Wednesday 9th October 2024, Titterstone Clee, Cleeton St Mary
🎉500 Up!
This outing marked our 500th site visit (by my reckoning) in the 13 years that the group has been undertaking forays into the Shropshire, and surrounding countryside.
And I missed it!
The outing was to an area in the foothills of Titterstone Clee, in the vicinity of Cleeton St Mary which lies east of northeast of the summit. The habitat being surveyed was mainly grassland peppered with wet flushes, ditches and a stream.
As I was absent enjoying a break in Dorset I asked for snippets of information about the day from which I could cobble together this report.
Normally I would paraphrase any responses into the report but, on this occasion, as their contributions present such different views of the day, I have decided to present them verbatim (with a couple of editorial tweaks). Each is followed by a few photographs.
The Generalist and star spotter of very interesting but often very small things:
“A couple of us, together with The New Dear leader had a easy journey there and we were surprised to not be heading for the blackest part of the sky, our pleasure was slightly diminished as we drove past the parking spot, past the Church and out of the village looking for the presumed parking spot……… A mile or so later we turned round, retraced our steps and parked behind other members of the group, a few others arrived shortly after. it was decided the lower slopes by the ditch would be too wet so we headed up hill. The weather was dry, very occasionally light rain but mostly mizzling! Two Cordyceps were found early on. Very, very few bugs, the highlight was male and female Periscope Head spiders found around lunch time. Someone has a smart weevil to id and that’s about it. We gave up c3pm as a large bank of dark rain cloud approached.
“I was amused that we remained in sight of the cars the whole time. As the crow flies we may have done less than a mile!!”
A cordyceps fungus, Cordyceps militaris, which is generally a parasite of moth and butterfly larva buried in the soil.
Photograph: David Williams |
Here is a second.
Photograph: John Martin |
Another fungus, found on bracken, Typhula quisquiliaris, known as Bracken club.
Photograph: David Williams |
A lacebug associated with moss, Acalypta parvula.
Photograph: David Williams |
A second lacebug, usually found on gorse, Dictyonota strichnocera.
Photograph: David Williams |
A ground bug, Drymus brunneus.
Photograph: Nigel Cane-Honeysett |
The birder (and botanist and lots of other things):
“The only tale I can provide is that of the ouzel hunt. I thought an isolated Rowan with loads of berries looked good for a migrant Ring Ouzel and we all saw a group of Redwings and a couple of Mistle Thrushes fly out from it. I went over to check but there didn't seem to be any ouzels in there. I actually played a recording of their call just in case it prompted one to pop up. I then returned and played it to the some of the group too so we knew what to listen for. It was something of a surprise some time later when one then called back from the direction of the Rowan. Some blackish thrushes were moving about in there but hard to see. A couple more flew in including a nice male Ring Ouzel with an obvious white crescent on the breast. The group approached cautiously but the ouzels melted away somehow, a couple flying off up the hill and the rest disappearing somewhere unknown. I wandered round the back of the tree and circled round to see if they were in the Bracken but just managed to fall into a ditch and ended up upside down with my phone resting on bracken above the water. Otherwise the day was without incident. Luckily this was not captured on camera”
Lesser skullcap;
Photograph: John Martin |
Lemon-scented fern
Photograph: John Martin |
A very damp ground bug, Stygnocoris sabulosus.
Photograph: John Martin |
A psyllid, an Aphalara species.
Photograph: John Martin |
A plant bug, Lygus rugulipennis.
Photograph: Nigel Cane-Honeysett |
The arachnologist (and deputy weevilist):
“The day it rained forever (apologies to Ray Bradbury)
“The weather forecast looked fine all week – no chance of rain whatsoever.
“Accordingly, a merry band of Joy of Wildlifers set out for the slopes of Titterstone Clee adjacent to Cleeton St Mary. The occasional use of windscreen wipers on the way was dismissed as an aberration that would go away.
“Having sailed (that term will seem more relevant as this tale unravels) past the layby where we were supposed to meet, much consultation of maps and apps resulted in a u-turn and, spotting other JoW members who got it right first time, parking and disembarking was achieved
.
“Unloading equipment and donning suitable outdoor clothing without getting one or both of those covered in sheep droppings proved just out of reach despite proverbial effort but was, literally, shrugged off. At least it wasn’t raining!
“Unloading equipment and donning suitable outdoor clothing without getting one or both of those covered in sheep droppings proved just out of reach despite proverbial effort but was, literally, shrugged off. At least it wasn’t raining!
“Leaping, fording, wading and other techniques were employed to cross a stream that crossed our path on to the slopes of the Clee.
“Almost immediately it began to rain. Whilst awaiting the rain to clear, after all the weather forecast said it wouldn’t rain at all, we beat, swept and vacc’d and then watched terrestrial invertebrates learning how to swim in the collecting trays. Front crawl, backstroke but, alas, no butterfly!
“Those who read our leader’s carefully prepared site Working Information Card (WIC) knew to expect “wet flushes” (for those of a delicate disposition this refers to the terrain and not any medical condition) and were suitably shod (ditto) so the considerable amount of surface water proved navigable whilst we waited for the rain to clear.
“Finally the sacred Time of Lunching arrived so we looked for somewhere to shelter. This proved to be only available along the banks of a stream which, by know, gave a good impression of a raging torrent. As we had been steadily ascending whilst beating, sweeping, vaccing and waiting for the rain to clear we now had to negotiate a steep slope made slippery by, yes, you’ve guessed it, the rain.
View from the lunch spot. Photograph: David Williams |
“Nevertheless we descended with all equipment and, most vitally, lunch. There we sat under some trees dripping with water but at least giving us some shelter from the rain itself. We did a bit of vaccing and poking around and then realised that the water dripping from the trees was just that – the rain itself had stopped! Eagerly we scrambled back up the slope to be met by the soft refreshing rain which had just re-started.
“Go back a few paragraphs and repeat until well and truly soaked. Keeping a weather eye out (the other one was kept dry under waterproof headgear) we decided that the approaching mist and gloom was not, in fact, the eagerly anticipated clearing in the rain but more of the same in spades.
“We stuck it out for just long enough to be considered dedicated but not totally lunatic and then, skirting the large inland sea which had mysteriously appeared as if from nowhere but we know where it came from don’t we readers, we returned to the cars which were much closer than usual on these forays.
“So was it all worth it? Well this arachnologist thinks it was. We found a Nationally Scarce money spider (Hypselistes jacksoni) and another one we are always pleased to see and which we call Mr Periscope Head due to the bizarre head region on the male particularly and which can now guess at the function of. This in addition to the largest number of arachnid species encountered since the summer but did I mention the rain?”
Here are some of those arachnid species:
Hyposinga pygmaea;
Photograph: Nigel Cane-Honeysett |
Zygiella atrica;
Photograph: Nigel Cane-Honeysett |
Mr and Mrs Periscopehead, Walckenaera acuminata;
Photograph: Nigel Cane-Honeysett |
Mr Periscopehead;
Photograph: David Williams |
And finally some beetles:
A pair of Pselaphus beetles. The one on the left is Pselaphus heisei.
Photograph: Nigel Jones |
A heath ladybird, Scymnus femoralis.
Photograph: David Williams |
And a weevil Andrion regensteinense.
My thanks to David for taking care of all the arrangement leading up to the visit and on the day, to Jim, John and Nigel for their contributions and to the photographers for their wonderful images and allowing me to use them in this report.
Quincentenary + 1
This outing, scheduled for Manor Road Pit Mound and Dawley Deepfield in Telford was cancelled due to heavy and persistent rain. We will have to wait for no. 501.
Dothill - Prequel
After reading my report about our visit to this site, my wife reminded me that a petition had been handed to Wrekin Council, requesting conservation of the habitat around Dothill Pool, in 1988. This was organised by three primary school children - one of whom was my son! How could I forget?
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