The Phantom Tweekers

The Phantom Tweekers

Over the years the numbers of primroses and their brethren have built up in our garden to give quite a show. Fifty years ago there were just a few wild one. We added cowslips grown from seed sent by a friend from Hertfordshire. There they grew on chalk, but here they seem to thrive in our acid soil. Then true Oxlips were added, the occasional blowsy Polyanthus, and little magenta  Primula ‘Wanda’. They are a promiscuous lot and we have steadily got a multitude of hybrids of all colours and forms.

                As they come to the peak of their display in the middle of March, and I think we have got away with it unscathed, the Phantom Tweekers begin, nipping off an occasional flower and discarding it beside the plant. Over the next couple of weeks, more and more plants are stripped of their flowers. I never see the culprit. Funnily enough, the multi-headed ones are less interfered-with.

                I think it’s birds rather than mice or voles as those growing in the fruit cage, which is proof against birds but not mice, are never touched.

Before the Tweekers

PS to The Spring Walk.  Those of you living in the real world may have noticed that the walk was in contravention of the instructions only to walk from home, and Luckett is a two mile drive from home. In fact the walk described was on 29^th March LAST YEAR. 

Tweeked!

FOLDED ROCKS and HONEYCOMB WORMS

Although we've visited  Bude many times, we had never walked out beyond the breakwater until  recently. The shore to the west of the bay at Bude, where the canal and the river Neet run across the sand to the sea is well worth a visit at very low tide. First you pass an amazing length of rock which has been folded up into the shape of an inverted U , an anticline. 

The rocks here are a hugely thick deposit of sedimentary sandstone and mudstone layers which is known as the famous Bude Formation.  This dates from the Carboniferous period and is tremendously folded and contorted.

 

The anticline.

 HONEYCOMB WORMS

Further down across the rocks we were astonished to find great pillowy encrustations of the sand-coloured tubes of the Honeycomb Worm, Sabellaria aereolata in sheltered gullies between the reefs of rocks running out to sea. This marine worm builds its tubes out of sand and feeds on tiny suspended creatures in the water, needing a fairly exposed shore with sand to build their tubes with and rock to anchor them to. 

Honeycomb Worm colonies on rocky reef at low water.

Native to the Mediterranean, here  in the UK they are near the northernmost part of their range, but can be found in places down west and further up on the North Cornwall coast and I believe in places on the south Wales coast.

Close-up of colony.

Damaged colony showing tubes within it.

Spring Walk

A Spring Walk from Luckett to Horsebridge

Sunny weather at last, and too good to be in. We skirted the side of  the Great Meadow green with new grass being enjoyed by the ewes. Young lambs frolicking in little groups, but split up when we drew too close, to rush back to their mums for a reassuring  little suckle.

       The warm sun in the shelter of the hedge was bringing out a few butterflies. A sulphur-yellow Brimstone patrolled, a Peacock basked sleepily on the stones of the hedge-face and a pair of Small Tortoiseshells repeatedly spiralled upwards in display flight, then came down to rest on the nettles.

Basking Peacock

       Looking over the gate into a field beyond, we surprised a big dog Fox which paused as it spotted us, and stood motionless, trailing its brush low, before turning and jumping effortlessly up into the hedge bank and disappeared.

       The stream running out of the marshy area beyond the Great Meadow was rushing under the little granite footbridge among a spread of fresh green spears of flag iris leaves before swirling and frothing down to the Tamar.

        The sound of a Great-spotted Woodpecker drumming echoed across the valley, while a pair of Nuthatches called with clear fluting notes as they chased each other in the stag-headed old oak by the muddy gateway. A couple of years ago there was a nest of Hornets in the stone-faced bank just beyond the little iron gate, but they haven’t reappeared since. A pair of Ravens  honked as they flew high across the valley.

        The track from the house and restored barns at Lower Hampt out to the road has a lovely display of spring flowers  --  Primroses and Lesser Celandines, Wood Anemones, Stitchwort and Barren Strawberry, Violets and Ground Ivy were all attracting hoverflies and other insects.

Greater Stitchwort

Lesser Celandine

Wood Anemone

Wild Violet

       A Bee Fly with dark-edged wings held stiffly outwards, furry ginger body and long proboscis sought nectar from a primrose. A lumbering Bloody-nosed Beetle was heading for a lush clump of Hedge Bedstraw, intent on finding a mate or to lay its eggs on this, its foodplant. Pick this beetle up and it will ooze reddish liquid from its mouth, a foul-tasting deterrent to any would-be predator. This trick gives it its name.

Dark-bordered Bee Fly

Bloody-nosed Beetle

       A Chiffchaff called, repeating its two notes over and over from the edge of the wood and a tiny Goldcrest fluttered briefly in the branches above. It flaunted its bright orange crest as it turned, before disappearing behind a dense clump of ivy.

 

      Leaning over the parapet of the old stone Horsebridge, we could see the river was still full; a Dipper flew low and direct, heading upstream  and a pair of Mallard, quacking in protest, flew up from the river’s edge. We were hoping to see a few Sand Martins who nest in the holes below the parapet, but there were none yet, nor an early Swallow.

Introduction and Rookeries

Introducing me.....

Having for some years written a monthly Nature Notes piece for our local newsletter which is likely to close, I was at a loss. The requirement to get out and about in order to have something fresh to write about has been a valuable stimulus. In my advancing years with reduced mobility and vitality I needed the catalyst so I’ve decided to produce a blog to keep me going.

We moved to East Cornwall over 50 years ago, and inevitably have noticed changes in the countryside and wildlife around here and in the wider SW; some losses, some gains.

Situated halfway between the south and north coasts of Cornwall, and in fairly rural countryside midway between the Tamar and Lyhner rivers we are in a good position to take off in any direction, from sheltered mossy sunken lanes to dramatic rocky coast.

Although we’ve got quite a big garden, about twenty years ago we were persuaded, I’m not sure why, to take on a small allotment near another village in the parish. It’s about two miles away, down in the Tamar valley, a good contrast with our garden which is perched nearly 600 feet up on the NW side of Kit Hill, a local landmark.

The situation of the allotment field is peaceful and it’s a pleasure to lean on the fork and gaze at the view, perhaps to listen on a wild and windy day to a Mistle Thrush in the top of an oak, singing lustily. He’s well-named Storm Cock.

View from the allotment: Tamar valley on a frosty morning

The wet and windy life of a rookery.

As a kid I grew up with the constant background of cawing rooks in a huge rookery in tall elms at the bottom of our road in what was then rural Hertfordshire, so now I’m taking a special interest in one down the lane here.

About six years ago a few rooks established a rookery ‘splinter group’ about half a mile from a bigger one down in the village. Over the years we have watched it develop from a couple of nests to, last year, 22. Over winter about 9 ragged remains hung on until the February storms of Chiara and Dennis when they were all blown out and demolished. We were afraid the birds would desert but no! During the past couple of weeks they have been back in strength and so far from a tentative five clusters of twigs there are now fifteen robust nests and plenty of comings and goings.