One Swallow Doesn’t Make a Summer

They say that one Swallow doesn’t make a summer, in that case I assume a small flock does. Well in that case I hope that this isn’t summer, for there I was this evening, standing on the old Tweed Bridge over the River Tweed, in the rain, with a temperature of around 4^oC and there was a flock of Swallows swooping and feeding over the River Tweed. In some ways its a brilliant sight as these were the first of the year, but also I hope that this is not how the summer is going to be.

Looking west along the River Tweed, from the Old Tweed Bridge – 26 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)

Monuments and Mausoleums

Went out yesterday to avoid the showers, and found as a result, the weather for some perfect views across the Scottish Borders.

The first stop of the afternoon was the Thompson’s Monument, situated to the north of Kelso, at Ferneyhill. The Thompson’s Monument is not on a high hill, in fact its not really much more than a pimple, but when the surroundings are generally lower, then the fields are set out like a patchwork below. In this part of the Scottish Borders, especially when looking northwards, the views remind me of the old fashioned crochet blanket (like one that your granny would have made). In this case, one that is made up of crochet squares of various greens and browns, highlighted by the occasional bright yellow square and knitted together by the scraggy green lines of hedges. Within this area, the image of a blanket is occasionally disrupted by the presence of a number of rounded hills and rocky outcrops, such as Hume Crags, Queenscairn and Sweethope Hill.

Looking northwards across the patchwork of fields to Hume Crags, Queenscairn and Sweethope Hill – 22 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)

Turning round to face south-westwards, where the ground is generally more rolling and higher, the patchwork effect of the surrounding fields are hidden from view. From this direction the hills approach the Thompson Monument like waves approaching a beach. The horizon though, is not all rounded and settled, but disrupted by the occasional distinctive feature, such as the Waterloo Monument, on Peniel Heugh, which intrudes into this roundedness, like a pin stitching out of a pillow.

Looking south-westwards from the Thompson’s Monument to the Waterloo Monument, Peniel Heugh – 22 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)

Our next stop was across this sea of hills, at the Monteath Mausoleum, from here the the Waterloo Monument is closer and clearer as the light has changed, and the hills from this side are distinctive and clear. While the horizon is lost in a haze, which hides the patchwork of fields seen earlier, but from the certain positions the Thompson Monument can just be seen glinting in a ray of stray sunshine, that has escaped from behind a cloud. From this direction the whole character of the landscape feels totally different. No more rolling waves, just a growing set of pimples, pushing its head out from the blocks of trees that cloths the growing slopes.

Looking eastwards from the Monteath Mausoleum to the Waterloo Monument, Peniel Heugh – 22 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)

Bumble Bees and Thunder Storms

I was hiding in the shed this afternoon, between the passing showers, doing some potting, when my attention was distracted away from the task at hand, by an insistent buzzing. This came from a rather perturbed Bumble Bee that was trying to enter the shed, but of course, I was standing in the way. The Bumble Bee was looking for a way past me and into the back of the shed, where amongst the junk they nest, probably somewhere under the old boiler. In fact over the course of the afternoon, there were a number of Bumble Bees that wanted into our shed, but less of them came out then went in, and I wondered if there was another way out.

Now, I have to say that Bumble Bees are amazing creatures, for even though they are fairly small, their wings are amazingly powerful. While watching these creatures as they came and went during the afternoon, I noticed that their wings had enough power to move the scattering of compost that littered the ground, while they flew a couple of inches above it. In fact by comparison, they seem to have the same effect as the blades of a helicopter do on the vegetation underneath, as they come into land.

My pondering, on the wonders of Bumble Bees was rudely interrupted towards the end of the afternoon by a sudden, very bright flash of lightning, accompanied almost simultaneously by an exceptionally loud and explosive clap of thunder. Loud enough to make me jump and loose a few years in the process. It felt almost as if the event had occurred just overhead. In fact it was loud enough to disturb the crows from the trees behind the house, sending them into the air in a single body, as well as sending the sheep, in the field opposite, scattering in disarray.

Leading up to this very explosive strike, we had previously had a single loud, but not explosive roll of thunder some minutes before. There must have been a flash of lightning as well, but this went unnoticed as the sky was still quite light. By the time of the second strike, the sky had turned almost black, as though full of water, and the cloud was going to burst and letting loose a deluge, with the crack of thunder the ripping of the fabric that held back the deluge. However, the deluge did not develop, and the rain passed over, depositing as it went, just a few lonely drops.

What a Difference a Day Makes?!

What a difference a day makes!? Yesterday I was out in brilliant sunshine, it was sheltered and warm. Today it was like winter was attempting to return, though the sun shone on and off, it was also blowing a gale and it also decided to hail – horizontally!!! You can guess which I preferred, especially as some of the hail stones were the size of large peas and stung! Rule – don’t walk into the wind when in a hail storm!

 Another day and another raised bog, this time Dogden Moss, and definitely considerably wilder, as it is situated in a hollow on Greenlaw Moor, and confined by the snaking form of the Bedshiel Kaims to the north. Like all good bogs it is rich in Sphagnum, which against the blue of the sky, produces bright green splashes of colour, against the drabber winter browns.

Looking East Along the Edge of Dogden Moss, Greenlaw Moor and Bedshiel Kaims – 17 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)

Today’s weather was raw and still in the throws of winter. Earlier there had also been snow and sleet showers, as well as the hail shower that had been witnessed, but, still the wildlife was making the most of the brighter sunny periods. On the drive onto the site, there had been the treat of a view of a pair Hares disappearing off into a nearby field. On the site itself, there was the accompanying haunting calls of a Curlew, the light continual trilling of Skylarks, and a single Lapwing displaying to a partner hidden amongst the tussocks. Then on the return journey, a pair of what seemed absolutely huge, Buzzards, were seen to alight in the top of a nearby tree, oblivious to the passing traffic.

Snake in the Grass

Went to a strip of fields that I have always known as the Lightfield Strip today, which are close to Gordon. They are a wonderful strip of fields that vary in wetness, from those that are barely damp meadows, through the whole scale of wetness to the far extreme where there are patches of bog vegetation, rich in Sphagnum mosses. For the most part, following various abortive attempts at improvement, they have been left to there own devices. As a result, though changed they are a wonderful haven, within a highly agricultural area, and due to a number of Birch shelter belts they are so kept warm and sheltered. This does though have its disadvantages, as some are now suffering from encroachment from new areas of scrub.

Wet Meadows, Lightfield Strip – 16 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

At this time of year, spring has hardly started here, many species remain just the way they were when the winter frosts killed off lasts years growth. However, though the over tone remains mainly brown, under the remaining litter and purple brown of patches of Heather, there is a wonderful rich green carpet of Sphagnum mosses, ranging from a very light almost whitish green colour, through to the rich olive greens and in places patches of a glorious rich claret colour. It’s a pity that at this stage I didn’t have time to stop and work on identifying the species, my moss identification has suffered from lack of use.

Bog and Birch Scrub, Lightfield Strip – 16 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

Above the Sphagnum there were also clumps of Hare’s-tail Cotton-grass, producing distinctive tussocks, that were just showing a touch of new colour. At this time of the season, growth of the new shoots is just beginning, as the plants are putting most of their effort into flowering. By now the heads have passed the yellow stage, when they are covered with anthers, but have yet to reach the classical white seed head of the hare’s tail. At present they are fairly grey, almost like a hairy cigars, and the bog lacks the typical scene of wavy white heads, but they are still visible within the tussocks.

As for snakes in the grass – well while wandering, there came the best sight of the day, which was when my accomplice shouted, and there disappearing into the Heather, was the tail-end of an Adder that had been happily sunbathing in the morning warmth before being almost stepped upon.

Spring Comes To Those That Wait

Went to Whitlaw Woods, on the southern edge of Hawick yesterday, a mixed ancient and secondary woodland, situated on the steep southern bank of the Slitrig Water, that occasionally slides down to meet the river. You can read more about the site here – http://gateway.snh.gov.uk/sitelink/siteinfo.jsp?pa_code=1117

Its amazing how quickly spring moves on, when I was at this site back in February, there was frost on the ground, and nothing on the plant front had moved. All was still tightly tucked away against the cold of winter. Now a couple of months later and life had returned, in fact it almost feels like another world. Instead of bare ground there is green growth everywhere, carpets of both Ransoms and Dog’s Mercury, produced dense areas of colour. These patches were accompanied by the delicate white flowers of both the Wood Anemone and Wood Sorrel, and the occasional patch of pale yellow Primrose.

With careful searching one of my favourite plants was also easy to find, the delicate cubic pale green inflorescence of Moschatel, with single flowers on each of the four sides of a cubic head, and a fifth forming the top side, and each with delicate yellow anthers. This plant is well named in some parts of the country, where it is called the “Townhall Clock”. In Cheshire it was also once called the “Five-faced Bishop” after a church dignitary who continual changed his mind.

Then above the trees were also rapidly moving towards producing a canopy, Wych Elms and Hawthorns were already covered in a scattering of leaves. The Hazels had already had their catkins and dropped the brown remains, while Blackthorns, produced drifts of white flowers, and the occasional Willow had fluffy catkins heavy with yellow pollen.

 Oh yes – Bring on the spring!

Whitlaw Woods – 12 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

Sunshine and Showers

Oh, what to write about from yesterday, several amazing sights, from rainstorms to rainbows and then an exceptionally good view of a Buzzard.

 We went south again yesterday and ended up just above Langholm, where we walked up Whita Hill to the Memorial to Major General Sir John Malcolm, a stark granite obelisk sat on a prominent point above the town. From here there were amazing views out across the surrounding countryside, from the Solway coast in the south west, to Muckle Knowe, Broad Head and Hog Fell in the north and Burrowstown Moss, Tinnis Hill and the Haunches in the east. Wow! From the top of Whita Hill the surroundings were laid out like carpet. The surroundings where a patchwork of greens and browns. Down in the valleys the greens where rich and clean from improved grassland, then up on the moors, they went from a rich yellow green, where the bryophyte carpet was at its thickest and outshines the remaining dead grass, through the olives of rush pasture to those areas that are almost a white beige, where areas of white moor dominate and finally to the rich purple browns of Heather patches.

Tinnis Hill and Burrowstown Moss, from Whita Hill – 11 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

 The top of Whita Hill was also a good place to watch the surrounding weather patterns. Turning the full 360^o, the whole range of weather could be seen from sunshine and blue skies over Tinnis Hill to dark black storms, which seemed almost to reach out of the sky and down to the ground, looking almost like intergalactic Jellyfish. Then turning again there was also an obvious body of mist heading toward the hilltop, with its own package of rain to deliver. With the change of weather came a change of mood – sunshine and the moors are a place of wildness, but come the dark grey clouds they become places of wild brooding.

Storms over the Solway, from Whita Hill – 11 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

Later our back to the Borders, took us over via Eskdalemuir, where on the way the weather scenario was completed with the sight of an amazing rainbow. It began from the edge of one forest and disappeared into the depths of another. For the whole of its arc, the rainbow shone brightly against the very black clouds, that looked even angrier than normal because of the sunshine. From some angles the rainbow was then reflected again to make a double rainbow, which unfortunately does not show in the photo.

 

Rainbow – 11 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

The other view on this trip homeward, was that of an amazing brilliant view of a Buzzard. The light was just so right, that this bird, who sat on top of a power pole, just seemed to shine in its own spot light, especially its bright yellow legs. Wow! Just so taken with the view that he flew off before the evidence could be got.

Blackthorn Winter

Deciding to make a break for it between the wintry showers of yesterday, we went for drive up the Yarrow valley, heading towards St Mary’s Loch and eventually up to the Megget and Talla Reservoirs. Yesterday it was like travelling back in time as we passed from spring back into winter. In the lower reaches of the valley, nearer Selkirk, the banks of the Yarrow Water were moving rapidly onwards with spring. The trees were all moving towards leaf, with the buds swelling, some had even burst to form masses of tiny leaves. Amongst which the Wild Cherry’s were showing the occasional pinky white bloom, and the Ash buds had swollen and broken to form a mass of closely packed purple anthers. While underneath the canopy, the Blackthorns were a mass of white blooms, forming what could almost be snow drifts along the banks.

Blackthorn Blossoms – Yarrow – 10 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)

 As we headed up stream the development of spring begins to lag behind, the trees had not burst into leaf, their buds were hardly swollen and only the occasional Blackthorn flower could be seen. At this stage the Blackthorn flowers had only developed as far as forming large white buds, and were awaiting a few more hours of sunshine before bursting out. Above, the hills open out and remain in their winter dormancy, a mix of browns and greens, formed from the mosaic of grass and close cropped Heather, occasionally broken up by dark bluey green from patches of conifers. Here the main signs of spring are highlighted only by the large yellow patches of flowering Gorse, across the valley bottom, amongst the remaining browns and greens of last years grass.

Craig Douglas Burn – 10 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)

Above St Mary’s Loch and on towards the reservoirs of Megget and Talla, winter still firmly griped the hills, as they were sprinkled with a recent fall of snow. But this whiteness of the new snow, brings a kind of warm to the newly flushed growth of bryophytes, that push through the dead remains of last years grass, warming at least the closest views with a rich golden green tinge, against the browns above.

Nickies Knowe – 10 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)

 As to Blackthorn Winter – as Blackthorns often flower in March, well at least further south in England, during periods of cold easterly winds, a cold spring was often called a Blackthorn Winter.

Strange Mallard Visitor

As is a common morning activity when I’m in the house, I sit drinking tea and watching the passing antics of the birds at the bird table. As usual there were half dozen or so House Sparrows buzzing about, one moment buzzing off and the next moment flooding back with a mass of chirps. At this time of year, when the hedge next to the bird table still only has a light covering of leaves, coating the tips of the branches, the Sparrows that dive into the hedge do not disappear from sight and you can see them hustling for priority in the hedge, until the bravest feels that its safe to dive for the bird feeder again, rapidly followed by the rest. Today, a single male Sparrow, looking exceptionally fine in bright, clean plumage and fluffed up to make himself look twice his original size, made for a perch at the end of the hedge to sing his little heart out. Accompanying the House Sparrows were a couple cheeky Blue Tits that are easily hassled off the feeder when the Sparrows come back to feed and a every so often there would also appear a male Chaffinch, also in clean prime colours. Then under the feeders scurrying amongst the pots that litter the ground is a Dunnock picking up the bits and pieces of nut thrown out by the main feeders.

 While I was watching the normal everyday activity of the House Sparrows and their companions, I looked across to the gate, where there suddenly appeared a Mallard. He squeezed under the struts, wandered up the garden path and stood in front of the door surveying the scene for a few minutes, before heading back to the gate and out of the garden. Now that’s not a scene that has been seen before in our garden, as it doesn’t have a pond and the nearest pond is probably a quarter of a mile away. Later I saw him hanging round the car park and realised that he had in fact been seduced by a couple of white Farm Ducks that had made a break for freedom.

 

Escaping Mallard Visitor – 07 April 2012 (Copyright – Ross Lockley 2012)

Bouncy, Bouncy, …..!

Oh what a change, less then a week ago the temperatures were up in the twenties, now we’re back in winter with snow lying in patches on the ground and a bitter wind blowing. However, nothing should stop the lost naturalist, weather included, especially when there are adventures to be had!

You know there are times you don’t go to a site for months on end. Then you’re there on what seems like every other day. Yep, back once again at Murder Moss and what a difference a few days and a change in the weather makes. Today it was grey, stormy and moody. Great!

Murder Moss – 04 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)

Spent some time at the retting pools. Retting is the process by which the fibres of the flax plants were softened to allow them to be spun. Back in the 1970’s these pools where large open areas of water. Since then succession has moved on and now they are amazing quaking areas of fen, sometimes called “Schwingmoor” – rafts of floating vegetation over deeper areas of water. They are amazing! They move and bounce somewhat alarmingly when the stepped on, making the surroundings also move and bounce as well. Its like seeing waves move across what should be solid land, but definitely isn’t. I wonder whether this is what an earthquake look like when it occurs? However, here on Murder Moss they are now vegetated with sedges, reeds and the largest is a carpet of Bog Bean, but still they don’t quite disappear into the rest of the fen.

Retting Pool, Murder Moss – 04 April 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones 2012)