • Almost 70% of the people that fed them saw the hedgehogs more than five times
It is hoped that even more people will help this year to help track the changes in hedgehog populations.

The survey will be open until 1st December 2017.

Fiona Mathews, Chair of the Mammal Society and Professor of Environmental Biology at the University of Sussex says “Hedgehogs sadly, are experiencing an unprecedented decline throughout the UK and we are still not sure of the cause. We are therefore appealing for people to fill in this survey and let us know of their last hedgehog sighting, dead or alive.  Even if it more than a year since you saw one, please tell us because it helps us to identify where hedgehogs are disappearing”.

The online survey is available on the Mammal Society website and takes just a few minutes to complete. All completed surveys will go towards the conservation of one of our most loved species. The public can also help hedgehogs by contributing to the Mammal Society’s hedgehog appeal. To donate or to fill in the survey, visit www.mammal.org.uk/science-research/surveys

For further information and imagery please contact:
Rina Quinlan
Information Officer
Mammal Society
info@themammalsociety.org
02380 010981

Talking to Shooters, by Graham Appleton

Some of my bird watching friends don’t understand why I write for Shooting Times. I explain that, although there is a difference of views on some issues, the bird watching and shooting communities have two key things in common – they value the countryside and the diversity of life it contains. Isn’t it the people who think that fields and woodland are only there to be built upon, fracked under and driven through that birdwatchers should be most concerned about?

The fact that I write for Shooting Times is an accident. When I was the Director of Communications of the British Trust for Ornithology I wrote two articles to promote Bird Atlas 2007-11. After I took early retirement at the end of 2013, I asked the editor if he would like anymore. He asked me to suggest some topics and I have written a monthly article ever since. I don’t often write about species that are on the quarry list but I always try to set my articles in the environments that are managed by wildfowlers, gamekeepers and estate owners. A piece on Tawny Owls was published this month and I am working on an article on the buntings that might be seen in-game cover crops for December.

I enjoy writing about ornithology and Shooting Times provides a knowledgeable and receptive audience. I am assured that gamekeepers, shooters and land-owners want to understand more about bird surveys (undertaken by strange birdwatchers who ask for access to land), bird trends (the winners and losers in the countryside), the effects of introduced species (from muntjac to Canada geese) and some of the quirky things that birds do. The articles can also act as a shop-window for science that makes a difference – whether that be Reading University research into the consequences of providing winter food for Red Kites or how RSPB, SNH and Edinburgh University got together to suggest ways to use agricultural subsidies that can help Corn Buntings.

The UK is small and heavily-populated. There’s no true wilderness. There is not space for single-usage. I want my garden to produce vegetables, lighten my mood and attract wildlife. The farmers around us have similarly mixed motivations, making most of their money from growing crops, receiving credit from the government for leaving space for birds and beetles, and supplementing their income (and the larder) with some Pheasant shooting. I don’t shoot but I enjoy seeing the Buzzards that nest in their woodland, the finches and buntings that explode from their game-cover strips and the Snipe in the rough field next to the river. When we undertake the Breeding Bird Survey on our Norfolk square, all the good birds, such as the Willow Warblers, Yellowhammers and Reed Buntings, are associated with pheasant release areas, game cover crops, thick hedges and the wet field that contains a pond that attracts winter duck and Snipe.

As time has gone on, I have had to ‘explain my actions’ to friends who wanted to try to understand why I am working with ‘the enemy’. So, why do I do it? This is a paid activity but it does not feel any different to be writing for Shooting Times than it does when I write for BBC Wildlife. If Shooting Times was ever to condone illegal activity – by supporting gamekeepers who persecute birds of prey, for instance, then I would stop. They do the opposite – criticising the people who not only break the law but also bring shooting into disrepute.

If you like this post, please consider casting a vote for me in the 2018 ‘Wildlife Blogger of the Year’ competition. You can read my entry, and cast a vote for number 13, here >> http://www.terra-incognita.travel/2018/a-bittersweet-return

In the same way that many birdwatchers are suspicious of shooters and gamekeepers, so gamekeepers are worried when they see birdwatchers on their patches. Some years ago, we were approached by a gamekeeper when we were cutting off the corner between a permissive path and a public footpath.  Had we been walking a dog, I don’t think he would have said anything – he almost told us as much. He keyed in on the binoculars and was concerned that we might be about to tamper with his legally-set crow trap. I wonder how other birdwatchers, who don’t understand what is and is not legal, would have reacted to the decoy Magpie that he was transporting in the back of his truck?

It is so easy to see things in black-and-white, especially on social media but, when you actually look at what is going on in the countryside, you’ll see that practical considerations blur preconceived divisions between birdwatching and shooting. For instance, control measures are used to protect grouse on the moors and nesting waders on nature reserves, with 412 foxes being shot on RSPB reserves in 2014/15. See this link to a blog about this from Martin Harper of RSPB.  Gamekeepers have played an important part in the recovery of the Stone Curlew, many of which nest on arable land that is also used for shooting, and there is an increasing acceptance that, if we are to save Curlews in the uplands, then gamekeepers are best placed to control predators. Foxes may not be the only – or even main – reason for decades of Curlew losses but numbers are not going to recover without intervention. I have written a WaderTales blog about Curlew losses. 

Conservation is best served when birdwatchers and the shooting community work together – which is already happening at local levels throughout the country. The inflammatory statements on social media, from people who seem to ignore this, threaten this cooperation and species recovery plans. I hope that my articles in Shooting Times, which often focus on the work of RSPB, BTO, WWT and GWCT are helping to mend some fences and counterbalance some of the negativity on Twitter and elsewhere. There are discussions to be had – about the impact of shooting on our dwindling population of breeding Woodcock, for instance – but shouting at each other is unlikely to help. In this particular case, have a look at how GWCT are using science to ask questions about the length of the shooting season and even whether the species should continue to be shot. There’s a WaderTales blog about this issue.

Conservation starts with conversation and the birdwatching and shooting communities have a lot that they can usefully talk about. Anyone who makes derogatory comments that imply that a person who carries a gun just has to be evil is alienating a group of people who care about what is happening to the countryside. Many of these gamekeepers, land-owners and sportsmen are people that we, as birdwatchers, can work with and even influence. I’m just trying to keep the conversation going.

You can follow Graham on Twitter @grahamfappleton and read his WaderTales blogs at wadertales.wordpress.com

If you enjoyed this guest post, please consider taking 30-seconds of your time to vote for Common By Nature in the ‘Green and Eco’ and ‘Social Influencer’ categories of the UK Blog Awards 2018. This can be done easily by following this link. I would really appreciate it!