Here Today and Gone Tomorrow

This is the second blog from last weekend’s trip to the North Pennines.

Saturday had been bright and sunny and spring like but that was just to be a taster, by Sunday the clouds had thickened and sunk down towards the hills and the air held the promise of rain to come. In the course of a single night the North Pennines had gone from light and airy, with so much promise to dark and brooding, as though a storm was brewing in the distance, just waiting to burst upon the scene.

Heading towards Warcop, the moors behind were dark and menacing, highlighted only by the odd patch of snow remaining and showing no sign that spring was approaching. Now the occasional Dandelion flower along the road verge was a yellow beacon in the gloom, as the clouds swirled and moved above. The darkness of the hills behind seemed to make the green of the improved meadows close by seem bright and almost shine by comparison.

Warcop Fells – 21 April 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The gloom of the day seemed to put a dampener on the movement of life, for even the lambs in the surrounding fields failed to cavort, preferring to remain close to the shelter of mother. Not everything was hidden though, for above there soared a Buzzard, moving as if it was as light as a feather in the chilly breeze. Round and round the bird soared, not noticing the approaching weather or that spring had taken a break, just lost in search for the next meal!

Warcop Fells – 21 April 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Signs of Spring

This and the next blog date from my trip to the North Pennines last weekend, 20 and 21 April.

Saturday was a bright spring day where the sun had enough warmth to it when out of the wind, enabling me to sit on a bench and bake in the heat that was contained in the new rays. The wind though still had a strong winter chill to it, reminding me that winter hadn’t totally fled the scene yet. This reminder of winter was further enhanced by the patches of snow that were still around on the slopes of the nearby moors.

A Snow Patch at the County Boundary (around 590m asl) – 20 April 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Riding up the South Tyne valley behind the characteristic squeaks rattles and shakes of a narrow gauge engine, is a perfect way to appreciate the beautiful views of the surrounding hills as they roll up from the river to the fells behind. The hills are sculpted by the highlights and shadows formed from the splashes of sunshine. From the train track the land dropped gently down to the river through a number of wet, rushy meadows, that are still dominated by the various browns of winter. Rising up the hills opposite, the hillside is first delineated into neatly walled fields, still green but old and tired, showing no signs yet of the new growth to come. Interrupting the neat lines of the walls, are the skeletal outlines of trees still wrapped fast in the blanket of winter, occasionally highlighted with the dark green of a lone conifer or a square of planted conifers. Very rarely there is the odd sign of spring where a Willow is found covered in pale yellow catkins. Finally rising up the hillside to the wilder heights above, various shades of brown from areas of rough grass and Heather dominate the final stretches of hillside up to the bright blue skies.

Looking Across the South Tyne up to Ayle Common – 20 April 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Not all though is still wrapped tight in the blanket of winter, close to the line the odd spot of life can be seen. Poking out from amongst the tussocks of grass, still covered with the dead remains of last year’s growth there are spots of bright yellow in the form of Lesser Celandine flowers, shining like small stars in the spring sunlight. Accompanying these are the odd patches of much paler yellow Primrose flowers, raising their heads to proclaim the arrival of the warm sunshine. All of which promises the return of new life that begins to awake to the call of the warmth in the spring sunshine.

Rich with the Promise of New Life

Managed to take a wander along the River Tweed, at Gattonside on Thursday, and wow is all I can say!!! Finally a place that spring hasn’t forgotten! It might be some way behind, but finally the warmth of a few nice days has reminded the world that spring is actually coming and the place seems rich with the promise of new life.

The river bank is covered with the bright, shiny, spring-green leaves of the Few-flowered Leek, which when bruised by our passing, gave the air a wonderful garlicky smell. Amongst the leaves, the majority of flower buds still remain tightly closed, waiting for a touch more warmth, but just occasionally an odd white papery flower is found. In other places there were patches of the heart shaped leaves of the Lesser Celandine, again most of the flowers were just buds, but one or two had dared to open their bright yellow flowers to follow the sun. Shouting for all the world to see that spring comes to those that wait!

 

Purple Toothwort – 09 April 2013 (Copyright Ross Lockley)

With some careful searching around the base of a number of Willow trees, I found the prize of the afternoon, one tiny but amazing bloom of the Purple Toothwort. Even though not a native of the British flora (it was originally introduced from south-west Europe), I do love this small secretive plant. Its a small parasite that grows on the roots of Willows and Poplars, and can only be readily found when it flowers in the spring. For the rest of the time, as this plant does not photosynthesis and therefore does not need leaves, it’s lost beneath the ground. For all this explanation, I still feel that it reminds me of a miniature Trifid, with the hooded bloom and hairy anthers. Closer examination of the patch reveals a number of buds surrounding the single open flower, waiting for the weather to warm before opening, currently though they look a touch like the gaping mouths of some alien monster, ready to grab at a passing morsel, if it dares to approach too close!

 

Purple Toothwort – 09 April 2013 (Copyright Ross Lockley)