Mysterious Seas

This is the twelfth blog from my time in North Wales, dating from the 18 July 2013.

Sitting writing this final entry to my summer holiday blogs with autumn now upon on us, with mornings that now have a decided chill to them, and trees showing distinctive signs of yellowing, it is hard to imagine that in mid July it was necessary to head up into the hills to escape the heat of the day, as the sun would beat down with unforgiving relentlessness.

For this final day we took to the hills to the west of Bala to escape the unrelenting heat and found this spot where the views across to Rhinogs were amazing. Stopping close to the top of a ridge and looking out across the valley, the Rhinogs stood silhouetted, broodingly dark against the brightness of the summer blue sky.

The Rhinogs – 18 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

In front of this dark and brooding scene, there seemed to be a sea of green that lapped against the dark wall of the mountains, seeming to swell and writhe in the breeze that blew. This feeling of movement was accentuated by the waving heads of the browning grass inflorescences that moved like large shoals of tiny fish, dashing first one way and then the next. Over this there moved the dark scudding shadows, produced by fluffy white cumulus clouds that were moving rapidly across the scene, like the hunting of large predatory fish lining up their dinner. On this swelling sea of green, a developing woodland seems to float free, with each element moving as an individual, at the will of the current and the wind, like paper boats being tossed head long down a mountain stream.

Closer to, the rich browns of this sea are made up by a multitude of grass heads from the rich metallic heads of Wavy Hair-grass that rippled with every breath of air, mixed with the loosely cigar shaped heads of Yorkshire Fog, which as the seeds were ripening had taken on a delicate brown hue. Out from amongst these various shades of brown there appeared amazing bright purple carpets, formed from the flowering shoots of young Bell Heather, regenerating amongst the grasses.

Carpets of Bell Heather – 18 July 2013 (Copyright Ross Lockley)

All this I thought I was observing harmlessly from a mountain road, within a felled forestry plantation that was beginning to regenerate into new woodland, and into which I wandered to look at various odds and sods. That was until we moved further along and came across a notice that announced for the area we were just leaving, “Keep to the road – Danger – Explosives”. Oh! You don’t see that every day!!

Glimpses

This is the ninth blog from my time in North Wales, dating from the 16 July 2013.

Took to the train for the day, as train journeys are a wonderful way to grab a flavour of the surroundings and be intrigued, especially so when on a heritage line as the speed is limited to a genteel rate. The journey on this day was from the industrial town of Blaenau Ffestiniog down to the coastal port at Porthmadog, following the route that the products of the industrial town would have taken to the local port, but I’m sure the landscape will have been been much changed and tamed since it was used by the Victorians.

Leaving the industrial town of Blaenau Ffestiniog, passing on the way a Victorian stretch of ribbon development which follows the railway out of town that has not been enlarged on this side of town in modern times. The landscape here is rocky and rugged, and the train picks a smooth gradient between the rocky outcrops, running at one stage along the edge of the Tanygrisiau Reservoir, which nestles between a number of these outcrops. Along the far edge we catch sight of the original rail route, now sunk below the surface of the water flooded out, when the reservoir was built.

Tanygrisiau Reservoir – 16 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

On through rough pastures with tantalising glimpses of the surrounding hills and mountains as the train moves forward, circling round the Dduallt spiral, like the Buzzard that circles over head as we passed by. Onwards – only stopping for the odd station to allow passengers to disembark or alight. The journey passes onwards moving from the rough pasture, through scattered trees and shrubs and on into a more wooded landscape, in an area known as Coed y Bleddiau, or Wood of the Wolves. Sadly there are no Wolves in these woods any long, there are supposed to be a couple of Willow sculptures depicting Wolves along this stretch, but unfortunately the continuous moving onwards of the train meant that I failed to spot these creatures, but then that is one of the tantalising things about train journeys – a little only, to tempt and tease, before the next scene is upon us.

Dduallt Spiral – 16 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Passing through the short Garnedd Tunnel and out into a more densely wooded landscape where amongst the banks of Larches and other conifers there stands tall and proud ancient Sessile Oak trees lonely remnants of the once primeval woodlands that would have covered these slopes. By now the downward run to the coast is well on the way and we pass out of the wooded landscape and on to the drop down through a number of smaller villages on the way to the coast.

The final stretch into Porthmadog is across the causeway known as the Cob, which was built originally as part of an Enclosure scheme at the beginning of the 19th century. The building of the Cob, has resulted in the formation of Glaslyn marshes, which now at low tide is full of birds wandering across the exposed mud flats. Even at the genteel rate of our train it is too fast to see very much apart from the mass of Canadian Geese gosling’s gathered in the closest bit of water. To be honest though these took second place to the view beyond the marshes, even in the heat haze which fogs the scene slightly, this is an amazing view of the complete panorama of the Snowdonia mountains, including the iconic Snowdon.

The Snowdonia Mountains – 16 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Splashes of Light

The Lost Naturalist has taken her summer hols this year to the remote, at least in terms of internet access, portion of the world, in the form of North Wales. Before any Welsh readers complain, its lost from the internet if you’re staying some miles from the nearest village up a remote valley! There then follows a number of blogs charting just a few adventures from this holiday dating from between the 06 and 20 July 2013, appearing as I get my head together.

The first of these follows and begins with the 07 July, on a hot and sunny day.

On a hot sunny day, when temperatures were racing rapidly upwards, the wonders of an upland stream has a special call, especially one that is wooded and on this hot day we found a wonderful one up Cwm Bychan, where the Afon Artro flowed, cooling and wonderful. The area surrounding the stream had trees that seem to climb straight up towards the sky. From each straight trunk, there emerged a tangle of branches, seemingly in every direction to produce a dense tangled mess, that are then covered with masses of leaves to produce a wonderful dappled shade.

Afon Artro, Cwm Bychan – 07 July 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The nature of shade produced by leaves means that every so often a ray of sunshine escapes through the green barrier and scatters to the ground below. On the lush under storey this splash of sunlight was like a spot light, highlighting the various shades of green and in the brightness almost obliterating the greens to white. Where this spotlight hit the surface of the water it exploded outwards, as though showering a mass of diamonds every which way, to shine for just a moment more. As for the heat, this splash of diamonds were like an invitation to cool the feet in that tumbling water!

Scars of Times Past

This is the second of three blog entries from last weekend – taken from Saturday 27 October 2012.

Being in a landscape that has been shaped by the work of ancient glaciers is amazing especially in autumn, when the sun is shining and very low in the sky, so that all the hummocks and hollows are accentuated. The Yorkshire Dales is the perfect place for this and last Saturday was also the perfect time, as the skies were clear, the was sun shining and the autumn colours were amazingly bright and warm, even if the temperature wasn’t.

The landscape around the Yorkshire Dales have been scraped and furrowed by the passing glaciers of the last ice age, around 300 million years ago, producing towering crags, shadowy peaks, limestone pavements and deep valleys. One of my favourite places to see the grating effects of the passing glaciers is at Yew Cogar Scar, where even when the light isn’t quite perfect, long scrape lines can be seen highlighted in the early afternoon shadows and grey patches of bare limestone rock. I’m never sure whether its the geology of this place that fascinates me or the remnant of the hanging Yew wood that clings precariously to the edges of the scar, away from the continuous nibbling of the local sheep. Those remaining Yew trees, make the occasional dark green blob, still fresh against the browning greens of the dying grasses.

Yew Cogar Scar – 27 October 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Another, definately more impressive view is that of Pen-y-Ghent, sometimes known as the Sleeping Lion. Here unlike Yew Cogar Scar where the scar lines run along the valley. At Pen-y-Ghent the errosion lines run down the mountain. These erosion shadows highlight the layers of different rock types, and so throw new shadows outwards. Then to complete the contrasts of the mountain come a warm orange foreground of Purple Moor-grass, accompanied by the varying autumn greens of the surrounding grass moor.

Pen-y-Ghent – 27 October 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

When is a Loch, not a Loch?

Had one of those OK moments, when I wonder what on earth am I doing? – At that moment on Monday morning, I was standing dripping with sweat, with water lapping around and into the top of my wellies, and being feasted on by a large variety of biting insects!

As to what was I doing – I was standing in the middle of Lurgie Loch. Only in general terms Lurgie Loch is no longer a loch, having long since lost any open water, and had been filled with vegetation and is now covered with scrub. Only because of this years very wet summer, the site was also covered with water of varying depths, hence the water in the wellies, and as the sun was shining for once, the high levels of humidity and so the sweat.

You really do know that the place is wet, when even the slugs take to the trees! This formed one of the days more odd ball sights of the day, as I kept finding those very large black slugs, part way up the trunks of the trees, grazing on the various patches of lichen that were growing on the trunks. They also made a slightly yucky hazard as well, for if you weren’t careful, and disturbed the trees too much, they would drop off and land on your head!!

Lurgie Loch – 13 August 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Lurgie Loch is another one of those amazing valley fens. This one has a lagg of Willows, with the centre covered with Birch of varying ages, and in one small drier area some one had planted Scots Pine at one stage. These though now, semi mature, are not currently spreading as the site is still rather wet. Underneath the ground flora varies from Sedges in the wetter areas to carpets of Purple Moor-grass in the drier areas, that until recently had formed more open glades and would make good flight areas for Scotch Argus. Too wet this summer though, for anything other than biting insects to flourish.

Siklawica – If you Can!

Almost the last of the missing blogs now – this one dates from the Sunday 22 July – Enjoy!

With so much water on the scene, one of the few things we had failed to see so far were any waterfalls, as a result our last walk in the Tatra Mountains was to a small one of these. So an even simpler route today – straight up the Strażyska Dolinia pass the mountain hut and onto Siklawica, a simple water spout. Not much after the great master pieces of Iceland.

The walk, like many of our previous ones, passes out from the edge of town and up a woodland path along the edge of the Strażyska Dolina, a small bubbling mountain river, that rumbles down this split in the hillside between rock walls that move in and out from the river but for the greater length were never that far away. The surrounding slopes though, are well hidden with the spread of the woodland, Spruces, mixed with various broad-leaves such as Rowan and Beech, coat the slopes. This spread of trees makes it is almost impossible to see the five sharp dolomite rocks, that stick up above the ridge and form structures known as the “Chimneys”, by now you just get the occasional hint of there presence amongst the trees. As for the ground flora, mainly the leaves of a Butterbur blanket the areas close to the path, but occasionally a number of what looked like Fragrant Orchids (Gymnadenia conopsea) and a very dark red coloured Dark Red Helleborine (Epipactis atrorubens) peaked out, accompanying the many yellow spikes of the Yellow Broomrape (Orobanche flava) that were growing on the Butterbur.

Strażyska Dolina with Giewont Lost in the Mist – 22 July 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The walk up the Strażyska Dolina leads to the open meadow around the mountain hut, from where views of Giewont should be visible, had the mountain not be lost in the low cloud, and from where we are rapidly surrounded by trees again for the final short climb up to Siklawica.

Siklawica is a two stage waterfalls that drops a total distance of about 23m, in two stages 10m in the first and 13m in the second and from a distance looks like a single simple spout of water pouring down the north face of Giewont. Strangest of all though is how this simple spout or chute of water falls down a moss cushion that runs the complete length of the rock face, but is never more than a metre or two wide, with the water mainly confined in the centre of the moss strip. Careful examination of the rock face does reveal water running down much of the rest of the expanse, so one wonders why the moss is not more expansive?

Siklawica – 22 July 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The Hole

Having been far too busy having fun to keep up with the blog – this entry dates from Wednesday 18 July – Enjoy! There will be more to follow.

Having struggled with up and down dale the previous day, Wednesday saw us take an easier route up the Dolina Ku Dziurze to the cave, Jaskinia Dziura, which appropriately seems to translate from the Polish as “The Hole”.

The walk up to the cave is up through the gentle lower slopes of the lower Tatra, beginning with the improved pastures above Zakopane and finally from the boundary of the National Park, into a steep sided, wooded, limestone valley that eventually feeds with water from Sarnia Skała way above. Leaving the openness and passing rapidly into the enclosed mixed wooded slopes, covered in both Beech and Spruce. The slopes on either side, soon climbed high enough to leave only a narrow enclosed valley, from which little light reached the bottom and where the ground flora is thickest along the route of the path and the stream.

 

Dolina Ku Dziurze – 18 July 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

As with all good limestone streams, the Dolina Ku Dziurze is one of those streams that come and go. There one moment and lost within a limestone fissure the next, to reappear again just a few metres further on.

Where there is light, the vegetation is generally calcareous in nature, with my favourites of the area appearing in suitable numbers, in the form of the larger Greater Masterwort (Astrantia major), with its Geranium like leaves and white flowers tinged with pink and Sanicle (Sanicula europaea) with its tiny puff balls of white blooms.

Greater Masterwort (Astrantia major) – 18 July 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Finally Jaskinia Dziura is perfectly described by its translation of the “Hole” for it is that. An arc at the bottom of a cliff, that is some seven feet tall at its greatest and leads back into the hillside which can be exploded with a torch for a number of metres. Above which the rock rises grey and fissured from which a number of small trees hang on and slowly grow upwards, forcing apart the fissures.

 

Jaskinia Dziura or “The Hole” – 18 July 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Primeval

Now was that Dr Livingston I saw moving through the trees? Or was that splash the creature from the Black Lagoon? I thought as I turned slowly round. At that point I was unable to see more than a few yards in any direction, as I was standing in the middle of the Birch and Willow woodland that forms the greater part of Gordon Moss and let my imagination run wild for a few minutes.

Gordon Moss – 05 July 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

 So Thursday, I went to Gordon Moss, though really I think the place would better be called a wood, as Gordon Moss is the largest area of semi-natural woodland in Berwickshire and is now mainly woodland and scrub rather than open mire habitats. It is an amazing wet woodland, formed mostly of Birch and Willow, ranging from scrubby bushes up to tall trees, growing in a variety of wet and damp substrates from Sphagnum mosses to Bottle Sedge to open water and more or less solid ground, but never with the water table very far away. But then as it has it’s roots in various mire communities, both spring and rain fed, with lots of signs still being present in the background, maybe it should remain as Gordon Moss.

Thursday, on a dry and warm day, which following more days rain than should occur after a wet St Swithin’s Day, the place was wet and humid, not far off the feeling that a prehistoric primeval swamp woodland must have had. Especially when the sun shone, the humidity rose, and so did the activity of the insects, whose hum and buzz could be always be heard in the background and whose bite could also be felt at regular intervals. I might have been slightly pox ridden to by the time we left the place, if it was the steaming swamps of a primeval planet, luckily here the worst would be a mild case of what looked like measles spots from the midges.

While on the subject of primeval swamps, one of the most interesting parts of Gordon Moss has to be the Greater Tussock Sedges (Carex paniculata). This is a Sedge species that grows into sometimes sizeable tussocks, of over a metre in both height and width, though many are a lot smaller. From on top of this tussock of interlocking rhizomes, there forms a mass of long green blades and at the right time of year also include the brown flowering spikes. These plants have in the past been likened to a Dr Who monster, especially when they lurk along the edge of deeper water channels amongst the lower growing Willows.

Greater Tussock Sedge – 26 January 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

A Trip to the Woods

Managed to escape the Scottish Borders on Thursday and went for a high speed tour through some of the woodlands in East Lothian.

The route began with Binning Wood, the drier part of which has now been turned into a memorial site for green burials, but which is a long established plantation, originally planted in 1707 by the 6th Earl of Haddington. The original woodland stood for some 235 years before being felled in the 1940’s and then replanted with a variety of broad-leaves just after the war. Since then the main area has begun to develop a damp loving ground flora, varying within the plantation, depending on the substrate, but much of which seems to be dominated by tussocks of Tufted Hair-grass and the long shoots of Giant Fescue. Currently the long shoots of Giant Fescue are mainly visible as last years dead flowering stalks, with the new shoots just beginning to sprout again at the base and are tinged with a rich purple colour. Shame though about the spread of the Rhododendrons through the site.

Binning Wood – 03 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

Next it was to head southwards to Spott Mill, to a steep bank of Oak woodland, above Brock Burn. Here the woodland begins with a ground flora dominated by Dog’s Mercury at the bottom of the slope. As the slope is climbed the soil thins and becomes more acidic, as a result the ground flora becomes more grassy and heath-like in nature, with the smaller and finer Wavy Hair-grass tussocks become more predominant, along with patches of Bilberry. With less grazing there would have also been Heather in the sward. As it is the Heather has been grazed out and the Bilberry remains as a very low shrub but still managing to come into flower, with delicate pink lantern-like blooms.

Spott Mill Bank – 03 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

From Spott, it was to one of my favourite woods of the day, an area of ancient woodland just to the north of the village of Stenton, that runs along the banks of Sauchet Water. This is a wonderful area of Ash – Wych Elm woodland, where the ground flora is dominated by a carpet of Ramsons, with its strong garlic smell and puffs of white flowers that were just coming into bloom. Amongst which, there were also clumps of Woodruff, with it whorls of rich green leaves and the hint of the white flowers to come, as a single flower was open amongst a cluster of buds. Then there was the occasional Sanicle plant, which though part of the Carrot Family has distinctive puff balls of white flowers, which with a few days more sunshine would also be opening.

Ash – Wych Elm Woods near Stenton – 03 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

Continuing south from Stenton, next stop was at Pressmennan Wood, an ancient woodland that in parts had been planted with conifers, but still has large areas of Oak woodland, with a typical Bluebell ground flora. The Bluebells were just beginning to come into bloom, so there were only a scattering of blue spots, that had yet to make that fabulous blue carpet. While here I also walked down to Pressmennan Lake, one of only four water bodies in Scotland, that are called lakes, for an introduction to wet woods, where there is Willow scrub beginning to develop over the edge area of fen. Better though was the view up the lake where the water was surrounded by a variety of trees that were coming into leaf, and producing a yellow-green highlight to the scene.

Pressmennan Lake – 03 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

Finally the last woodland got rather wetter, as it was a stop at a truly wet woodland. Not exactly sure where I was at this point, other than somewhere in the depths of East Lothian. However, the Willow scrub was growing out of a fen habitat, in a scene that had an almost prehistoric feel with Water Horsetails poking their way out of the water, scattered amongst odd clumps of Marsh Marigold and tussocks of grass and sedge.

 

Fen Woodland – 03 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)