Wildlife - with Jane Adams

WILDLIFE

By our new wildlife guest columnist, Jane

Adams - Naturalist. bTB Badger Vaccinator.

Nature writer.

Photographer. Bee

Watcher.

Experience a different walk

What would happen if we stopped watching wildlife and sensed it in other ways? In this month’s nature column, Jane Adams goes on a sensory walk at dusk.

What smells and sounds did you notice the last time you went for a walk? Did you make a point of touching a leaf or paying attention to the breeze on your face? It’s amazing how easy it is to let your sense of sight dominate the way you perceive nature. I often find myself describing an interesting plant or bird I’ve seen to my husband, but can’t for the life of me remember when I last told him about a scent or texture. So, this month I’m on a mission (you’re welcome to join me). I’m going to take more notice of my other senses, and to help me I’ve started walking in the nearby woods at dusk.

Spangle galls

There’s no getting away from it, walking in the woods after sunset can feel a bit spooky. It took me a while to calm my nerves, tune in to the scuttling and scrabbling of the unseen wood mice, and not jump out of my skin when a tawny owl screeched overhead. But the more I do it, the more I love it. The other evening I sat under a favourite oak and, having scooped up a handful of fallen leaves, I started to run my fingers over their surface. Some crumbled, but others were covered in circular lumps about the size of a small flat pea. This oakleaf braille was spangle galls; knobbly hard protection for eggs laid earlier in the year by tiny wasps that develop into larva inside the galls, falling to the ground with the leaves in autumn. The larvae continue to develop through the winter, and emerge as adults in the spring. Later, the scent of a fox that must have passed by just minutes before stopped me in my tracks. Breathing in its heady musk, I could imagine the animal’s steady gaze and alert ears, its russet coat and thick bushy brush. I’m not suggesting an evening walk is right, or even possible, for everyone, but even if it isn’t, give your eyes a rest and think about appreciating nature with your less used, but nonetheless important, senses.

“I coulde never learne an Englishe name for it. The Duche men call it in Netherlande, spilboome, that is, spindel tree, because they use to make spindels of it in that countrey, and me thynke it maye be so well named in English seying we have no other name. … I know no good propertie that this tree hath, saving only it is good to make spindels and brid of cages ” [bird cages]. William Turner’s ‘Newe Herball’, 1551

Dorset’s winter hedgerows

If you’re taking a stroll through the country lanes of the Blackmore Vale this winter, here are just a few of the hedgerow plant species you might spot. Hedgerows provide an often diverse range of trees and shrubs, making them a thriving habitat for all sorts of wildlife. At this time of year, berries are particularly tempting to birds, but not all berries are safe for them (or humans) to eat.

Hawthorn

Hawthorn (Crataegus monogyny) is one of the staple shrubs found in our autumn and winter hedgerows, producing deep red fruits resembling very small apples, called ‘haws’. These fruits are enjoyed by many birds including hawfinches, thrushes, fieldfares and redwings, as well as a range of small mammals. Waxwings will also enjoy any haws that are left on the tree in December or January. Common hawthorn is also a rich habitat for all kinds of wildlife beyond birds, from hawthorn shield

Culpepper the herbalist said “briony” were “furiously martial plants”, imbued with the warlike spirit of orange twinkling Mars in the night sky Thomas the Rhymer, the thirteenth century Scottish mystic and poet met the Faery Queen by a hawthorn from which a cuckoo was calling. She led him into the Faery Underworld for a brief sojourn. Upon reemerging into the world of mortals he found he had been absent for seven years.

bugs, to wood mice and slow worms that shelter in the thorny thickets.

Spindle

One of the most striking, vibrant berries you can spot in early winter can be found on this small hedgerow and woodland tree. The berries that appear on spindle (Euonymus europaeus) are bright pink with bright orange seeds inside; they may look exotic, but this is a native plant in Britain. The berries are toxic to humans, but enjoyed by a range of wildlife including mice, foxes and birds such as house sparrows. Spindle is an ancient woodland indicator; its presence in woodland settings may mean you are in a particularly special habitat. Ancient woodlands are woods that have continuously been on the same site since 1600 or before, creating a specific ecosystem with a host of plants and animals. One such woodland can be found at Hibbitts Woods, a Dorset Wildlife Trust nature reserve near Yeovil.

Black Bryony

Take a look at an autumn or winter hedgerow and you might see stems of bright red berries climbing up the trees and shrubs. This may well be black bryony (Tamus communis), our only native member of the yam family. Despite this, it is a poisonous plant. Its leaves are glossy and heart-shaped, and in summer it flowers with yellowgreen, six-petalled blooms. Despite their names and similar hedgerow climbing habits, white bryony (Bryonia dioica) is not a relative of black bryony. The poisonous berries are not of much value to wildlife, though the summer flowers are visited by pollinators.