Turned out nice... at last

Yay, the first sign of spring for me is the blooming Coltsfoot - late this year, of course, but as we've had a run of south-westerlies in February I think that the season will catch up this year.

Yew are blooming too, the male flowers above on one tree, and the green female ones on the next tree. How romantic - standing side by side but destined never to touch. The female flowers are on the stem, by the way, and the flower-like growth at the tip is a Yew Gall Midge gall (Taxomyia taxi - thanks Claire!)

In the depths of the wood the slow-growing Butcher's Broom's tiny flowers briefly show, then if fertilised turn into ripe red berries.
The bugs were out today and I think this might be a solitary wasp - perhaps one of the multi-talented pan-listers can help?

Oare was lovely in the afternoon sunshine in good company - nothing special to be seen, but a Merlin and a Little Owl were perched on a bank, 119 Avocets swept the shallows of the creek, a Little Egret waded in a roadside pool and Golden Plovers glowed in the sun.

Yew suckers

Another grotty weekend, but not totally wasted (the weekend, not me) as I passed a morning clearing scrub from the Lynch, probably the only inland chalk downland left in the parish.
The 1930s OS map shows the Lynch as a mile of unwooded slope, where now almost all is scrub and trees.
The good news is that some of the trees are yews, which provide more interest than the ubiquitous sycamores and holm oaks. Ash keys, yew berries and wayfaring tree seeds are enthusiastically populating the last area of grassland while blackthorn and dogwood encroach by suckers. A little clearance is all that's needed to keep the last bit free of scrub, but it would be good to push it back with some heavy machinery.
A party of four goldcrests with six (British) long-tailed tits brightened the gloom, and even in the depths of winter there are still a few plants to lift the spirits, like salad burnet and carline thistle, with its apparently dead seed-head shut tight against the miserable weather.
Little more was encountered on a slippery muddy walk along the Lynch to Oxney Wood, apart from some untrained fighting dogs (don't worry, he won't hurt you).

Bird sighting of the day was a great spotted woodpecker surveying the village from the top of the church cross, while 31 nest-sites were occupied by fulmars along the cliffs over the rifle range - a higher number than in the past when 17-26 sites have been counted.

Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep

The best experience this weekend was when I was washing the car (bear with me on this) - a Coal Tit sang from a leafless shrub just six feet away from my ear, unafraid of my presence. His song included the usual Great-Tit-like teacher, as well as tumbling random phrases that put me in mind of that classic 70s track. For a few minutes, the dreariness of another dull weekend was banished.
[The photo above is from a few years ago - the sunshine shows it wasn't taken in 2011]
Some plants are struggling towards spring - Goat Willow (why goat - why not pussy?)
A few of the scattering of Moschatel plants near my back gate has started to put up their tiny flower stems; while the eagerly-sought first flowering of Coltsfoot at the bottom of the cliffs amounts to just one stalk - last year it was also late, appearing on Feb 27th whereas it was in full bloom on 18th and 20th January in 2008 & 2009.

The original fat Blackcap has left the feeders to his slimmer rival, distinguished by slight differences in its plumage (and a more svelte figure).

A walk along the beach to Walmer reminded me of the density of the alien invasion from the gardens onto the shingle. Holm Oak and Red Valerian plants and seedlings are ubiquitous, while others like Silver Ragwort and Red Hot Poker are currently confined to an area closer to the houses, but are spreading strongly.
"Native plants do not, as a rule, spread suddenly and rapidly all over the place " wrote Peter Marren, "nor do they normally shrink to vanishing point just as suddenly. A native plant should be more or less in balance with its wild environment."
It's clear that the age-old lichen and native plants are being out-competed by the incomers that have found a favourable climate on the beach.
The draft management plan by the White Cliffs Countryside project can be found here, and if supported it will enable us to protect at least some of the beach from invading species.

The sun ain't gonna shine anymore...

With the wind back into the south-west, we've got thick cloud and drizzle. Most weekends. It could be worse - we could live in Australia. The least grim photograph was of Knot, Dunlin and Lapwings at Pegwell Bay where time passed watching the rising tide was complemented by good company, including Craig who provided information on the large numbers of slightly differently-toned gulls.

A female Merlin dashed across the mudflats every quarter of an hour, scattering gulls and waders but taking none of them - she landed after each foray beside a sign that read "No Landing". These raptors, eh? Think they own the place.

A new map website was found today- http://archivemaps.com/mapco/, with the Kent part in 1801 here.

On this map, the name Ringwould is part-way through its morph from Kingeswoulde. It must have been very confusing before standardisation, and looking up the village in an index must have been time-consuming.

Old Bottom and East Bottom are shown, but not Otty Bottom or Oxney Bottom. Residents might like to note that a grid has been shown between East Bottom farm and the village, where Kingsdown Hill and Victoria, Hillcrest and Queensdown Roads are now. I assume that these represent fields of cultivated land carved out of the downland.

Only one of the Northern Long-tailed Tits seems to be around the village now (of the two seen previously) but I'm pleased to report that it has been seen, with a small party of the usual type, in the churchyard - more salubrious surroundings than "by the public toilets" which is where they were initially reported.

The scattered plants of Spurge-Laurel in the village is coming into flower - along footpaths, in the woods and in my garden, I'm proud to report.

In the North-East

It didn't take long for my temporary optimism to be dissolved away. The point in the last post was that despite the well-documented threats to our wildlife, there is more and wider protection now than ever before and we should recognise that fact before considering the future.

Today, however, I spent a day off from work travelling around the north-east tip of Kent, and was appalled to find only two Sanderlings, one of my favourite species. TWO! Dos, due, deux, just a couple, a pair, TWO! There are normally between 100 and 200 around Foreness, with 50+ Ringed Plovers and at least double figure counts of Purple Sandpipers, or which there were absolutely none this time. Even the Turnstone numbers were low.

The only other interesting bird was an oiled Guillemot being chased back into the water by a dog - and there's the rub.... despite the notices, the dog-walkers keep scattering the roosts and I suppose on a Monday morning the waders haven't returned from their weekend refuges.

I went to my farm shop of choice and bought up as much fruit and veg as I could carry, in a fit of retail therapy.
Thence to Reculver, where a considerable eastward movement of divers was evident, but where there was little close in, apart from a Grey Plover on one leg.......
... and a flock of 400+ Brents that flew noisily from the fields to the sea and back again, entertaining us while we searched for three little pebble-sized, pebble-coloured birds.
When the three Shorelarks appeared, they were easy to see, but when you're trying to find them it's another matter.

The sun appeared when I got to Stodmarsh, but again all was quite quiet apart from a party doing some winter work - no complaints from me, as the efforts that these volunteers are putting in now will reap benefits in years to come.

Reasons to be (a little bit more) Cheerful

Recent blogs here and here have worried away at the concern that things are inexorably getting worse in the British natural world, which led me thinking about the wider picture, and I ended up with a reasonably optimistic feeling.

As a historian I try to go back a bit, and we don't have to look far before we see a world of lush and varied vegetation, fields and woods echoing with calls of multitudinous birds, and a myriad of insects flying or crawling over it all.

These kinds of habitat still prevail in some undeveloped parts of Europe, but for us the combination of fertilisers, pesticides, herbicides, environmental pollution, concrete, tarmac, cars and people destroyed much, no, almost all of this beautiful richness.

By the 1960s our environment was not only in a serious mess, but almost nobody cared and the few that did (arise Rachel Carson and others) had little information and less influence. But gradually these few managed to be heard, and the environmental organisations that already existed like the RSPB and the National Trust grew quickly and were joined by many others - wildlife trusts, Greenpeace, Friends of the Earth as well as local groups of people who saw the need for change.

The strength of protest in other areas like Civil Rights showed the environmental campaigners what could be done, and showed politicians the benefit of listening to arguments outside the mainstream. CND protests in the UK swayed popular opinion, and while some nature organisations raised money to protect "reserves", others improved the general environment - toxicity of farming chemicals was reduced, lead was taken out of petrol, industries and rivers have been cleaned up. Planning consent should now only be given if there are no serious environmental effects, and you should hear what developers say about bats, great-crested newts and white-clawed crayfish.

European legislation has also, of course, played an important part in forcing reluctant governments to "do the right thing".

Which brings us to today. Many of the species that were decimated by the devastation of the first half of the Twentieth Century have not returned, but some have - red kites, sparrowhawks, peregrines at the top of the food chain show improvements in conditions of their prey, while fish and otters have returned to rivers. Improvements in agriculture will have a slow effect, but hopefully although the field of corn will be sterile its surroundings may become richer.

Outside nature reserves, these improvements depend, of course, on "government policy" encouraging or enforcing good environmental practice. The voice of the environment is loud, and embraces right and left (hence the broad opposition to the sale of forests from green-wellie dog-walkers to green smelly eco-warriors). And although the Green Party seems destined to remain on the fringe of politics for the moment, voters should keep their MPs and councillors aware of the strong feelings on this matters.

There is a lot of lovely countryside out there, and although we know that much has gone, the patchwork of National Parks, marine and local nature reserves, SSSIs and Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty covers much of our land and has a protection that could only be dreamed of a few decades ago.

That's the positive bit - we are currently just about holding the line.

This article was brought to you by Optimists Anonymous - terms and conditions apply. Effects from climate change, government cuts, privatisation, nuclear fallout, oil leaks, chemical spills, genetic modification and Japanese Knotweed do not apply.

What's the difference between a wood and a forest?

What's the difference between a wood and a forest?

The origins of the words give a clue.... wood is derived from Old English, while forest is a Frankish word that came to Britain with the Normans and which included any wild area, not necessarily tree-covered.

As the Norman nobility were more concerned with hunting than the more mundane aspects of life, the word forest was applied to lands appropriated for this pastime but not for generally smaller woods that would have been used by the Anglo-Saxons for fuel, timber, pasture etc.

In East Kent, therefore, would Lyminge Forest have been owned by a Norman warrior, whereas Blean Woods, although larger, were not generally used by nobility for hunting and so retained the other name? Both Lambarde (1570) and Hasted (1778) wrote that by then there were no forests of protected hunting land in Kent, however.
Much of the Blean, extending in an arc from east to west of Canterbury, was owned by the Archbishop, Christ Church and other clerical houses, and is described well in a book The Blean, The Woodlands of a Cathedral City. It argues that, contrary to popular opinion, most of the countryside structure that we see today was already in place before the Romans arrived. Earlier settlers had cleared most of the areas that are now farmed, and had discarded unproductive land where now the woods and forests grow, and where slow-growing plants like Butcher's Broom confirm their age.
The Blean lies on poor soil which not only does not support arable crops, but also grows relatively poor trees, better for the underwood for fuel than standard trees for building, as they rarely grow straight and true.

The remains of ditches and hedges that were set up to mark ownership and rental, and to keep deer out, are still to be seen in places - below is a grown-out laid hedge in The Blean....
.... and at Lyminge the Forestry Commission's conifers are edged by coppiced beeches.
So who owns the woods and forests? In England, 80% is owned privately or by charities (including the Woodland Trust, RSPB etc), some better managed than others, and with varying degrees of access. The remaining 20% is owned by the Forestry Commission which was set up in 1919 with a wide brief to manage the land - and to increase timber production at minimum cost to the taxpayer which led to the damaging policy of increasing the amount of non-native conifer plantations that are now environmental deserts. Consequently Lyminge Forest looks more "foresty" with high densities of softwoods, while the Blean retains its English woodland image with mostly broad-leaved trees.

Now that biodiversity is higher on the list of the Commission's priorities, the price of timber and other wood products has fallen so that the cost to the taxpayer is £64m per year, according to the latest accounts. This is presumably due for the chop, to be axed, to be cut down (chose your own headline-grabbing metaphor) and large parts are for sale.

Last October, a press officer for the Forestry Commission vehemently denied Lyminge Forest would be sold. She said: "It isn't under consideration for sale - it's not true at all."

That's OK then. We won't need to call Swampy back to defend it again.