Adventives and Invaders at Walker Riverside

A short round-up of a glorious Saturday morning spent botanising one of my favourite local sites.

It is no secret that I am a big fan of the messy, post-industrial yet incredibly diverse riverside park at Walker. Visiting for a few years now, I’ve already amassed a fairly respectable plant list for the site yet somehow, each visit continues to turn up something new. Things were no different on a visit this weekend with local botanist, Ho-Yin Wong.

Heading first for the marina at St. Peter’s Basin and it wasn’t long before colossal fleabane caught my eye growing in no-mans-land by the side of the road. Up here, Canadian Fleabane (Erigeron canadensis) tends to be the common species, so much so that I often walk past them without checking. That’ll teach me, this one turned out to be Gurnsey Fleabane (Erigeron sumatrensis) identified by its hairy phyllaries.

Reaching the basin itself, it was pleasing to see that the various areas of pavement and wasteground here had not been ‘tidied’ as so many places around here often are. Lots more Guernsey Fleabane was found, alongside two more invaders: Russian Vine (Fallopia baldschuanica) and Narrow-leaved Ragwort (Senecio inaequidens).

Rummaging around further, Canadian Fleabane (with glabrous phillaries) was eventually observed, alongside Oxford Ragwort (Senecio squalidus) with its conspicuous black bracts. As for the highlight among the native species, it was nice to catch Small-flowered Crane’s-bill (Geranium pusillum) still in bloom.

Making our way down to the track that runs along the North bank of the Tyne, the usual riverside flora remained conspicuous. Here, Black Horehound (Balotta nigra) remained in flower and several self-sown Italian Alder (Alnus cordata) were seen. Much more interesting, however, were two new additions to the ‘Walker list’ in Alexanders (Smyrnium olusatrum) and better still, White-stemmed Bramble (Rubus cockburnianus). The latter a Chinese endemic long known from the riverside here yet annoyingly, one which I have struggled to find, until now.

Moving on to the site of the old tar works and a real hotchpotch of interesting plants appeared in quick succession. Clustered Bellflower (Campanula glomerata) remained in bloom, as did Wild Thyme (Thymus drucei), though sadly, the same could not be said for the Sainfoin (Onobrychis viciifolia) which grows here too. The Nasturtiums (Tropaeolum majus) dumped on site last summer also appear to be thriving, much to my surprise, and it was interesting to note Grey Alder (Alnus incana). Slightly further on we also encountered Hoary Ragwort (Jacobaea erucifolia).

Back down by the riverside and it was exciting to record both Hoary Mustard (Hirschfeldia incana) and Flattened Meadow Grass (Poa compressa) – both scarce species locally. As a matter of fact, it was thanks to the aforementioned grass that we chanced upon what would turn out to be the highlight of the day – a great clump of Blue Fleabane (Erigeron acris). More on that one in an upcoming post.

Soon it was head off, though not before a quick excursion along the wooded cycleway further up the bank. Here, Chinese Bramble (Rubus tricolor) was a bit of a curiosity as was what I think is Box-leaved Honeysuckle (Lonicera pileata). Having watched it with frustration for two years now, I was also happy to make some headway with the ‘unusual’ spurge that grows here. Looking closer, it appears this might be Balkan Spurge (Euphorbia oblongata), identification made easier by the presence of fruit on this occasion.

A Tale of Two Plant Hunts

The Botanical Society of Britain and Ireland’s (BSBI) New Year Plant Hunt is an annual event in which botanists, experts and amateurs alike, head out to record the plant species bucking the time-honoured trend and blooming in the depths of winter. Now in its ninth year, the four-day survey is both great fun and an important means by which to assess how changing weather patterns are altering the behaviour of our wildflowers. If you would like to take part, tomorrow is your last chance, at least until 2021.

Having enjoyed my attempt in 2019, I was keen to once again take part in the NYPH this year. What I had not anticipated, however, was that I would end up leading a group walk as part of a friendly competition here in the North-East between botanically-minded members of the Natural History Society of Northumbria. A challenge that would see an expert group, led by a former BSBI President, no less, traversing the picturesque dune slacks of Lindisfarne; while a slightly less practised group, led by myself, would take on the parks, roadsides, and front weed-strewn front gardens of Newcastle.

Setting out on New Years Day, it immediately became apparent that non-native species would form a cornerstone of our collective, botanical haul. Indeed, the streets of Heaton, my own district of Newcastle, revealed a kaleidoscopic mix of aliens, each having breached the confines of their garden prisons long ago. Red Valarian, tall and lusciously pink, bright yellow Oxford Ragwort and the star-shaped blue heads of Trailing Bellflower conspicuous against the greys and browns of concrete and brick. Looking closer, other colonists became apparent also: Canadian and Mexican Fleabane, Yellow Corydalis and Snapdragon. Later in the walk, Pru, a member of our group, also pointed out a new species for me, Mock Strawberry, a yellow flowering native of South Asia. Newcastle, it seems, like a great many of our cities represents somewhat of a botanical United Nations, boasting species from almost all corners of the globe.

Of course, native species also featured as part of our foray. Mainly the tenacious ‘weeds’ that are widely known to persevere throughout the winter months: Shepard’s Purse, Groundsel, Hogweed, Feverfew and the omnipresent Annual Meadow Grass. That said, it was surprising to find the delicate white blooms of Wild Strawberry clinging on in the relative shelter of Jesmond Dene, a local woodland, and the minute, octopus-like female flowers of Hazel greatly brightened up our morning.

All in all, our merry band of urban plant-hunters finished on an unseasonally high total of 40 species. As did the team roving on Lindisfarne, it turns out. With a great day had by all, it would be rude to scoff at an amicable draw.

Mock Strawberry, Wild Strawberry, Hazel and Feverfew


Fast forward to Thursday and keen to head out with my newly acquired hand lens and Collin’s guide to British flora, and a jaunt to the coast beckoned. What transpired was a lovely (and uncharacteristically sunny) three hours at Tynemouth, ultimately culminating in a grand total of 43 flowering plants. The highlight of which had to be Alexanders in bloom – a regionally scarce species abundant at this site due, I am led to believe, to the culinary taste of the monks who once inhabited the long-abandoned Tynemouth Priority.

Elsewhere, I chanced upon two new species for me: Seaside Daisy and Buck’s-horn Plantain. The former, a native of California persevering along a small stretch of stonework near the priory, and the second, a pretty cool native species whose leaves (at least in my mind) resemble more the serrated bill of a Sawfish, as opposed to the horns of a buck. I am unsure how I have overlooked this plant until now – it’s pretty distinct.

Left to right: Alexanders, Seaside Daisy & Buck’s-horn Plaintain

All in all, this year’s New Year Plant Hunt provided a great opportunity to get out and about and appreciate the diversity of local flora. While also providing an opportunity to learn from and socialise with a number of local botanists far more knowledgeable than I. A win-win!

If you would like to cast your peepers over the results of this year’s hunt or, like me, keep a watchful eye on what others have seen in your area, you can check out the BSBI results page here: https://nyph.bsbi.org/results.php

An hour in the company of aliens

Britain’s cities have served as the epicentre for countless invasions over the years. Landing sites, if you would, where species from far-flung destinations – East Asia, North America and closer to home, in Europe – gain first a toe-hold before beginning their creeping advance across the land. Here, in the city, the wheels of countless vehicles transport seeds, tenacious pioneers breach the walls of their manicured garden cells and unwitting homeowners provide an endless supply of food, sustaining some feral beings on their quest towards colonisation.

Yesterday, I decided to pause and look. To take a moment to seek out the non-native species with whom I share my street  (a small area of no more than 300m). I must confess, I was quite surprised – many, it seems, find the urban realm much to their liking.

Rising triumphantly between the pavement slabs that line the street adjacent to the fractured glass of the bus stop from which I make my daily commutes, the obnoxious yellow blooms of the day’s first invader add an unseasonal touch of colour at a time when little if anything, should flower. Oxford Ragwort, a native to the lava fields of Sicily, so named for the botanical gardens where the plant was first grown in the 1700s, clearly at home in the cracks and crevices provided by splitting concrete and crumbling wall.

Oxford Ragwort and Red Valerian growing side by side

So prolific is the ragwort here that it is easily the most frequently encountered ‘wildflower’ on the street, rivalled only by the less widespread yet thriving swaths of Red Valerian – another Mediterranean immigrant – which likewise finds the degrading stonework here to its liking. Both do well here, despite an annual dose of herbicide courtesy of the local council.

The invading botanicals here appear to have organised themselves quite well into some semblance of a natural, tiered community. While ragwort and valerian dominate at ground level, Buddleia prevails at altitude: standing tall in neglected gardens, atop walls, on rooftops and even chimney stacks. The dominant species in the sparse canopy of the street which, brick-breaking tendencies aside, I actually find myself gazing upon fondly. This invader, perhaps more so than the others, provides a boon to insects [and those who enjoy them] throughout the summer months.

While I see Buddleia everywhere I look on my street, some new arrivals are just beginning to gain a toehold. Along the railway lines some 25m from my front door, patches of much-maligned Japanese Knotweed have now appeared. In cracks and crannies on the sunnier side of the street, Trailing Bellflower – a native to the Alps – has begun to creep gradually from garden to garden. Each plant set to paint the stonework here a pleasant blue later in the year. There are others too: a passing glance at the exposed soil at the base of nearby lampost revealing a small, nondescript holly-shaped plant. Not our native Holly at all, in fact, but Oregon Grape – a spiny import from Western North America where, in its natural environment, it forms a dense understory in the shade of towering Douglas Firs. It will find no fir trees here – not that it will be deterred.

Heading to the local park, keen to seek out something, anything, which truly belongs, a piercing shriek and a series of gleeful whistles herald the arrival of another uninvited guest. Sure enough, moments later, a lurid green parakeet emerges atop a budding sycamore. A bird hailing from East Asia, perched in a tree of Eastern European origin looking out across a street laden with arrivals of North America, Italy and China… all in one tiny corner of Britain.

Say what you will about invasive species, they do, in my opinion, deserve some degree of respect for carving out a home in what are often entirely unnatural settings. Some are damaging, some are relatively harmless, but all are interesting.

The North-West Rare Plant Initiative, a guest blog by Joshua Styles

The concept of island biogeography was first laid out by MacArther & Wilson (1967) in a book entitled ‘The Theory of Island Biogeography’. The concept was relatively simple in its key principles; that ‘islands’ that are small are capable of supporting fewer species than larger ‘islands’, and that the further away these ‘islands’ are from each other, then the less likely it is that a species is able to re-colonise once it becomes extinct.

Since the industrial revolution and Second World War, semi-natural habitats including our flower-rich meadows, heathlands, mosslands and woodlands have been lost, predominantly due to agriculture and forestry. This has left many of our plants in a rather awful predicament; huge expanses of our once flower-rich habitats have been lost, and remaining flower-rich places are in generally very isolated and small pockets of our countryside. In this case, the concept of island biogeography could be said to apply; isolated and small floristically-rich islands are both prone to extinction events, and things that are extinct, are unlikely to re-colonise. The sheer level of habitat loss that has occurred over the past century, and rate at which our flower-rich habitats are still being lost, has meant that one in three wildflowers in Britain are under threat of extinction. Additionally, per county, on average one-two species goes extinct every year in England!

Growing up as a child, one of the most infuriating memories I had each year, was to look at my county’s rare plant register which gives information on the very rarest plants in the county. Almost every year there were new extinctions; it has always been a devastating prospect that the rare, and even some of the more common plant species, could be utterly gone from the region when I am an old man…given the often immense distances other sites are where the species is present, it often will not re-colonise and will be extinct for good.

I now have over 15 years botanical cultivation and recording experience, and this same devastating prospect was the rationale for the beginnings of an initiative for my region (north-west England), the North-West Rare Plant Initiative; to put back & reinforce species on suitable sites that are on the very cusp of extinction in the region.

The North-West Rare Plant Initiative (NWRPI): aims & objectives

The NWRPI is an initiative that I formalised in August 2017 operating across Cheshire, Greater Manchester, Merseyside, Lancashire and South Cumbria. There are just under

50 target species for my initiative for which I want to reintroduce and reinforce throughout the region; this isn’t a quick process and involves lots of steps including suitability assessment, consideration of biosecurity concerns, feasibility, etc. (to view an overview of the reintroduction protocol I follow, see www.nwrpi.weebly.com). Additional to my aims involving reintroducing and reinforcing species, the NWRPI aims also to work with landowners of sites with these rare species, to incorporate more favourable management practices. It also aims to establish a national network of propagators for target species to assist in cultivation effort and to act as back-up in the very worst scenarios.

Priority Species

Although extinctions of plants at a regional level doesn’t necessarily equate to extinction at a national level, it is often a precursor to such; thus, conservation at a regional level is of paramount importance, in addition to looking at species in a national context. As well as conserving rare plants because we need to maintain a level of biodiversity, plants offer us a lot…They are the fundamental basis of all life on earth; they give us food, building materials, medicine and are shown to improve aspects of our mental health. Aside from these qualities and products plants offer, they’re just downright AMAZING…

An example of one of the species I am cultivating is Oblong-Leaved Sundew (Drosera intermedia). It is one of the more spectacular things I grow and is a carnivorous plant in the family Droseraceae. It grows on very wet, acid, nutrient-deficient peat bogs and wet heaths throughout Britain and Ireland & has fantastic tentacle-like structures with terminal mucus-producing glands. Once small invertebrates land on these mucus-covered tentacles, the plant is able to digest the organism and absorb the nitrogen content which is otherwise unavailable in the nutrient deficient peat bogs. Oblong-Leaved Sundew has unfortunately declined substantially in the region due to these peat bogs being formerly drained for forestry and excavated for peat; it now exists in often very isolated pockets of wet heath and peat bog that remain across the North-West region.

Olong-Leaved Sundew courtesy of Steven Barlow.

Into the not-so-distant future!

Within the next year of my initiative, a lot of prospective reintroductions are planned many thanks to the assistance provided by funding from individual donors and Chester Zoo. An example of one up-and-coming introduction would be the introduction of Sheep’s-Bit (Jasione montana) onto Freshfield Dune Heath, Sefton Coast. This fantastic place is a Site of Special Scientific Interest and is currently under the management of Lancashire Wildlife Trust, dominated by expanses of acid heathland and grassland. Sheep’s Bit is a species doing rather poorly in the region given its poor ability to disperse and loss of heathland and acid grassland; so bad in fact, that in 2017, the entire S. Lancashire population was down to two individual plants. Following 2017 sampling of seed from Cheshire and North Wales and permission granted by the trust, I now have a substantial number of plants ready for introduction onto Freshfield Dune Heath, close to where it had recently disappeared from.

On a final note, it should be noted that all species introductions are well justified by a stringent protocol and with the permission of relevant landowners and statutory bodies. It is important not to take any rare plant or plant things onto nature reserves. All sampling and introductions are done in strict accordance with IUCN guidelines and the BSBI code of conduct.