Ancient Woodland Indicators in Northumberland

Ancient woodland indicator species are plants that take a long time to colonise new areas. Because they prefer the stable, undisturbed conditions of long-established woods, they can help us tell whether a woodland is truly ancient.

The exact species to look for vary from county to county. Spotting just one doesn’t prove much on its own, but the more indicator species you find, the more likely it is that the woodland has been there for centuries.

Below is the current list of ancient woodland indicator species for Northumberland, which includes flowering plants, grasses, and ferns that are used locally to identify this special habitat. A separate list for County Durham can be found online (here). As a rule of thumb, finding at least 10 species gives a good chance of confirming ancient woodland. The more you find, the stronger the evidence and usually, the healthier the woodland.

At the end of the list, you’ll also see a few extra species. These aren’t on the official list, but I’ve included them because they have a strong connection with ancient woodland in this area.

Herbaceous Plants

  • Field Maple Acer campestre
  • Moschatel Adoxa moschatellina
  • Ramsons Allium ursinum
  • Wood Anemone Anemone nemorosa
  • Lords-and-ladies Arum maculatum
  • Giant Bellflower Campanula latifolia
  • Alternate-leaved Golden Saxifrage Chrysosplenium alternifolium
  • Upland Enchanter’s-nightshade Circaea x intermedia
  • Broad-leaved Helleborine Epipactis helleborine
  • Spindle Euonymus europaeus
  • Yellow Star-of-Bethlehem Gagea lutea
  • Woodruff Galium odoratum
  • Creeping Lady’s-tresses Goodyera repens
  • Bluebell Hyacinthoides non-scripta
  • Juniper Juniperus communis
  • Toothwort Lathraea squamaria
  • Common Cow-wheat Melampyrum pratense
  • Dog’s Mercury Mercurialis perennis
  • Wood Forget-me-not Myosotis sylvatica
  • Bird’s-nest Orchid Neottia nidus-avis
  • Wood-sorrel Oxalis acetosella
  • Herb-paris Paris quadrifolia
  • Goldilocks Buttercup Ranunculus auricomus
  • Downy Currant Ribes spicatum
  • Sanicle Sanicula europaea
  • Wood Stitchwort Stellaria nemorum
  • Small-leaved Lime Tilia cordata
  • Wood Speedwell Veronica montana
  • Guelder Rose Viburnum opulus
  • Wood Vetch Ervilia sylvatica

Grasses & Sedges

  • False Brome Brachypodium sylvaticum
  • Hairy-brome Bromopsis ramosa
  • Greater Tussock-sedge Carex paniculata
  • Remote Sedge Carex remota
  • Wood-sedge Carex sylvatica
  • Smooth-stalked Sedge Carex laevigata
  • Bearded Couch Elymus caninus
  • Giant Fescue Schedonorus giganteus
  • Wood Fescue Drymochloa sylvatica
  • Wood Barley Hordelymus europaeus
  • Hairy Wood-rush Luzula pilosa
  • Wood Melick Melica uniflora
  • Mountain Melick Melica nutans
  • Wood Millet Milium effusum
  • Wood Meadow-grass Poa nemoralis

Ferns & Horsetails

  • Wood Horsetail Equisetum sylvaticum
  • Oak Fern Gymnocarpium dryopteris
  • Beech Fern Phegopteris connectilis
  • Hard Shield-fern Polystichum aculeatum
  • Soft Shield-fern Polystichum setiferum

Species That Ought to be Included

  • Great Wood-rush Luzula sylvatica
  • Early-purple Orchid Orchis mascula
  • Golden-scaled Male-fern Dryopteris affinis subsp. affinis
  • Yellow Pimpernel Lysimachia nemorum
  • Barren Strawberry Potentilla sterilis
  • Water Avens Geum rivale
  • Pignut Conopodium majus
  • Bugle Ajuga reptans
  • Opposite-leaved Golden Saxifrage Chrysosplenium oppositifolium
  • Wood Crane’s-bill Geranium sylvaticum
  • Wood Club-rush Scirpus sylvaticus

Allen Banks & Briarwood Banks

It had been a few years since I last visited my favourite ancient woodland sites at Allen Banks and Briarwood Banks — my most recent visit taking place during a student field trip in 2022. I’m not entirely sure why it’s taken me so long to return, but regardless, this week I was thrilled to get back into the swing of things leading a group of keen botanists from my ‘Botanist’s Year’ course on a walk along the River Allen, taking in the sights and sounds of these remarkable reserves.

Ancient woodland is a rare thing in Northumberland, especially in a truly diverse and undisturbed state. The River Allen catchment is one of the few places where it’s still possible not only to observe many of the characteristic plants of this special habitat, but to see them in abundance — a sight sorely lacking in my local patch around Newcastle. As we set out from the National Trust car park, it was immediately clear we were in for a treat: just about everything one hopes to find in such sites was flowering merrily.

Within moments of starting our walk, ancient woodland indicators began revealing themselves at a rapid pace. The first leg of the trip took us along the drier, upper slopes of the gorge, where we were treated to glorious patches of Wood Crane’s-bill Geranium sylvaticum alongside Goldilocks Buttercup Ranunculus auricomus — two species I encounter far too infrequently for my liking. Lower down, although the bluebells and wood anemones had finished flowering, Sanicle Sanicula europaea was in full bloom, and members of the group were quick to point out some lovely patches of Yellow Pimpernel Lysimachia nemorum.

One of the other curiosities during this leg of the trip was a mature variegated Sycamore Acer pseudoplatanus which may or may not be the cultivar Simon-Louis Freres. Presumably this was planted here by the Victorian custodians of the site but either way, it made for an impressive sight.

Continuing along the riverside path, our attention briefly turned to ferns, with sightings of most of the common species one might expect in a woodland like this: Hard Fern Blechnum spicant, Hard Shield-fern Polystichum aculeatum, Lady-fern Athyrium filix-femina, and others. Great Horsetail Equisetum telmateia was also noted, and several attractive woodland grasses gave us reason to pause. The most abundant was the delicate Wood Melick Melica uniflora, but we also recorded Hairy-brome Bromopsis ramosa, Giant Fescue Schedonorus giganteus, and perhaps most exciting of all, Wood Fescue Drymochloa sylvatica — a completely new plant for me, despite having unknowingly wandered past it for years. The Tyne catchment is one of the key strongholds for this rare woodland grass.

It wasn’t long, however, before our focus returned to flowers, with plenty of Bugle Ajuga reptans in bloom and Hybrid Avens Geum x intermedium growing alongside both of its parent species in a damp depression. Bitter-vetch Lathyrus linifolius and Wood Vetch Ervilia sylvatica were also observed, and a brief pause to key out specimens rewarded us with Intermediate Lady’s-mantle Alchemilla xanthochlora.

Another curiosity spotted on this leg of the trip was the attractive shrub shown below. Clearly a honeysuckle but which one? My money is on Fly Honeysuckle Lonicera xylosteum – likely an old introduction here.

Reaching the end of Allen Banks, we soon crossed the invisible boundary into the Northumberland Wildlife Trust’s reserve at Briarwood Banks. This is a fantastic site, carefully managed for a wide range of wildlife, including Hazel Dormice which are said to lurk in the undergrowth. Before venturing further, we stopped for lunch on a stunning patch of Calaminarian grassland, brimming with Mountain Pansies Viola lutea. As you can see, these little beauties come in a delightful range of colours, and personally, I’m especially fond of the less common yellow ones! This same area also held Common Bistort Bistorta officinalis on the riverbanks.

After lunch, it was time to begin our ascent up the banks, with Mel Rockett taking the lead, drawing on his extensive volunteering experience at the site. Our main target was Bird’s-nest Orchid which we had missed on the way in, but along the way we encountered a fine selection of species not seen earlier in the day, including Early-purple Orchid Orchis mascula and Common Cow-wheat Melampyrum pratense. Only when we reached the summit (and I’m not being melodramatic — the walk is genuinely steep at this point) did we finally find our quarry…

Thanks to Mel’s expert guidance, we finally caught up with Bird’s-nest Orchid Neottia nidus-avis. Two, to be exact, growing beneath a mature Beech Fagus sylvatica in a rocky patch of earth, far removed from the ‘rich humus’ they’re said to prefer in the textbooks. A quirky little plant, it may not be as striking as some of its orchid relatives, but it’s certainly fascinating: parasitic on the roots of its host tree and lacking the chlorophyll that gives most plants their green colour. These specimens weren’t fully open yet, but a few flowers had begun to reveal themselves.

While at Briarwood, we were also lucky enough to catch up with the rather delicate fern shown below. This is Oak Fern (Gymnocarpium dryopteris), a pretty uncommon species in our region, typically found in rocky, ancient woodlands. It was such a treat to see a thriving patch of it as we made our descent down the bank.

And that, folks, is a wrap. It’s always such a pleasure to get out and about with a group of keen botanists, especially when their local insight leads to unexpected encounters. A big thank you to Mel for taking the reins at Briarwood Banks.

Half-Penny: aliens and interlopers

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edward Grierson: The Importance of Community-Owned Land

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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