Bryophyte bonuses

Nelson had his column and I have my blog. Nelson could doubtless pen an article on the behaviour of the urban pigeon but I am rather bereft of ideas.


I have been given a pair of wooden half-barrels and intend to use one for alpines. Accordingly I have filled one with a free-draining compost and will hopefully acquire some suitable plants shortly. In the meantime I have purchased some sempervivum plants for another pot. Most sempervivums currently on offer are varieties of Sempervivum tectorum, a species commonly known as the House Leek. The epithet tectorum is derived from the Latin word for a rooftop and the plants were often grown on house roofs in the belief that they would ward off lightning. In one pot was a flourishing little colony of the Common Cord-moss, Funaria hygrometrica.

A pot of Sempervivums showing bonfire moss together with some

liverwort spilling over the edge. 7 January, 2020

It is sometimes called 'bonfire moss' because, apart from being a pest in plant nurseries is often colonises the site of a recent bonfire - why I have no idea. Its leaf cells are particularly large and partly for this reason, added to the fact that specimens are usually easy to find, it is a popular species for use in elementary study of botany (and of course bryology in particular).




A closer view showing the capsule ('fruit') on long setae.

The bonus liverwort was, almost predictably, the very common Marchantia polymorpha. Like the moss, it may be of some interest to the bryologist but is a real nuisance around plant nurseries and in greenhouses. On the flat thallus cup-shaped structures are visible and in these the shiny green gemmae will develop. These are reproductive but purely vegetative structures which are probably splashed out of the cups by raindrops. 

On the flat green thallus of a liverwort the slightly darker gemma

cups can be clearly seen.. 7 January, 2020

I will need to carefully go over the pots of sempervivums prior to planting in order to remove all traces of moss and liverwort. Happy days!

First of the year: 2020

A Happy New Year to all my readers.


Not the easiest time of the year to be writing a gardening or wildlife blog unless, as I have mentioned, you are a birder. Some thirty or so years ago I would be up before sunrise, drag on a pair of my wife's tights and dress up warmly, take myself off to Pitsford Reservoir and indulge in some winter birding. For some unaccountable reason I have not been tempted during recent years (and warm though tights were, it was a real problem going for a pee).


Anyway, today wasn't too bad as winter days go. The morning was cold but sunny;  a day to enjoy the apricity. If only I had an insect or two to report on! I spent a few minutes examining the Mahonia 'Charity' growing beside the car park in Byfield. It was in full bloom and presented a lovely sight - but insects were there none.


Nearby, in the garden of our friends Lynda and Damian, a garden rose was displaying a familiar leaf mine: it had been created by a moth, Stigmella anomalella.

The sinuous mines of the moth Stigmella anomalella.

Byfield, Northants, 4 January, 2020

Known rather unsurprisingly as the Rose Leaf Miner it is very common but is the first record for that 2 x 2 km grid square. The moth had been busy for every leaflet bore a mine and yet the plant seemed perfectly healthy. William Blake famously wrote: 


                             O Rose, thou art sick!
                             The invisible worm
                             That flies in the night,
                             In the howling storm,
                             Has found out thy bed
                             Of crimson joy:
                             And his dark secret love
                             Doth thy life destroy.
                           

But the Rose Leaf Miner does not appear to attack the petals so is not the 'worm' to which Blake referred.* (In fact he may have been obliquely writing about homosexuality - but that is another story.)

All the leaflets had been affected.

The mines had been occupied last year, so this was hardly a sign of spring and I await our crocuses (croci as is the odd-sounding alternative plural) to put in an appearance. In our garden the only plant currently in bloom is Garrya elliptica. I love the silky grey catkins of our (male) plant, but colourful it ain't.

The catkins on our Garrya have lengthened greatly over the last month.

Stefen Hill, Daventry, 4 January, 2020

Over the last three weeks the catkins have been growing at something like a millimetre per day and act almost as an horological device.


Roll on!






* Historically 'worm' was a general term for all sorts of creepy-crawlies: silkworm, ragworm, wireworm, woodworm, slow worm and even ringworm (a fungus).


Tony White.  E-mail: diaea@yahoo.co.uk

Last of the year?

'Twas  a fine day, perhaps the last chance of 2019 to get out and do some recording. 'Stap my vitals!' I said to myself. 'I'll away to Foxhill Farm, split open a few grass tussocks and record some beetles.'


Well, the first two stages were managed successfully: I did indeed get to Foxhill Farm, and I did split open some likely-looking tussocks. Part three turned out to be the tricky bit and after ten minutes I had found nowt, nothing, zilch, bugger all; my collecting tubes displayed the unadulterated quintessence of nihility. 


But the weather was holding and the twigs of an ash tree formed an unmistakable silhouette against the clear but steely grey sky.

The stubby twigs of ash with their soot-black buds are unmistakable.

Foxhill Farm, Badby. 29 December, 2019

Although beetles were proving hard to find spiders were less elusive although crouched in crevices in the damp soil they were difficult to photograph. This immature crab spider, Xysticus cristatus, could not be manoeuvred into a suitable position.

Hoping not to be seen. A tiny specimen of Xysticus cristatus tries to blend

in with soil crumbs. Foxhill Farm, 29 December, 2019

Much the same was true of the tiny, 16-spot Ladybirds, Tytthaspis 16-punctata*, also found inhabiting crevices, although with a dozen or so to choose from I managed to get a recognisable picture.

There were lots of 16-spot Ladybirds at the foot of a fence post.

Foxhill Farm, 29 December, 2019

Perhaps the most interesting organism I found was a jelly-like colony of a cyanobacterium. These curious organisms were a great puzzle to early naturalists  and were given fanciful names like witches butter, star jelly and mare's eggs.  To quote from a BBC programme in which a Scotsman was interviewed:

 

'Star jelly is a magical substance that makes up the sun, or meteors...and other stuff out there in the sky. When these objects from the cosmos break apart the star jelly falls gently to earth, landing in gelatinous lumps...'

In Germany it is Sternenrotz - star snot.

Nostoc commune, found beside a gravelled track at Foxhill Farm,

Badby, Northants. 29 December, 2019

The species I found (in fact there were three or four colonies) was Nostoc commune, and is not uncommon in lawns. I brought a specimen home for a decent photograph to be taken.


In fact I also came home with a decent collection of spiders and beetles, plus one fly, the tiny Lonchoptera bifurcata.


* Micraspis 16-punctata in older books.

 

Log cabin log book

We spent Baby Jesus' Birthday not in a stable but in a log cabin, kindly arranged by Jacqui, our daughter, and Dean, her husband.


South west of Cirencester lies a series of lakes, most of which are flooded gravel pits with one or two marl pits by way of variety. (Marl is a lime-rich clay which was often spread on to fields, especially where the soil was light and acidic, acting as a fertiliser.) Our log cabin lay on the margin of a biggish lake the edges of which are being sympathetically managed in order to support wildlife. Enjoying warm sunshine we walked around the perimeter track of our lake and it turned out to be approximately two miles.

The lake was tranquil throughout our time there. Poole Keynes,

Gloucestershire. 24 December, 2019

Dean, invoking the spirit of Christopher Columbus and James Cook, set off and did more or less the same journey by the boat with which we had been provided.

Dean would have preferred a Viking Longboat but a simple rowing boat

had to suffice. 25 December, 2019

The cabin was very cosy and well appointed; we wanted for nothing, and as a bonus our bedroom windows looked out across the lake. I did no serious birdwatching but I noted nuthatch and a group of about ten goosanders; cormorants were generally present. Jacqui and Dean spotted an otter but Chris and I were less fortunate.

The sides of the lake were well vegetated with Reed Mace (Bulrush)

present. 25 December, 2019

For birders midwinter is a good time to be beside a lake. Botanists are less fortunate. Leaves were scattered across the decking around the cabin and included those of a North American Oak, perhaps Quercus palustris, confusingly known in America as Common Sallow.


Quercus palustris? Probably but I couldn't be sure. I never located the

tree from which they came.

I frequently come across these leaves on country walks (around Byfield for instance) but usually, as in this instance, fail to find the tree from which they came.

I was surprised to find a specimen of the rarely-seen Betula medwedewii. It hails from the Caucasus and is sometimes called the Transcaucasian Birch.

An ordinary-looking little birch...

I would like to say that it was my outstanding botanical knowledge that allowed me to identify it but to be honest I took it to be just a common native birch until I spotted the label. I suspect it was an expensive purchase but to my mind it had little merit. Perhaps in the summer...

...but it turned out to be rather unusual.

The property was provided with a hot tub in which Dean spent an inordinate amount of time, wreathed in steam and contemplating the infinite. 

Dean spent so much time in the hot tub that his fingertips became quite

wrinkled!

The nearby swans showed no alarm or even mild surprise. 

At this time of the year the swans are probably finding food quite

limited.

As for Chris, she had a mug of tea and was content with her lot. We all tend to find the waterside calming or stimulating, depending on the weather, and Chris has always loved being beside water.

A nice cuppa. Can't be bad!

A small artificial island near to our cabin was accessible by a short, low bridge and we used the island for a barbecue over a specially constructed fire pit. The weather was mild given that it was late December and we were surprised to find a significant frost had formed on the bridge.

The little footbridge leading to 'our' island became quite frosted.

Yet only a few yards away flies were basking on the wall of the log cabin. Almost predictably they were a species of Cluster Fly, Pollenia species, the golden hairs on the thorax being conspicuous.

Flies, in this cases a Pollenia species, basked in the sun having probably

become torpid during the night

Lichens, in this case Xanthoria parietina, were  developing

on tree trunks.

The trees around the lake had all been planted in the last twenty years or so but a combination of clear air and perhaps a raised humidity level caused by the proximity of the lake had encouraged the development of quite a good lichen community.

Lecanora chlarotera, very common on tree trunks.

Here beside lake at Poole Keynes.Gloucestershire

As far as my untrained eye could tell all the species present were commonplace but the signs were encouraging.

We only spent four days at Poole Keynes but they were memorable ones and I am tempted to make a return visit in late spring or summer. We'll see.

Why did I bother?

After several days of seemingly incessant rain today has been fine and sunny. Dry too in the sense that we have been spared more rain but in fields, parks and gardens the unwary walker finds water oozing around his or her shoes. The ground is absolutely waterlogged. Even so I felt the need to blow away a few cobwebs and so I took a stroll over to our local pocket park. It was probably a mistake.


Blackbirds , clucking with indignation, scattered as I approached. They are probably finding feeding easy, judging by the number of berries available but unconsumed. One bright and shining example was Bittersweet, Solanum dulcamara. This relative of potatoes and tomatoes has succulent berries but birds have so far resisted the temptation to consume these berries for it seems, as I have mentioned before, that they are relatively unpalatable. They are poisonous too (for humans) but only mildly so.

Attractive but not, it seems, tempting to the local birds. Bittersweet, aka

Woody Nightshade, in Stefen Hill Pocket Park. 22 December, 2019

Several species of plant were putting on steady growth but as yet there was no sign of flowers, just greenery. Snowdrops, probably Galanthus nivalis, were pushing through, forming what every year are increasingly extensive patches.

Snowdrops are pushing through. Their flowers will be visited by early bees.

Stefen Hill Pocket Park, Daventry. 22 December, 2019

(I read recently of a woman who, only this year, was showing a botanist friend her Turkish holiday snaps who recognised from them - or should I say failed to recognise - a snowdrop species which proved to be new to science. It has been named Galanthus bursanus and is, it seems, already vulnerable due to deforestaation.)

The bright green foliage of Cow Parsley, Anthriscus sylvestris, was everywhere. In Northamptonshire it is always known as Keck, and is as abundant now as it was in my childhood.

Keck, Anthriscus sylvestris, in Stefen Hill Pocket Park.

22 December, 2019

It has shining green, virtually hairless foliage. With it grew Upright Hedge-parsley, Torilis japonica. They were easy to distinguish because the latter has slightly downy leaves, giving them a rather greyish appearance. It bore extensive mines formed by the larvae of a fly, Phytomyza chaerophylli. This patterning can be quite attractive and may explain the name of the insect, chaerophylli meaning 'pleasing leaves'. This fly will on occasion attack Cow Parsley but I saw no evidence of his today.

The leaves of Upright Hedge-parsley mined by Phytomyza chaerophylli.

Stefen Hill Pocket Park, Daventry. 22 December, 2019 

So my walk was not entirely without interest (for me at least) but at this time of the year the sun sets very early and is accompanied by a noticeable drop in temperature. I scurried home to begin packing for our Christmas holiday which will involve a log cabin in the Cotswolds.

A Blue Acacia in Daventry?

Last year, during a short break on the Isle of Wight, I saw a stunning specimen of Blue Acacia, Acacia dealbata. Its name refers not to the flowers, which are yellow, but to the foliage, which is of an unusual silvery blue-grey, and it is sometimes called the Silver Wattle.

A fine specimen of Acacia dealbata photographed on the Isle of Wight.

July, 2018

My wife knew I was very taken with it so this autumn, when she was at Grandborough market, she saw a specimen and promptly bought it. I was delighted but at the same time full of doubt. 'You realise, Chris, that this is a distinctly tender species?' 

The pinnate foliage is of a striking silver-blue colour.

'I couldn't resist it,' she protested, and in fact I was delighted. 

So, I filled one of my largest tubs with a suitable compost of a neutral nature (it likes mildly acid conditions) and planted it in a sheltered position against our garage wall. It is not normally trained against a wall and left to its own devices will make a substantial tree. But I am limited in terms of space and in any case the shape of the specimen lent itself to this treatment.

We have had one or two sharpish frost in recent weeks and so I have prayed to Silvanus, Roman God and protector of forests. So far things are looking good and in late winter or early spring we could be rewarded with the patter of tiny rounded heads of yellow, possibly fragrant, flowers.

The foliage is looking healthy and flower buds are forming.

Stefen Hill, Daventry, 21 December, 2019

Acacias, also known as wattles, are found throughout much of Australia and adjacent islands. They were once placed in the same genus as the African acacias but the latter are now placed in other genera. Even so, Acacia remains almost the largest genus of plants on earth with something in the region of 1,200-1,300 species.

Day dull: blog dull

We awoke to a foggy day and, on top of that it was chilly (5 degrees) and wet. Of course the Winter Solstice is only five days away after which all will be sunshine and joy - or not.


I invariably visit Byfield on Wednesday but for divers reasons I went today ('Events dear boy, events,' as me old mate Harold MacMillan once complained). Anyway, undaunted by fog, rain or chill I set off. I paused in Woodford to perform a small task.  Hogweed was stubbornly blooming in the main street hoping ('Like Patience on a monument' as my mother would have said) for a visitor.

Hogweed bloomed in the main street of Woodford Halse.

 17 December, 2019

On then to Byfield where I was astonished to find Elder, Sambucus nigra, in the pocket park displaying fresh growth. It was probably a response to being cut back late in the year and I suppose that if it can hold on to these recently-produced leaves it will give the plant a head start in the spring.

This elder has recently put on fresh growth. Byfield Pocket Park,

17 December, 2019

But elsewhere everything appeared lifeless. This is deceptive of course and if I had lifted some flat stones...

In the burial ground which lies adjacent to the pocket park a Paperbark Birch, Betula papyrifera, was peeling in an attractive manner and shed bark lay scattered on the ground all around. A native of Canada and the northern states of U.S.A. it copes perfectly will with conditions in Britain. It is birch bark (although probably not from this species) on which the oldest known Hindu manuscripts, dating from c. 1800 B.C.have been written. As a schoolboy I was familiar with birch for a different reason and I learn from Colin Tudge, that the word Betula is derived from the Latin 'to beat'.


Early humans including Neanderthals are known to have produced, by a process known as dry distillation, a sort of chewing gum from birch bark. Even as I write news has come of the reconstruction of an ancient person's complete genome from a piece of this discarded gum. Now I know I'm getting on a bit but I promise it wasn't mine!

The bark is lifting on this Paperbark Birch and, in so doing, revealing
fresh bark beneath. Byfield parish burial ground, 17 December, 2019

Beneath the tree an Ivy-leaved Cyclamen, Cyclamen hederifolium, is patiently waited for spring to arrive, but it won't flower until autumn is almost upon us. With its curiously reflexed petals it is odd to reflect that this is a member of the Primrose Family, Primulaceae.

Cyclamen hederifolium is called the Ivy-leaved Cyclamen for very good

reasons. Byfield parish burial ground. 17 December, 2019

As the title of this blog indicates, it was hardly an exciting day. In fact, for all naturalists except mycologists, (who may still be finding interesting toadstools) and ornithologists (who will be sifting through gull roosts in the hope of a Glaucous Gull or whatever) this tail-end of the year rarely produces surprises. I did have one little surprise however.

A couple of days ago the family held a pre-Christmas get-together at a Turkish restaurant in Daventry. Rather appropriately a couple of olive trees stand outside and I noticed a leaf-mine on one of the plants. Once home I was able to confirm that it had been formed by the larva of an Olive Moth, Prays oleae. This moth, although a pleasing find for me, is far from welcome around the Mediterranean, where it is a serious pest.

This may be my last blog before Christmas so to all my readers (who range, I am, astonished to find, from California to India), have a suitably bibulous time and a happy New Year.

*Tudge, Colin (2005) The Secret Life of Trees  Penguin Books.  This is a wonderful read for anyone with even the slightest interest in plants.




Tony White  E-mail: diaea@yahoo.co.uk