SPRING IS ON ITS WAY.

 SPRING IS ON ITS WAY

Spring in our minds represents balmy days after the long dark days of winter, with bird song, flowers, early butterflies and burgeoning growth.

In fact, it is more often comes in fits and starts, making difficulties for gardeners who, encouraged by mild promises of an ‘early spring’ often have frosty setbacks. ‘Late springs’ keep us waiting through cold wet unpleasant conditions. The only certainty is that no two springs are similar except that they are usually a mix, keeping us alternately encouraged and impatient for improvement.

This year, with a year of Covid behind us and an uncertain future in which we can only hope for a gradual improvement, Tony and I have been largely restricted to the house and garden so apart from the wildlife in the garden we have been unable to compare appearances of the usual spring landmarks.

This year for the first time ever I think, we have had no frogspawn in the pond. This follows a major clear-out last autumn of wheelbarrows-full of overgrowing weed; was that anything to do with it? I have heard several other people this spring have noticed the same after clearing their ponds.

Astonishingly, I have only had the moth trap out once so far (though I might put it out tonight). I don’t think I am being particularly wimpish; the nights have been consistently unfavourable; too wet, too cold, too windy or a combination of all three. The one trapping I did, had a moderate catch of a few of the usual early species. 

Hebrew Character, named perhaps for the dark marks on the wings.

 

Yes, I DID put the moth trap out last night despite a clear chilly night, with again a moderate catch .

 Lacking our normal walking we are very out of touch with what’s flowering so yesterday we drove for 7 minutes to walk along the riverside and hedges of Luckett Great Meadow beside the Tamar; our hour’s exercise (please note, Covid police!) On the way we saw Greater Stitchwort, Common Scurvy-grass  and Alexanders in flower, with Dandelions and a golden strip of Lesser Celandines along the lane.

 

Greater Stitchwort. This picture was taken at the same time last year. It's not so forward this year.

Alexanders, a member of the carrot family. Said to have been brought by the Romans as an edible plant.It is common on the Cornish coast but less often seen inland.

 

Common ScurvyGrass. a member of the cress family, rich in vitamin C

 On the river bank were bushes of both Bullace (the flowers appearing with the first early leaves) and Sloe with tight clusters of white flowers appearing well before the leaves.

 

Bullace, flowering at the same time as its first leaves.

 

Blackthorn or Sloe blossoming before its leaves, and a bit later in the year than Bullace.

 

The Alder and Hazel catkins are over now and hang in dessicated remnants from the branches.

Carpets of shiny Ramsons leaves were up, tufts of bright green Hemlock Water Dropwort with the grey-green spears of Yellow Iris leaves among them and on the banks of the small side streams, cushions of yellow-green Golden Saxifrage were in flower.

 

Golden Saxifrage.

 The earth and stone banks round the meadow had early Barren Strawberry and the demure Ground Ivy.a childhood favourite, about the first flower I remember learning to recognize.

Barren Strawberry flowers before Wild Strawberry, and as its name suggests, it doesn't form strawberry fruits. Unlike Wild Strawberry, its petals are rounded, with a gap between them. Wild Strawberry petals have pointed tips, and are closer together, and its leaves end in a pointed tip, not blunt like Barren Strawberry.

Ground Ivy (no relative of Ivy)

 

Wild Daffs and Wood Anemones were in  flower on the banks below us as we walked up  alongside the river.

 

Probably true Wild Daffodils, but they are very difficult to distinguish from various similar cultivated ones especially here in Cornwall where daffodils are still grown widely as a commercial crop particularly in West Cornwall. They were once grown commercially here in East Cornwall too, but less now. However they are widely naturalized and grow freely on our hedgebanks. One spring recently, walking along about a half mile stretch of lane near the Tamar we counted 23 different cultivars.

 

Windflower or Wood Anemone. They are said to be indicators of ancient woodland because they spread very slowly therefore need a long-term stable habitat.

 We were walking along a well marked badger path in the sandy soil where flood debris was clotting the bushes some 12 or 15 feet above the present water level. Fresh Otter Spraint was left on the exposed boles of the big oaks overhanging the water. 

 

Flood debris. Goodness knows how this branch got woven over, under, and over the overhanging trunks!

A Dipper whisked out from an overhanging tuft of brambles n the riverbank and flew fast and low round the corner and out of sight.

 

 

Dipper. (I'm grateful to Linda Scott for this photo.)

 

They nest early, like Mistle Thrushes and Herons. Ravens were croaking overhead; in the riverside oaks and meadow hedge a nuthatch was calling insistently and a Great Tit and a party of Long-tailed Tits were calling. A couple of pairs of Mallard flew up from the side of the river as we approached, quacking indignantly. Our return walk along the sunny SE-facing hedge was surprisingly quiet for insect life: no butterflies or hoverflies. Just a few gingery furred Dung Flies on the new sheep droppings and a lot of blackish spiders scuttled away as I scuffed through a patch of young nettles to clean the mud off my boots. We had to wait till we got back to our own garden shortly afterwards, to see our first Small Tortoiseshell of the year.

Here at home the Jackdaws have re-possessed their chimney nesting site in the garden shed but we haven’t seen any of our regular garden birds carrying nesting material yet except for the House Sparrows. The nuthatches seem to be up to their usual trick of beginning to appropriate a nest box and hammering the entrance hole to suit, then abandoning it in favour of another, but meanwhile discouraging other species from using the box!

The rookery at the end of the lane is very active with a highly vocal community of birds standing on or close to their big nests declaring ownership and no doubt attempting to discourage twig-theft by their neighbours. The new ‘splinter group’ have so far built 14 nests in big oaks in the hedge one field away. Because there has been such a big increase in numbers of walkers passing below the original rookery we wonder if this was the reason for a substantial number of the community decamping to a quieter site. Normally the original rookery builds up to about 20 nests, compared to this year’s 15.

Bumble Bees are scarce so far; mainly queen Buff-tailed Bombus terrestris, fossicking around looking for nesting holes.

 

Buff-tailed Bumble bee. (Bombus terrestris.)

It's quite common to see Bumble-bees, especially the big queens, stranded on the ground, perhaps caught out on a cold day. They run out of steam and can't fly. A simple rescue frequently works. Dissolve a little white sugar in warm water in a teaspoon and push it under the bee's head. As often as not, very quickly you see their long straight black proboscis unfurl and drink lengthily from the sugar syrup. When they have had sufficient they move around. At this stage I take them outside and put them on a plant or flower high enough off the ground to give them a lift and more often than not, they take off and fly away.

  

Usually we can be expecting to see Common Violets in flower, Brimstone Butterflies (apart from one flukishly early female which usually appear AFTER the males.) and Oil Beetles. I’m sure they are to be seen but we’ve missed them so far, together with the earlier spring harbinger, Dogs Mercury.  We rarely see my childhood favourite, Coltsfoot here in Cornwall.

Coltsfoot. They flower before the leaves appear. They used to be a bothersome weed in our garden when I was a kid. Their deep roots were difficult to get out and I remember Dad saying ruefully that if the coltsfoot managed to flower in the garden, he'd lost the battle!

 

We’re still waiting to hear our first Chiffchaff although the garden is full of a medley of birdsong: Blackbird, Robin, Song Thrush, wheezing Greenfinches, tinkling Goldfinches, the falling song of Chaffinch which Mum used to describe as if it was falling down stairs, and these days the pretty little song of Siskins which now breed in or near the garden. Back in the '80s they were a novelty down here, occasionally seen feeding on peanuts in those red nets they used to be sold in. Now they are regular residents.

These things form the structure of our usual seasons and it’s oddly disorientating when you don’t see them.

Blogs I follow include:

www.northcornwallnaturalist.blogspot.com 

www.musingsfromhigherdowngateandelsewhere.blogspot.com 

www.downgatebatman.blogspot.com 

 

I MUST GET THIS OFF MY CHEST!

 

 I Must Get This Off My Chest!

The current passion for the Environment, Re-wilding, Flower-rich Meadows, Pollinators and other such evocative terms, gives rise to a huge amount of muddled thinking and downright piffle sometimes.

I don’t doubt a great many people are in theory supportive of these ideals, but are misled and confused by woolly talk and often incorrect information by obviously inexperienced journalists even calling themselves ‘from our science correspondent’ and  their reports presumably edited by equally inexperienced staff. A complicated network of different aims and concepts tend to be lumped together in one over-simplified bundle.

I have just read that the crowds gathered on a patch of grass in Bristol a year ago to hear a rallying cry from Greta Thunberg trampled the grass into a muddy morass. Over £20,000 was raised very quickly from a mortified public with the stated aim ” To create Wild-flower Meadows at the site in the hope of attracting more pollinators such as bees and insects.” Good! Two buzz-words in one sentence! The claim went on “The Meadow will contain species native to the UK such as Strawberry Clover, Cowslip, White Campion, and Tufted Vetch, as well as bright flowering species such as Common Poppy, Cornflower and Yellow Rattle.” I skeptically ask is this the right place for anything other than hard-wearing amenity grass? When the suggested plants grow enough to flower, there will be cries to cut it short for picnicking and playing. The suggested species include a bizarre mix of a largely maritime turf plant (Strawberry Clover) , hedgerows (Tufted Vetch) and annuals of disturbed ground (White Campion, Common Poppy and Cornflower) These last will disappear when the establishing turf closes over.

A year on, I’d be interested to know what has actually happened to that beaten-up patch of Bristolian grass.

Seeds suppliers frequently sell to a well-meaning public, “Wildflower seeds mixes” and sure enough, the customer is rewarded with a colourful show usually comprising poppies, cornflowers, often corn cockle, corn marigold, and various white-flowered daisy species. Then as this sown area closes over with grasses in the following year, the flower show dwindles. Perhaps there are a few dog daisies and knapweeds as these are perennials which don’t flower their first year, but the main splendid colour show of the previous year has gone; the customer is disappointed and wonders where he has gone wrong, not realizing that his seeds mix is largely of showy annuals, and not necessarily even all British natives or even of British provenance.

A typical 'Wildflower seeds mix' sold by a reputable company, claiming this was a mix of 'native wildflowers'.

 

Corn Cockle, one of the species in the above mix. This highly poisonous plant is extinct in the wild in the UK! It was a very troublesome arable weed in the past because it has a large seed which was difficult to clean out from harvested corn.

 

A few years ago, in response to figures quoting Cornwall’s wooded cover to be a mere 10% compared to a national 13% (and a European  up to 35%) the County Council announced a ‘Forest for Cornwall’ scheme whereby in ten years some ‘ 8000 hectares will be planted in Cornwall to address this shortfall.’ The stated thinking is to ‘increase all forms of canopy cover throughout Cornwall whilst strengthening the protection of our existing backbone of trees, woodlands and hedgerows as part of Cornwall Council’s response to Climate Change, and striving towards Cornwall becoming Carbon Neutral.’ There is a pledge to ‘place the right trees in the right places for the right purposes’

Brave words! The planting of these trees seems to be an ad hoc arrangement of planting by all sorts of groups, individuals or community-led projects.  Where will all these trees come from? Who will advise on the species?  And their local appropriateness to the site?  Is the site appropriate or is an existing already good habitat being replaced by a tree-planting scheme in order to tick a politically-correct box? Who will plant theses trees and maintain them in their vulnerable early stages?

In 2019 amid great fanfare with flags and bunting, local schoolchildren and the town mayor in all his finery had a Grand Opening of a nearby town’s contribution to the Forest for Cornwall.

The Grand Launch. It's a pity so much public goodwill is to an extent frittered by not really getting to the point.

  

In summer 2020 we went to have a look at it. A biggish area of amenity grassland in the middle of a big residential area and very popular with dog walkers and others, now has several small areas fenced with chestnut paling and containing a mix of deciduous trees. They were on the big side (and more expensive) for successful planting but had more visual impact I suppose. However a significant number were failing or struggling. Different plantings included Copper Beech, Hornbeam, Grey Alder, several  foreign Birch species and most bizarre, a Gingko!  The Copper Beech and the various foreign Birch species belong in a more ornamental ‘gardened’ setting. Grey Alder ( a native of. Eastern Europe) is a favourite and very successful amenity species, Hornbeam does not grow naturally in Cornwall but only as an introduction and Gingko that famous Chinese tree, almost extinct in its own country is grown in the UK as an exotic novelty. There are also a number of Oaks, doing very well but of a variety I have never seen in Britain so I wonder exactly who suggested this collection of trees and where they came from.  There wasn’t much attention paid to the County Council’s stated aim of ‘the right tree’. All the enclosures were heavily mulched with tree bark which successfully prevented the growth of much ground flora but was hosting great tufts of the dread honey fungus! This venture cost  a considerable sum.  But rather than a source of civic pride the whole misbegotten scheme should be a cause for mortification for money spent on an unsatisfactory scheme which could have been so much more true to the spirit of the stated aims.  At present, Covid has prevented a return visit.

 Meanwhile the Forest for Cornwall Newsletter still seems to have nothing new to add to the 2019 tree-planting scheme mentioned above, except the planting of a ‘Wildflower Meadow’ near Padstow.  Another pledge is to create more woodland habitats along the A30 in parts of Cornwall. However as far as I have seen,  as soon as any substantial tree and shrub cover along this road develops, it is cleared!

Countryfile a couple of nights ago was deploring again the every-widening disconnect between children and the natural world and pleading for more natural history education in schools. Fine words but where are the teachers who know anything about Natural History? The Nature Tables? The walks? The countryside these days seems to be regarded as a hostile environment with all sorts of Health & Safety  hazards, E coli and a host of things waiting to get us.

There is much talk of the wish of youngsters inflamed by Thunberg-style rallies and protests, driving a political change, and millions of well-meaning words and wishes about Climate Change and Sustainability are churned out, but the real disconnect lies in the simple basics of looking at nature, learning to name. It’s easy enough to talk about abstract issues.....

 

 

WATERHOLES 2 : FRUIT BATS & CROCODILES

WATERHOLES 2: FRUIT BATS & CROCODILES   

Saltwater Crocodiles.

We’ve stayed at several bush camps up in the Gulf Country which claimed to be where the  much-loved  film Crocodile Dundee was shot, and each time the stories got taller and the crocodile longer.

However, the Saltwater Crocodile doesn’t get its evil reputation for nothing. They are formidable, cunning, patient and intelligent. Every year the North can tell of a sprinkling of narrow-escapes, and of limbs and occasionally lives lost by the unsuspecting, unwary or complacent.

'Saltie' on the watch. Taken from a boat in the Kakadu National Park, Northern Territory.

  

Nor are they restricted to salt water. They occur all round the coast of N. Australia from Broome in the NW to well down the Queensland coast, and not only in salt water but in estuaries and thence up rivers, into billabongs waterholes and swamps inland.

 

Freshwater (Johnson’s) Crocodile

This smaller species, growing to about 6 feet and less than half the size of a ‘saltie’ are  common in the freshwaters all around the north of Australia. Again, they are the top predator of smaller birds and animals but are said not to attack people. They are wary and shy.

 

'Freshie'

Approaching Napier Range and Winjana Gorge.

 Winjana Gorge from the log: “We pulled into the official campsite among the scattered gums in the middle of the day. A long Black-headed Python wriggled across the track ahead of us. 

 

Black-headed Python.

 

A long -drop dunny.

 

The site was deserted, the ablutions closed, only one long-drop dunny was useable and the usual wood supply by the fire-pit was reduced to a handful of bark scraps. Up-side, no honesty box and no Ranger to collect a fee!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After setting up camp in the thin shade of a wispy tree we walked down into the gorge through a cleft among a great tumble of huge boulders. This is where the Lennard River has cut a gorge through the limestone of the Napier Range. A gathering of bugs were aestivating on the leaf of a creeper and just beyond, a Blue Argus butterfly basked in the sun as we came out to the wide, flat bottom of the gorge, heaped with low domed sandbanks and a sizeable waterhole.

Bugs sheltering from the summer heat.

 

 

Blue Argus butterfly.

The Lennard River is reduced to a series of waterholes in the gorge in the summer.

 

On the other side was a thicket of Melaleucas with a crowded throng of Flying Foxes  -- Little Reds  -- They were draped along the arching branches in an irritable mass, stretching their wings, shuffling, squabbling and now and then taking off. It was as if they were too hot and crowded. You could smell their stench from 50 yards away.

 

Flying Foxes roosting.

 

 

 

Little Red Flying Fox.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now and then one swooped down to the water below to dip its chest and then flew back up to the colony or ‘camp’ to get a grip with its toes and turn head down to groom and sip droplets of moisture from its fur.

 

Fruit Bat flying down to dip in the water below the roost.

 

 Six or seven ‘freshies’ were lurking in the still green water, waiting for a bat to plunge close enough to grab. We watched many such plunges and lunges, but didn’t see a catch.

 

Like a log floating in the water, a 'Freshie' lurking, hoping for a catch.

Further along, a Darter was standing on the far shore, wings outstretched to dry like a Cormorant on the rocks at home. It was being stealthily stalked by a small freshie in the water behind it, but the water was too shallow and the freshie broke surface and alarmed the darter before it was in reach.

Driving in, we crossed the Lennard river before it went into the gorge and we stopped on the bridge to look down into the water below. It was a deep pool, lit by shafts of sun and looked clear, like very weak tea without milk.. Several young  freshies, no more than a foot long, were hanging, tail down, suspended  motionless in the water.

The adults we saw down in the gorge sunning themselves on the sandbanks were no more than about six feet long. They were very wary and quickly got up on their cranked legs and slid into the water and disappeared. Now and then a snout and top of the back appeared, like a bit of floating log.

Picking up armfuls of dead branches we went back to camp. It had been like an oven in the gorge. We made a smoky fire. The bush flies were bad . We didn’t want much to eat but we drank till we were bloated.”

Later, from log: “Sitting out in the last of the light under an opalescent sky. The flies, especially bad up here, have gone to bed. And then the Little Reds started. They must have been the ones from the camp in the gorge.  For about twenty minutes they flitted silently in a stream overhead, fanning out across the savannah beyond in the gathering darkness.  I wonder how far  they had to go to find sufficient flower nectar or pollen to feed that great number?"

 

Flying away from roost at twilight

Tunnel Creek.

2 days later “Pulled out from Winjana. Still no Ranger. Stopped to have a look at Tunnel Creek. A river has tunnelled through the ancient reef limestone of the Napier Range.

 

 

Savannah and Napier Range, an ancient reef of coralline limestone,once under the sea.

Taking torches and candles  --  belt & braces  --   we followed the stream into the entrance at the base of the precipitous rock face. We picked our way between big boulders and shallow puddles  till we came to a sort of amphitheatre where  long ago there had been a roof fall. Open to the sky high above, some light filtered down and we could see a large murky pool stretching right across with steepish muddy banks. We waded in. It got to thigh deep but to my relief, no more. Freshies must have been on the banks and we heard them splashing into the water but couldn’t see them. T. & K said I was hanging onto them VERY tight! But, living up to their reputation, the freshies didn’t grab us! Further on, we emerged into the bright white light into a grove of trees at the far end.

Pool below ancient roof-fall in the middle of Tunnel Creek.

Emerging from far end of Tunnel Creek.

We poked around a bit but I was in a rush to go back; I wasn’t relishing the return journey so wanted to get it over and done.”

 

Whew! We've done it!

Douglas Hot Springs.

 From log….It’s good sometimes to revisit a place you liked, to get more out of it.  Though it doesn’t always pay to try and repeat a success. We chanced it this time as we wanted to show it to Kim, following our visit in ’92. It is a jumble of marshy pools, open water and billabongs among  the savannah and pandanus. The water steamed, bubbled and the hotter pools looked scummy and smelt sulphurous. 

 

Steaming hot pool at Gregory Hot Springs.

 

 

Rahjah or White- headed Shelduck, otherwise called Burdekin.

 On our previous visit we had watched a couple of  drake Rahjah Shelduck fighting furiously till they fell into the water still interlocked and wings beating. They went on fighting and squawking till they disentangled and flew up and away. We expected them to be par-boiled with damaged feathers and lost toe-nails but they seemed OK!

Abundant dragonflies, some of them exquisite.

 

 

Some of the pools were hot and scummy; some clean, fresh and tempting. I'm under my hat on the right!

 On this visit with Kim she seemed suitably impressed. After tea she and Tony went lamping along the waterhole behind our camp. They quickly came back to fetch me, with talk of ‘shining green eyes’ lit up in the torch beams.

The next day, still suffering from the heat Kim and I took to the water.

From our log: “ Bliss! We just lay and wallowed. It was like tepid bathwater. Perfect! Only our heads and hats showed. We were so still and quiet the birds came down from the bushes and several freshies appeared like floating pieces of wood, just beyond where the waterhole curved away from us. We didn’t want to get out, though when the freshies sank as quietly as they’d appeared, we did wonder whether they were swimming towards or away from us!”

 

Kim never stopped drawing.

 I follow these blogs:

www.downgatebatman.blogspot.com 

www.northcornwallnaturalist.blogspot.com 

www.musingsfromhigherdowngateandelsewhere.blogspot.com