The Never Ending Song

More on changing seasons – this catch up is from the 05 September 2013.

As the long days of summer headed into the shorter days of autumn, Blackpool Moss has remained green and bright but now it is separated from the more scruffy surroundings  as a strip of hay has been taken from around the moss, making it look as though the site has been tied up with a neat browning ribbon. Even so the greens of the moss have begun to gain a yellowish tinge and the summer polka dot pattern of colours has now decreased to just the occasional spot, most noticeable of which were the mauve heads of the Devil’s-bit Scabious and the odd white Sneezewort head.

Blackpool Moss – 05 September 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The end of summer and the beginning of autumn is a strange time when the colourful beauties of summer have faded, but the wonders of autumn have yet to bloom, even so there are still sights to be seen. For me this day’s eye catching splendour comes in the form of the ever moving and richly coloured heads of the Common Reed. By September their inflorescences have a shine that is rich and luxurious purple in the day’s sunshine and by now they are also highlighted with the odd patch of white, formed as the seeds within the heads begin to ripen. In the breeze, that on Blackpool Moss blows almost continuously, the tall stalks sway backwards and forwards, as though pulled hither and thither by an invisible force, and this breeze makes the rich purples shimmer and shine, as the light catches the shine first from one angle and then another. On this day though, this continual movement made the heads an almost impossible feature to capture with any sort of satisfaction within a picture, as the movement was making it impossible to focus on all aspects and too much of the picture remained as a fuzzy mess. Still though the sight of this continual movement intrigued and fascinated, as the Reeds continued there strange dance to that never ending, but unheard song.

Creatures From the Moss

The next few blogs cover the catch up period of late summer and early autumn, between my return from North Wales and now in mid-autumn. This one dates from the 08 August.

Walking round the edge of Blackpool Moss, it was wonderful to see the bright new greens of the moss, after the browning, tiredness of the surrounding areas which are slowly being baked in the heat of the summer. Here on the moss, it’s as though the sprinklers have been turned on every day to supply a dose of water; as all the vegetation has a spring newness to its colour, just like the lawns in suburbia. Out of this brightness there sprouted a number of Wild Angelica plants with their white frothy umbels that are tinged very slightly with pink, standing out as sentinels in this sea of green. More statuesque though, was a tussock of Greater Tussock Sedge that poked out of the surrounding vegetation like a weird creature with some form of bottle brush hair style. Well named by a friend, who called them Dr Who monsters!!

Blackpool Moss – 08 August 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Surrounding this island of green, the grassland is browning and drying in preparation to be turned to hay, but amongst this brown there stands out a bright bank of purple, formed from a mass of Knapweed flowers. There were so many flowers that it was as if someone had taken a paint brush, dipped it in a paint pot and added a splash of colour across the grassland. This bank of flowers were also a great temptation to a mass of butterflies, the most I’ve seen this year in one place at anyone time. They were mainly Meadow Browns, flitting here and there, around the mass of flowers producing a mass of movement. Try as I might they did not settle for long enough to photo, all attempts at pictures where nothing more than a blur of movement, made worse by the gentle breeze that would set the heads of the Knapweed off in a swaying pattern all of their own.

Purple Edgings – 08 August 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Return to Murder Moss

This blog was written with the idea of illustrating it with a number of pictures from last Saturday’s visit to Murder Moss on one of the most beautiful days of this year so far. Having down loaded the pictures it was to discover that my small pocket camera, designed to capture the moment had decided to malfunction at a most inopportune moment!! As a result I’ve pondered for a while about whether to post this blog at all, as there are no good illustrations to go with it, but I hope that the writing stands on its own, without the addition of the pictures. Enjoy!

Finally managed to returned to Murder Moss after a break of over seven months. A place, which I’m sure you know by now is one of my favourites, on what turned out to be one of the best days of the spring so far. A day when the the sky was an amazing blue colour, spotted by fluffy white clouds that scudded quickly across. Luckily at ground level that wind wasn’t blowing and for once the place was still, almost balmy in the sunshine, though there was still a bitter nip in the background, just to remind me that winter refuses to totally let go its grip of the weather.

Even though it was now the end of May, the vegetation was still hovering back as it had been at the beginning of May last year. The new greens had still failed to take over from the faded dead remains of last years vegetation, and the Willows still only had a hint of a green to colour their bare twigs.

This new spring look was most obvious on the edge of an area of Reed, where the remainder of last years growth had produced tall white, almost ghost like stems. These stems seemed to form a sharp boundary line, behind which they floated like an ethereal reminder of the previous year, yet to be blown away by the rush of this springs new growth. In front of this boundary was a carpet of dark green formed from this years new growth of Meadowsweet, which had currently failed to produce anything more than a low cover of leaves. Even so the promise was there with new fresh clumps of bright yellow Marsh Marigold flowers, currently one of the few plants that had made it into flower this spring.

Warm Hues of Early Autumn Evenings

Went to Beanrig Moss late on Friday afternoon, and now that the end of September approaches, the place is beginning to change. The rich gorgeous greens of the summer have begun to fade to the yellows, oranges and reds of autumn. Some of the Willows, have turned to a wonderful yellow hue, while others had already lost their leaves in the first of the autumn storms and others still remain a now decidedly tatty green. Beneath the Reeds have that mix of autumn colours some green and others yellowing. This is then all contrasted with the Sphagnum below which remains a bright spring green, as though the new season has just arrived.

Beanrig Moss – 28 September 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Wandering in the early evening, as the sun had begun to drop lower in the sky, all the hummocks and hollows are highlighted by a combination of shadows and sunlight. The vegetation was also lit from behind, so that the yellowing vegetation took on this amazing warm glow, so much so that it almost radiated an autumnal warmth. This was made more spectacular by the presence of the darkening storm clouds approaching from the south, producing a dark contrast to the warm autumnal highlights.

Last Day of Summer

As autumn approaches tomorrow, and as yesterday it felt like November, as the clouds had formed slipped halos that sat partway down the surrounding hills, accompanied by pouring rain, and the Swallows lined up on the phone-lines ready to head south again. However, twenty-four hours later and for the last day of summer, the sun has shone and autumn could be a million miles away, apart from the fact that the colours are beginning to change and the breeze has a whisper of the cooling temperatures to come.

As for me, today, I was back at one of my favourite mires in the Scottish Borders, Murder Moss, where though the sun shone and the weather was beautiful, instead of the greens of summer, the Sedge beds are beginning to turn a rich autumnal red. At present these have yet to form fully and the last hints of summer can be seen as a remnant green carpet left underneath, with the occasional shoot making its way through these reddish highlights, in the form of the long stalk of the still green Common Reed. Accompanying these autumnal reds and oranges, there are just some hints at the summer that has been, with the occasional spot of mauve from Devil’s-bit Scabious and Water Mint inflorescences and the occasional yellow saucer of a Greater Spearwort flower, remaining amongst the now ripening Sedges and Purple Moor-grass beds.

Murder Moss – 21 September 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Within the more sheltered areas Dragonflies where hawking around the dying stems, from the small and brownish Common Darters to the larger and more brightly coloured Common Hawkers, shining with their patches of azure blue, highlighted against the black background of their body. Found the one of these Common Hawkers sunning itself on a six inch wide plank, which are used for monitoring the dipwells on Murder Moss, making it perfect to study. Though not quite in focus, I was still impressed with the photo and especially as balancing on narrow planks and taking photos at the same time isn’t exactly a strong point of mine, and thought it was worth a showing here.

Common Hawker – Murder Moss – 21 September 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Passing of Summer

Thursday, on a what was a decidedly cold and blustery evening, I was out at Lindean Reservoir, where I was accompanied by a cold northerly wind and the occasional honk of the first of this years Geese returning south. Bringing home the fact that summer has now almost passed, and autumn and winter will be rapidly approaching.

With the passing of summer, the vegetation is now beginning to look distinctly tired and worn. The grasslands have a distinctive brown tinge as the remaining inflorescences have set seed and dried out. There are only a few spots of colour remaining from the odd flower, making the occasional mauve, yellow and cream splash to highlight the now drab appearance of the sward. Above the scattering of trees round the reservoir edge have leaves that are beginning to turn brown, some have even dropped most of them leaving just the bare branches to announce the coming of winter.

Lindean Reservoir at Dusk – 12 September 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

But autumn means that sunsets are much more accessible, coming at a sensible time, rather than of way off in the early hours and Thursday night’s was a good introduction to those to come. The sky had begun to darken, as a number of shower clouds began to gather, as the grey clouds grew they took on a delicate apricot hue of the setting sun, while the sky to the west remained clear with a delicate tinge of blue. A reminder of the summer, maybe? As the clouds grew, so did the depth of colour, as though someone was washing the clouds with successively deeper orange coloured washes. Always they remained in the oranges, never quiet making the transition into red. Maybe not the fire of classic sunsets, but when reflected in the still areas of the water surface a spectacular sight, never the same for two minutes in a row. Then just as the rain came to wash away the orange colour, out came a final sight of a rainbow, with its start somewhere around Nether Whitlaw Moss and its end in the direction of either Blackpool or Beanrig Moss.

Rainbows at Dusk – 12 September 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Wonders of Whitlaw Mosses

Back at Whitlaw Mosses again on Friday after a couple of months absence, on what finally felt like the first real day of summer. The sun was shining, there was the sound of combine harvesters working in the background, accompanied by that summer drone of insect activity. 

What a difference a couple of months makes to a place, things have changed so much since my last visit to this combination of sites back at the end of May. Since my last visit the greens have become brighter and more vibrant, with maybe that touch of yellow that comes as the vegetation ripens towards the height of summer. More noticeable is that the vegetation has grown. Reeds that where hardly above the surrounding vegetation have shot up to dominate a number of scenes, as they have put on several feet of growth over the intervening time. Now also the greens are spotted with the remains of colour, most prominent by this stage are the white of various umbellifers, ranging from Angelica (Angelica sylvestris) in most of the mosses, to one of my favourites, Cowbane (Cicuta virosa) within the swamps of Nether Whitlaw, accompanied by the yellow of the odd spot of Greater Spearwort (Ranunculus lingua) as it spreads its way across Murder Moss and the blue of Skullcap (Scutellaria galericulata) as it attempts to grow out of the board-walk.

Blackpool Moss – 10 August 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Each of the mosses has its own character at every time of year, and each has something that jumps out to make a visit memorable. On Murder Moss it was the mad activity of the Dragonflies in the day’s bright sunshine. It is a shame that my identification skills of this group are so poor and that only the ones I can identify are the Black Darters, though there was at least one other species present. For Blackpool Moss the primeval feel of the Willow Carr, made more so by the rapid growth of the Reeds in the understory that rapidly encloses you within an enclosed hot and steamy place. On Beanrig Moss its the hummocks of Sphagnum over which creep the thin stems of Cranberry, where the berries are beginning to form and masses of Sundews spread their gland tipped leaves out across the moss surface. More amazing is the fact that these are set amongst alkaline flushing water of the fen. Then finally there was Nether Whitlaw Moss, where the place was a mass of Blue-tailed Damselflies that I supposed had just hatched and were everywhere. There were so many scattered across the vegetation that you could hear the tap tap of their wings as their movement hit the surrounding vegetation.

Nether Whitlaw – 10 August 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Dr Livingston I Presume?

Well it might not have been the humid mists of an African jungle, but yesterday, on a misty Scottish morning, I was to be found scrambling my way through the Willow scrub of Blackpool Moss, looking for a rare and evasive plant – the Coralroot Orchid (Corallorhiza trifida). The Coralroot Orchid is a tiny parasitic plant, that grows on the roots of the Willows and flowers somewhat erratically.

So now I know, what it is like to look for a needle in a haystack. Only this haystack is made up of Willow scrub and the needle is this tiny green plant that grows on the Willow roots. On Blackpool Moss this means scrambling amongst moribund Willow, trying to avoid disappearing into bottomless holes hidden between the overgrown roots, or having your eye poked out by wayward twigs, as well as trying to find one tiny green shoot amongst lots.

Blackpool Moss – 29 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

So by this time of the season, much of the surrounding vegetation has also begun to grow. Luckily most of the Meadowsweet and Water Avens are large enough not to be mistaken for the Coralroot Orchid, but very new shoots of the Meadowsweet are small and fine, however, they have a fine coating of silvery hairs. Then there were new Reed shoots, but they are rounder, fatter and greyer. Even more confusing were the very young flowering shoots of the Bog Bean. Once they get more mature the differences were obvious, but when they were very young it was mainly the pink colouring that gave them away as Bog Bean.

 

Coralroot Orchid (Corallorhiza trifida) – 29 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

Soon though the scrambling, the confusions gave way to clarity and the needle within the haystack was found – a number of Coralroot Orchids. Wow! It was worth, it they are so tiny and perfect. Beauty in perfection.

Flutter-by Day

With the coming of the sunshine, there was finally the opportunity to go chasing butterflies at Murder Moss last week. Until this week the weather has been far too cold, wet and windy, for any butterfly to appear on the scene up here, without disappearing rapidly into the distance never to be seen again.

The butterfly transect is very simple, follow a set route round a site, at a slow meander and record all the butterflies that occur within an imaginary 5m² box in front of you. Simple or so it seems, just so glad that I’m “up north” (as some might say) and unlike southern chalk grassland the likelihood of being surrounded by swarms of butterflies, especially after such a cold period, is unlikely, for the route is somewhat interesting in places. The transect at Murder Moss, takes you through some of the wettest and sloppiest bits of the swamp, which if walked too roughly through, will give a good coating of smelly black swamp mud.

Murder Moss – 23 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

As for the transect walk, it was as expected very quiet, in total there were five Orange Tips and three Green Veined Whites. I know somewhat lacking in body, but it has been a seriously cold and wet spring and this is the first period of warmth and sunshine since March. However, numbers it might lack, but there was time to actually take note of the butterflies, as they flitted within and through the imaginary box. The fact that the Orange Tips flitted much more purposively than the Green Veined Whites, who would flop about and then settle on a flower, regularly giving good views of their green tinged veins on the under wings.

Patchwork Patterns

Went to Nether Whitlaw Moss the other day for the first time in a long while, and I’d forgotten how distinctively different this site is from rest of the Whitlaw Mosses complex. Apart from being much more acidic than the other three sites, there are very hard, sharp boundaries between the different vegetation communities. No graduations here. From areas of Sedge swamp, to rafts of Bog Bean, to the sudden edge of Sphagnum bog. Everything here comes with sharp hard boundaries, as a result I suspect from the air the area must look quiet like a patchwork quilt, especially as the site is surrounded by the solid bottle green of fields that have under gone some improvement. I would suggest you have a look at one of the several sites that have aerial photos of the Scottish Borders and have a look for yourself.

Nether Whitlaw Moss – 16 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)

Even though spring seems to be loosing itself in the wet, cold weather, of a winter that doesn’t seem to want to depart, this hasn’t stopped the vegetation from beginning to move onwards and develop a distinctive new spring feel to it. From out of the water there arises the new trifoliate leaves of Bog Bean, that need a few more warm days of sunshine to open out into their true characteristic shape. Amongst the leaves are the first signs of flower buds poking up and at one point a single flower had just dared to begin to open and show the first signs of white frilled petals. Next to the rafts of Bog Bean are the waving grey green leaves of Sedges, which have now lost the remaining brown tops of last years leaves. Then again separated by another hard boundary, are the spongy mass of yellow green Sphagnum, which due to the wet recent weather is looking most luscious. Above which sits the still mainly dormant patches of Willows, of which the occasional one was tinged with the greens of new leaves.

Nether Whitlaw Moss – 16 May 2012 (Copyright – Carol Jones)