In recent times, we have heard much about various initiatives to plant more trees, such as The Queen’s Green Canopy tree planting project to mark the platinum jubilee. Tree planting is part of the government’s plan to mitigate certain aspects of climate change as the trees will absorb carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, which is one of the principal greenhouse gases.  Once absorbed and used in photosynthesis, much of this carbon is then locked away for many years in the form of complex compounds, such as cellulose and lignin. The peak of carbon dioxide uptake by UK woodlands and forests was estimated to be just under 20 million tonnes in 2009.  However, since that time the amount has actually declined.  Many of the conifer plantations that were planted back in the 1970’s and 1980’s have now been felled / harvested, so they no longer contribute to the uptake of carbon dioxide.  It is important that these clear felled areas are replanted and tree cover restored; indeed, in places increased.  Planting rates have risen in Scotland but the performance by the rest of the UK is somewhat limited.  Even with new planting, it takes time for such new forests / woodlands to reach the CO2 absorption levels seen in the 2000’s. Continuous cover forestry (CCF) is a different approach to woodland forest management; it seeks to avoid clear felling and  promotes a mosaic of trees by age and species. There are a number of factors that influence new planting, such as the availability of land.  Using high grade agricultural land for tree planting would affect targets for increased agricultural productivity and domestic food supply.  Also, with climate change and the increasing number of extreme weather events (storms, flooding, drought etc) greater thought needs to be given to risks such as forest fires.  Recent months have demonstrated the ferocity of forest fires in France, California and Portugal.  We cannot assume that the UK will be exempt from such events.  Similarly, we have witnessed powerful storms (such as Storm Arwen) which felled many thousands of trees (and impacted on public services such as electricity and train travel).  The warming climate is also associated with ‘new’ diseases and parasites in our woodlands and forests. New planting needs resilience ‘built in’ to the plan. The Environment, Food and Rural Affairs Committee in its recent report (2021/2) has made a number of important comments in relation to tree planting in the UK, notably : It noted that the Forestry Commission had said that nurseries in the UK will struggle to expand production to deliver the number of young trees required for the Government to achieve its planting ambitions. There is a lack of a sufficiently skilled and large workforce to achieve England’s tree planting ambitions. To meet the Government’s tree planting goals, the UK will need to import seeds and young trees (until domestic capacity increases); and this carries the risk of the introduction of pests and diseases.  

One of the most read blogs is that entitled “Stick and flick, a possible solution to dog mess in woodlands”.  It also has elicited some very detailed comments.  It concerns the problem of dog faeces / poo that is left in woodlands and public spaces.   A NFU  survey in Scotland revealed significant issues associated with irresponsible access, notably livestock worrying by dogs,  the impacts of owners failing to pick up faeces after their pets, but also plastic bag pollution . Whilst, there is no shortage of dog fouling laws in the United Kingdom, the hanging of poo-filled plastic bags from bushes and trees has sadly become commonplace in many areas.   Local authorities in England and Wales receive many thousands of complaints about dog fouling each year. Not only is dog faeces a risk to us in terms of disease (due to bacteria such as E.coli and Campylobacter, plus parasites such as hookworms and roundworms), but it is also a danger to livestock through parasites such as Neospora, which can cause abortion in cattle, and Sarcocystis which affects sheep. Forestry England asks you “Bag and bin your dog's waste. Any public or household waste bin can take bagged dog poo.”  The National Trust has produced a Canine Code, like that displayed at Mottistone Manor, Isle of Wight (see below).  It offers sound advice for wherever you are walking your dog be it a National Trust property or local woodland.

Ancient Trees A recent report has emphasised the importance of protecting and preserving ancient trees.  Ancient (or veteran) oaks can live in excess of a thousand years, as can Yews.  The Bristlecones of California and Nevada may live for some five thousand years ! Such trees represent a massive carbon store.  The carbon dioxide from the atmosphere being locked away for a millennium or five!  Not only are such trees a significant carbon store but they also offer a home or food for many other species - fungi, epiphytes such lichens & mosses, plus larval and adult stages of insects, and a variety of birds and mammals.  As such the are localised centres of diversity that contribute to ecosystem stability.  Not only are these trees ‘hotspots’ for species diversity but they are also centres of mycorrhizal activity and connectivity.  Mycorrhizae represent a symbiosis between fungi and plant. Plants ‘register’ wounding. When we are hurt, our nerves register the pain through the movement of sodium and potassium ions along the nerves.  When a plant is wounded, calcium ions are known to move in response, travelling from cell to cell, and leaf to leaf.  However, it is now known (through research at the John Innes Centre in Norwich) that this is not the first response of the plant to physical injury.  When cells are wounded they release glutamate, a form of glutamic acid (an amino acid).  This travels along the cell wall and activates channels in the cell membranes that then allow the movement of the calcium ions. A bumblebee pathogen. One of parasites of bumblebees is Crithidia bombi.  It is a protozoan (single celled animal) that reproduces in the gut of the bumble bee. When infected with this parasite the foraging behaviour of the bee is impaired, as is its ability to learn.   A colony may also suffer from increased worker mortality.  Now research has shown that floral structure may influence the transmission of this parasite from bee to bee.  The length and shape of the petals seems to be a critical factor.  If the bees ‘crawls’ in a ‘tube’ of petals, then it may leave behind some faeces.  If the bee is infected with the parasite, then it will be present in the faeces.  If the flower is then visited by another bee then it runs the risk of coming in contact with the faeces and being infected with the parasite.  Plants that have flowers with shorter petals / corollas are less likely to have faeces deposited within them, and therefore less likely to pass on the parasite to the visiting bumblebees.

Most months, Jasper has introduced us to a new fungus or group of fungi that have made their appearance in woodlands,  some on trees or branches or leaves, others simply emerging from the soil.  Some fungi are parasitic or biotrophic requiring a living host organism on which they feed.  Then there are those that live in and feed on dead and decaying matter in the soil; these are termed saprobic or saprophytic.  The structures that we normally see (particularly at this time of the year) are the fruiting or reproductive bodies of the fungus / fungi.  The majority of a fungus exists as a network of microscopic ‘tubes’ that permeate either the host organism, or the soil / decaying matter in which the fungus has made its ‘home’.  An individual tube is known as a hypha and collectively they form a complex network - the mycelium. The fungal mycelia present in the soil form a vast underground network.   Some of these fungi enter into beneficial associations with plants - mycorrhizal associations.  The fungal hyphae wrap themselves around (and sometimes into) the roots of plants and trees, with whom they share minerals and nutrients. Generally speaking, the fungus helps to supply the plant with mineral nutrients (like nitrates / phosphates) and in return receives carbohydrate material from the plant’s photosynthetic capacity.  These mycorrhizal systems form part of what has been termed the ‘wood wide web’.  Dr. Suzanne Simard, a forest ecologist from the University of British Columbia, coined the term to describe the complex relationships between fungi and plants in woodland and forest ecosystems. It has been suggested that (millions of years ago) fungi helped plants transition from their aquatic home to life on land, with the fungal network serving as a ‘root system’.  Fungi (and bacteria) release enzymes (biological catalysts) and these help break down the complex compounds (like lignin, cellulose and starch) present in dead plants and animals.  As a result of this decomposition, humus is formed. Humus is a colloid.  A complex mixture of materials, some in solution, some in suspension. Humus binds the inorganic mineral particles of the soil together, is a store of nutrients and helps water retention.  The fungal network in the soil sequesters enormous amounts of carbon.  The soil is one of the Earth’s main carbon ‘sinks’.   If soil is over-worked or damaged by the intensive and extensive use of chemicals in farming, then it degrades and with it the rich microbial network. Damage to the soil and its complex microbial population can impact on the growth of plants - from the simplest green plants to the largest trees. Not only are soil fungi and bacteria involved in the cycling of carbon and nitrogen, but they help maintain the fertility and structure of the soil.  Soil is the ultimate recycling system, we need to cherish the soil and its fungal and bacterial populations - it helps maintain the ecosystem services on which we all depend.  Without healthy soils, we face a very bleak future.  

When you look across cultivated fields you are usually surveying an unrelenting monoculture  -of earth or wheat or grass. Lots of pesticides and fertilizers are used and there are regular assaults by bladed machines.  It's bleak for wildlife, whether plants or animals.  But nature is resourceful and clings on where it can.  And within intensive agricultural areas there is a pattern to the small oases of diversity. There is more diversity where an obstacle stops the machines in their track  Sometimes that's a linear feature like a river or a hedge or maybe just a fence, but often it's just a sticky-up object. A tree, a pylon, a pole, or even a wind-turbine.   At the base of objects sticking up in fields you often find a clump of plants, sometimes flowers, and shelter for small mammals and birds.  Taking the train through northern France recently, I realised how extremely industrialised their countryside has become and it's the same in most of Lincolnshire.  Hedges have been removed, single trees are rare and every effort is directed to increasing wheat / crop production.  Diversity is not just discouraged but it is seen as the enemy - a small copse or hedge can harbour swarms of crop-eaters so these have usually been grubbed out (as have many ponds (see the woodlands blog on ghost ponds in Norfolk).  Whatever the spin and rhetoric, the large scale farmer is at odds with biodiversity. The soil is a highly lucrative resource where farmers want to maximise their returns.  Increasingly, they use modern technology with tractors guided by SatNav, planting twice a year, with harvesting dictated by accurate weather forecasts and sophisticated seedlings being protected and fed by brutally efficient pesticides and fertilisers.  Lip service is often paid to the farmers' role in looking after the countryside but in reality most of them are businessmen and businesswoman wanting to optimise returns.  Farming businesses' borrowings and financial objectives don't allow them to spend too long worrying about biodiversity or the "hundred harvests" concern - that, when treated badly, the soil will be mostly gone (e.g fenland blows) or made unusable within 50 or 100 years. Refuge is an important concept in ecology: the idea that an organism gets protection from predation by hiding in inaccessible areas. Coral reefs are an example of habitats where animals can take refuge, and rainforests contain numerous physical refuges. [The concept of refuges or refugia has developed in recent years].   In the case of the arable fields of Britain,  it seems as if it is mainly the "sticky-up things" and linear features  (hedgerows etc.) which provide refuge, but not just from animal predation but from humans and their machinery.  Nature is reacting to humans as if they are the predators. There are thousands of objects in the countryside which act as refuges - it's a benign and unintended consequence of landscape clutter.  For example signposts, pillar boxes, mobile phone masts, abandoned fence posts, and even discarded farm equipment.  These objects can also offer a structure for plants to climb up in their quest for sunlight and they can provide shelter from wind, but mostly they offer protection against the farmer and the machines.  Unfortunately, the natural human instinct is usually to tidy up everything in sight, which often works to the detriment of biodiversity.  It would be better to protect vegetation and stop mammals from being mashed up by mowers / machinery, and it is often the residual sticky-up features that protect these small refuges.  Perhaps we need less rural de-cluttering of the British landscape, and more ‘mini refuges’.  

The decline in many insect populations across the globe is worrying, threatening economies and ecosystems.  A German study in 2017 indicated that the mass of flying insects (in various natural areas) had fallen by some 70%+.  The decline in insect populations has been associated with habitat fragmentation, the spread of agriculture and the use of pesticides, with the neonicotinoids being particularly associated with damage to bee and bumblebee populations. Recent work at the University of Konstanz suggests that when bumblebee colonies are exposed to limited resources of nectar and exposure to the herbicide - glyphosate,  then their colonies may fail.  Bumblebee colonies need a good supply of nectar as a ‘fuel’ in order to maintain a constant brood temperature (of approximately 32oC).  Only at this sort of temperature does the eggs & larvae develop quickly from egg to adult, and the colony grow from a single queen to several hundred bees.  If the temperature is not maintained, then the brood develops slowly or not at all.  The loss of wild flowers (and their nectar) plus the use of the herbicide (in agricultural areas) looks to be a problem for the bumblebees. Just as bumblebees are facing problems, so are honey bees.  The bees have faced infections with a variety of viruses, such as the deformed wing virus.  This virus affects wing development so that the wings are 'stubby' and useless, plus they may be deformities of the abdomen and leg paralysis;  the insect cannot function and dies.  The virus is transmitted by the Varroa mite - a parasite (that also feeds on the bees’ tissues).  The virus was originally identified in Japan in 1980’s and is referred to as DWV-A.  However, a new form of the virus (DWV-B) was identified in the Netherlands in 2001 and it is spreading across Europe, and to other continents.  Sadly, this variant of the virus kills bees faster and is more easily transmitted (according to research at the Martin Luther University).

Ladybirds are to be encouraged (with the exception of the harlequin ladybird) as they help control pests such as aphids (greenfly and blackfly). Aphids ‘drain’ nutrient rich sap from host plants and also spread viruses with their piercing mouthparts. Some ladybirds add to their diet with nectar and as they sip nectar from flowers, they may also carry pollen from one flower to another.  Like many other insects, species of native british ladybirds have declined in recent years, many outcompeted by the harlequin ladybird (which is an introduced species from Asia.  Harlequins also harbour a fungus which can infect native ladybirds). [caption id="attachment_39002" align="aligncenter" width="675"] a ladybird 'stalking' aphids[/caption] Ladybirds are coccinellid beetles.  They belong to the order – Coleoptera – and are characterised by having forewings modified to form hard wing covers (ELYTRA) and they have biting mouthparts (as compared to butterflies and moths, which have a proboscis*).  Their wing covers are brightly coloured, and they serve as a warning to predators of their bitter taste. Ladybrds can also exude a pungent fluid to ward off ants, birds and people. Recent work at Cornell University (and the Lost Ladybug Project) has suggested ways in which ladybirds might be encouraged in the garden.   Strategies that might encourage ladybirds include : Growing plants that have hairs on their surfaces that offer some protection from predators,  Plants that 'offer' food such as nectar , or prey (aphids).  For example, aphids are often to be found on roses which frequently are home to aphids. Plants that give visual (or chemical) cues. More ladybirds were observed on the plants from the Umbellifer,  Daisy and Rose families  They seem to be drawn particularly to yellow flowers. [caption id="attachment_30742" align="aligncenter" width="600"] Aphids on yellow - beware![/caption]   * though some species such as the Humming-bird Hawk-moth have a 'tongue' which it uses to sip nectar

The first few weeks of owning a patch of woodland feel like the beginning of a long and special relationship. Every discovery is new; each adventure a first. A wood reveals it secrets slowly.   We’ve already tramped round every corner of the wood, tearing our shins on brambles, sniffing at fungi, clambering round stumps and totting up the oak, hazel, maple, cherry and rowan that thrive under our canopy of pine and larch. We’ve sat and looked and listened in all weathers, at every time of day. Starting a list of birds was the first thing to do: a mewing buzzard overhead, marsh tits pitching in the roving tit flock, the tap of woodpecker and nuthatch. Autumn – though this year so mild and late – soon announced itself with a first skein of pink-footed geese calling high and unseen over the wood, the first redwing chattering at the wood edge… sounds and colours change; the big wheel keeps on turning… We have always loved moths, for their beauty, their ubiquity, their astonishing variety. Moths range in size from the tiny micros whose larvae leave scribbled signatures across the leaves in which they live, to the powerful hawkmoths or that mythic blue-underwinged beauty the Clifden Nonpareil, a creature practically the size of a small bat, and probably the most sought-after moth among the old collectors with, in some years, just a single individual found across the country. For there’s also a rich and often eccentric history of moth recording in this country with most of the larger moths – the macros - having evocative vernacular names (though don’t confuse your Bright-line Brown-eye with a Brown-line Bright-eye!), and an array of techniques for acquiring them from pupa digging, plastering tree trunks with mixtures of treacle and rum, to light. Nowadays, moths are generally photographed and released rather than pinned; recording them is an excellent way of assessing the biodiversity of a site or tracking population changes. It was clearly time to break out the old moth trap.   And so it was that this September for the first time in years we dusted down the generator, filled the trap with fresh egg boxes for the anticipated moths to settle on, spread out our white sheet in a promising looking glade, and hoped to goodness that our 125W mercury vapour bulb would still fire up after all these years… As night came the light shed unfamiliar shadows through the wood; we waited, net in hand, taking care not to look directly at the blazing UV light; waited with a palpable sense of anticipation… what secret would the wood reveal? At first, nothing. And then a first furtive fluttering across the clearing to the trap – probably a Common Marbled Carpet though I’d have to check – and a plumper-bodied moth, and me there wracking my brains: it’s a noctuid, sure, but I’m so rusty – what’s-it-called? Flame? Flame Shoulder? Setaceous Hebrew Character…? ‘What the hell was that?’ said Beth Something ridiculously large had flapped out of the shadows and vanished. Knelt at the trap, I’d glimpsed it too from the corner of my eye. Could it be a hawkmoth on our very first trap, that would be very cool! I grabbed the net; we stood back and waited. I knew we had something beyond the ordinary when Beth yelled ‘There it is!’ and I swung the net and captured it on a second sweep. It was big all right! Anxious not to lose our catch, whatever it was, we shut ourselves in the toolshed and peered into the gently-opening net with our torch… The moth was the shape of a vulcan, practically size of a small bat, and more beautiful than anyone can do justice to: a marbled, lichenous beauty, zig-zagged and pocked and dabbed with greys and whites and blacks and – look! – when those forewings flick open an underwing black and banded with an impossible flash of blue… ‘It’s a Blue Underwing,’ we cried, ‘A Clifden Nonpareil…!’ An entry in my Aurelian’s Fireside Companion describes the experience soberly: ‘For a moment or two we gazed at it in speechless admiration, fearing almost to breathe lest it take flight…’.  I suspect we used a few more expletives than that!   And what a secret to reveal; our first trap in the new wood and we caught probably the best moth we could ever hope to find. One truly without compare.  Soon after the generator packed in; we were plunged into darkness. 2022, it transpires, has been a record year for Clifden Nonpareils, as it has been for many rare moths. Our Nonpareil could have been a wanderer from further south in England where a population has now reestablished itself on aspen and poplar after decades of extinction – or (and I find this the more romantic possibility) it could have been a migrant from the east, flapping its way across the North Sea to our northerly inland wood, and revealing itself, albeit briefly, to its astonished and delighted admirers…  By torchlight, we placed the moth on a tree stump, astounded to see something we’d always dreamt of finding. It sat there for a moment, as though contemplative, then showed a flash of blue petticoat as it shivered its huge and brindled grey wings. Shivered again. And flew off into the night. What will the seasons bring?