Nature Notes July 2012 by Pete Lambert

As a school child in suburban south-east London I remembered listening with mild scepticism as an adult told me that the leaves of the May thorn growing around the tarmac playground tasted like ‘bread and cheese’, I tried a few leaves and remained unconvinced. I was startled into this memory by an encounter in the car park of Montgomery Castle, deep scarlet double flowers adorned what turned out to be a cultivar of the Midland hawthorn, known as ‘Paul’s Scarlet’ or the ‘Pink May’[Though this is the proper name of a Common Hawthorn variety].  The abundance of flowers and their rich hue are most satisfying in such a modest sized tree.  The Midland hawthorn easily hybridises with the Common hawthorn and they are distinguished by the leaf shape, the Midland shallowly lobed as against the deep cut of the Common hawthorn leaf. Later when the haws are present you can split the flesh and if a single pip is found then the thorn is the Common, 2 to 3 pips then usually you have found a Midland [ though beware of all the hybrids!]The thorn at the Castle had been planted, native Midland thorns not being found in great quantity in the north, but in the southern counties associated with old hedges, ancient woodland and clay soils. ‘Paul’s Scarlet’ first originated in 1858 at Waltham’s Cross and now a popular suburban favourite which I think, brings me back to my school day memories.

Just above the garage project, and tucked under the eaves stuck by some ingenious birdy glue were slung a set of mud- cup nests. The human engineers craned their necks to admire the avian master builders, but also wonder why the entrance hole had been made so small that the adult bird had great difficulty in getting back out of the nest once the internal brood had been fed. First a wing, then the head but not both and finally an ungainly squeeze to swoop and soar to find more insect sustenance for its gaping young, who could be seen in a partially completed nest a few joists down.  The bird had white under-parts and a white rump, the tail was short and mildly forked a House martin.  Other birds have learnt to appreciate the advantages of the built environment; recently a Grey heron caused a stir in a local garden as it landed heavily on the tiled roof ridge. We have a brick walled old barn opposite the house and as the aged mortar has dislodged, a sociable flock of breeding House sparrows has taken up all available resulting holes for nesting caverns. Sadly not all birds appreciate the benefits of our construction projects, windows being clear and hard proved fatal for a male chaffinch last week, the paper-lad placing the still warm body in a more respectful location than its poignant falling place in the centre of the gravelled path below the glassy panels.

For a brief while the early summer lifted and with a clatter of aluminium we set up our stove to brew up atop Pole Bank, the summit of the Long Mynd. The long walk up from Bridges had been pleasantly cool and the views were easy over the short, stiff, heather moorland. We had found a patch of dry acid grassland, short cropped, spongy and in no time at all covered in a disturbing number of millipedes.  I tried to rationalise, the millipede unlike the centipede, has two legs per segment and importantly are a vegetarian species feeding on living and dead plant matter. Our lunch spot was being invaded by a black millipede, Tachypodoilus niger; occasionally they would curl like a watch spring when disturbed by our attempts to avoid them. I learnt later that the Tachypodoilus will climb trees to feast on mosses and algae, so they climb too! I think it’s the movement of all those legs that creates our irrational response to this essentially harmless arthropod. At the end of the day emptying our rucksacks, I took the mugs down to be washed and yes, a millipede, we did laugh, nervously!

Over the last few weeks I have found myself back at Nant y Arian in the Pumlumon and this time clear skies allowed a clear view of the feeding Red kites. Better still a recent birding trip to Dolydd Hafren, a Montgomeryshire Wildlife Trust nature reserve, and a quiet half hour in their high hide was rewarded by the another Red kite encounter, a looming shadow the first sign of the raptors presence. And finally a week later, as we had trekked down the Portway at the northern end of the Long Mynd, the same giveaway shadow alerted us to another Red kite sighting, nice!

Happy Wildlife spotting, Pete.