Nature Notes – March 2013 - Pete Lambert

Over a few chilly days I bodged together a new bird table to replace the battered rustic effort that had reached the end of its days serving the birds of the field and garden. Kicking a flat space through the snow I set up the none-too-bad service station and re-hung the peanuts and seed feeders. Slowly the birds checked out the unfamiliar platform and we were back in business. This year I had promised myself to set up a niger seed tube to try to attract our first goldfinches or bruise- eyed greenfinches. But the slap happy winds of winter had other ideas, overnight, bullying the table to the floor and breaking the top in half. Hmm back to the workshop. 

When the old table had been in business we were treated to the occasional visit from a Great spotted woodpecker. It has been long known that the woodpecker has a modified skull to absorb the shock of its habitual hammering.  The hammering is actually a form of communication and this can be tested when out in the woods. Choose a pair of dry sticks and knock them together to imitate the rapping of the woodpecker just heard and invariably they will come closer to investigate this possible mate. The drumming tempo of the Great spotted is steady in contrast to the high rapid staccato of the Lesser spotted woodpecker. The Lesser spotted species is the smallest European woodpecker and is generally confined to the southern half of Britain. The Green woodpecker rarely drums and by the latter part of the summer all is quiet from all three species.

All three woodpeckers have a distinctive slow and deep undulating flight. The flight pattern is caused by the intermittent flap of the wings followed by a glide, then the lift of another flap and a glide. Commonly they nest in tree holes which they excavate. Artificial nests can be created and those that are successful have cavities that have been filled with woody matter so the birds can still excavate the nest space. The Green woodpecker lays its brood earlier than its relatives, laying slightly more eggs per clutch, upwards of 7, though not all will survive to fledge.

Woodpeckers have a very long tongue which is tucked away in a coil inside the head. The Wryneck, a distant relative of the three British woodpeckers has a tongue 5 times the length of its beak. The Wryneck is a summer visitor to the far south of the UK but sadly is still in decline and is a very rare sight indeed. Our Great spotted woodpecker is conversely on the rise. Dutch elm disease assisted their resurgence and their omnivorous diet makes them more adaptable than other more fussy creatures. They like our peanut feeders which seem to appeal as they look a little like their natural pine kernel foods. Woodpeckers have long been considered pests for their timber tapping habits whether boat building oaks or telegraph poles. In fact in Elizabethan times an Act was passed to control ‘ noyfull fowls and vermin’ , what John Clare called ‘Nature’s carpenters’.  In that case I had better get our table fixed to save the neighbourhood trees!

It has been a wet and grim winter, a recent  brave and short cycle tour of the narrow lanes east of Ellesmere turned into a trial of man and boy against the elements. Fields have been and remain inundated. Crops lost and agricultural schedules gone haywire have made for a trying time, and tough times to come.  We snatched a solitary day sledging and then woke to find the white stuff washed away so rapidly that flooding could be the only result.  But in all this soaking misery the roadside clumps of snowdrop hold out a promise of better times to come, let them arrive soon!

Happy wildlife spotting,   

Pete Lambert.

Nature Notes - Feb 2013 - Pete Lambert

Gradually the floodwaters were receding, leaving brown silt like ash across towpaths and bankside vegetation. Having taken the last crunchy bite of my apple I leant over the iron lattice of the Coleham foot bridge and tossed the core towards the goosander flock untidily grouped upstream.  The handsome ducks were part of a mixed bunch of bottle-green headed males and rusty crowned females. Spotting the treat the birds sedate paddling turned into a mildly hurried scoot and then the pace quickened, the pack was led by a white flanked male who almost propelled himself out of the water by powerful web footed strokes. At the last moment the prize was snatched by a dive bombing black headed gull and the hungry cavalcade dispersed in disappointed anti-climax.

A few days later we took a Sunday morning perambulation of Colemere lake near Ellesmere the goosanders here announcing their arrival in a loud splashing thrash beyond our sight and then having recovered composure they glided into view. The goosander also known as the Pied Wigeon in Shropshire, is mainly found on freshwater lakes, primarily in the north and being a hole nesting bird needs veteran trees close by. Colemere is fringed by woodland of which a number of the trees are of great age and developing the cavities that so many birds need. The goosander is a ‘sawbill’ duck, its narrow and long bill is armed with rows of sharp teeth. Its primary diet is fish and this ‘sawbill’ gives the bird its deathly grip on its slippery prey.  Sadly this diet has lead to persecution but numbers seem steady and as work is underway to improve our rivers for all wildlife then I am sure there will be enough fish to go round.  The goosander is not the only ‘sawbill’ When close to the coast it can be easy to confuse the Red Breasted merganser with our inland goosander, but the merganser has the most distinctive ‘ragged double crest’ and a speckled brown chest.

To get the best out of the winter walking we had chosen a loop from Hughley below Wenlock Edge up onto the limestone edge itself and back down to the car again. My young companion proved his worth again when we had one of those special wildlife moments. His arm, finger pointing, flew up, hushing me at the same time. A small herd of fallow deer paused briefly the far side of a high but none too thick hedge, ears flicking they looked straight at us and then plunged out of view into the river bound copse below. Moments later a hare sprinted away from us or was it the four buzzards spiralling upwards on the late winter thermals below the Edge that had spooked this long legged sprinter. Finally W’s favourite, a Grey heron lifted up from a wooded meander , heading upstream to land and settle into a new angling spot. A few weeks later found us avoiding the crowds on the eastern flanks of the Wrekin Hill. W. was ahead and saw five fallow deer this time. A momentary pause by the deer, a nervous assessment , then easily downhill and into the thick conifer stems, to pass from sight.

And, finally an oddity from home. The open run of the chicken quarter has no roof. Mixed flocks of sparrows, dunnock, collared doves and corvids parachute in to peck away the seed mix scattered by the chook brown Warrens. A few evenings back we collected the eggs as usual, being hybrids most lay through the winter, and there between the powder blue Aracaunas and the usuals nestled a blue-grey egg addition. A check confirmed that a pheasant was not only enjoying the corn but had decided that the fruit box and whorl of hay was just the place for a little bit of laying!

Happy Wildlife Watching, from Pete Lambert

December 2012 Nature Notes - Pete Lambert

It cleaves so sweetly, the characteristic straight grain making the firewood pile grow steadily and with little effort. A short seasoning period is all that is needed and then on the fire to burn hot and easy.  I have a few long clefts saved for tool handles, hand shaped they are quirky and personal, the honey-yellow wood soaking up the impact of the swing, smoothing out each jarring whack.  Last week Sid’s side-axe and a favourite drawknife helped me cleave and carve a small chopping board to go in the rucksack for a leisurely mid ramble picnic. Whenever I work ash wood I get transported back to a heavy close planted Suffolk conifer stand where stately and ghost like, with its sandy coloured limbs twisted in sadness reaching up out of the gloom, a lonesome veteran ash tree had become locked away within the impinging rows. 

The recent alarm concerning the threat to our third most common native tree via an introduced fungal disease, Chalara fraxinea, has caused considerable debate and a steadily shifting variety of proclamations to confront this calamity. A number of personal thoughts occurred, firstly why have we been importing so many ash trees, when it so freely reproduces without any assistance from the attentions of a skilled nurseryman? And again why have we been planting trees without local provenance, wilfully importing genetic material against the standard advice of the Forestry Commission , Woodland Trust and the Wildlife Trust amongst other conservation organisations, advice which has been in place for decades! Sorry I have found myself ranting a little, and now calmer, what are we to do?

Infected nursery stock has been grubbed up and burnt, smart phone apps have been developed to help the wider public to identify the symptoms of the disease,[which are lesions in the bark and necrosis of the leaves, that’s dead bits at their tips] and the washing of dogs and small children.  Investigative activity will help track the infection as all good disease control should and in time understanding of the lifecycle of the fungus will help in prevention. It may in time prove that natural checks will limit the spread and the disease will just become another problem faced by our largest common living organisms, trees.

All trees are susceptible to disease, virus, insect attack, climatic change, atmospheric pollution, soil contamination, road salt spray, cat urine, and of course fungal attack to list but a few. Trees such as the oak can be virtually defoliated by moth larvae in the early summer, reducing photosynthetic resources, but the late summer Lammas growth occurs outside the lifecycle of the caterpillar and so the oak persists. As someone said today maybe the ash will decline in the ancient woodlands but the woodlands will remain. The most common tree in pre-history was the elm, the pollen record has shown that for reasons unknown this tree went into rapid decline about 5,500 years ago. The most recent cycles of Dutch elm disease have merely been attacking the remnants of a previously deep cloaking cover of elm. Later still, about 5100 years ago, the small leaved Lime went into decline, though it is felt this was attributable to pressure from early man and the palatability of the leaves and seedlings.

It is tempting to react to this crisis by planting lots of new trees, disease resistant, local provenance and in their millions. It is useful to reflect that In the aftermath of the 1987 storm, that smashed its way wilfully across the southern counties, a network of Tree wardens marshalled tree planting projects to ‘restore’ the woodlands. In the decade following the tree planting schemes had been overshadowed and suppressed by powerful natural regeneration that had been ignited by the sun reaching through the gale wrenched holes in the woodland canopy. The easiest way to secure the future of our woodlands regardless of their individual species make-up is to fiercely protect the woodlands we have already and for the new; simply enclose an open field, stop cutting and grazing, and nurture what nature delivers. Of course, I will also plant a tree or two to help nature on her way and fortunately Christmas is also the best time of year to do so!

Festive greetings,  Pete.