May 2009 - Posts
Way back in the misty runes of time, when things were slightly out of focus and sepia tones dominated, an enthusiastic young ranger began a short series of articles for the local paper. These articles were intended to provide ideas and details of things to do in the countryside and to encourage more people to make the most of our beautiful surroundings.
Well, it may only have been a couple of years ago, but in that time the content of these columns seems to have developed considerably. In an attempt to keep things fresh and interesting, topics have varied considerably and I have sometimes only circumspectly kept within the sphere of environmental issues.
Back to basics this week then as I have a treat for you, with details of events and activities for you, the family and friends to take part in this half term. All the events are free to participate in and it is hoped that they will act as an introduction for you in accessing the local countryside throughout the year. At a time when family finances are at the front of most people’s thoughts, costly family entertainment can be prohibitive. However, there is a world of fascinating wildlife and landscapes out there which are very cheap to enjoy from a monetary perspective, but priceless in their true value. So, have a read through of the following suggestions and come along and join in.
The half term fun kicks off on Tuesday 26th May with a day of activities on Fire Beacon Hill, near Sidmouth. This beautiful heathland site is owned by Sidmouth Town Council and managed jointly by the RSPB and the Countryside Service. This may seem a rather convoluted arrangement, but it must be working as the heath is looking absolutely marvellous and the place is alive with wildlife.
All the events running through the day start from the Bowd Inn car park and each group will walk up to the reserve with me to take part in the activity. I think with three ascents of Fire Beacon Hill that day, I will be ready for a long soak in the bath by that night! Reptiles will provide the focus for the early part of the day, with a relatively early start at 9am. Participants in this two hour walk will join me to monitor the reptile traps in situ on the hill. There is no guarantee that we will see elusive lizards and snakes, but this makes it even more fulfilling if we do!
Later that day there will be a Bugs and Beasties walk starting after lunch at 2pm. This walk will be looking for anything that slides, crawls or scurries on the heath and nothing will be too weird or wonderful to overlook.
Finally the day is brought to a close with a nightjar walk, commencing at seven. Considering how close the event is to the longest day, there is very little chance that nightjars will start their enigmatic churring until a little later on, but the wait is well worth it and if you’ve never heard the call of this strange nocturnal bird come along and find out for yourself why these animals are so incredible.
The following morning there will be a morning woodland walk, specifically to look and listen for woodland birds. As this event will be starting at 10am it is about 6 hours late to be termed a dawn chorus, but there will be plenty of avian activity and commotion to enjoy. After all, if you are a dawn chorus purist there is nothing to stop you popping down to the woods at four in the morning by yourself and enjoying the symphony privately – I’ll still be sleeping off the previous days efforts though!
On Thursday afternoon I will be leading a short walk on the Maer LNR in Exmouth to look for some of the wonderful bees which live solitary lives in the sand. If you have always assumed one bee is pretty much the same as the next, make sure you come along and meet some of these fluffy little insects in person.
If flowers are more your thing and you have good stamina levels, then you can join the National Nature Reserve Ranger on this day for a wildflower walk on the Undercliffs. The flower displays will be staggering, but the going will be arduous so this is an event for the fitties only. For more details of this event and to book yourself a place, please call 01395 517557 as spaces are limited.
Finally, the half term fun is wrapped up with a morning of pond dipping at Seaton Marshes Local Nature Reserve, starting at 10am. Come along and use the marvellous new pond dipping platform and explore the aquatic life of the nature reserve.
Phew! So by the end of the week, pretty much everything that walks, crawls swims and flies through the district will have been scrutinised in some small way by me and whoever joins me on these walks. The only crucial element which makes these events a success if the weather, as long as we get half decent conditions there is always something to find lurking under a stone or log. So if you are searching for things to do this week and fancy exploring the local wildlife of your area, join me for a ramble and let’s see what we can find.
In a couple of day’s time you might be facing the ever-thorny issue of what to do for Mothering Sunday. What’s more, if like me you’ve spent the majority of the previous day enjoying a jam-packed super Saturday of six nations rugby, then you may be a little fuzzy – especially if England manage to build upon their triumph against France last week.
But enough sports talk, I’m not here to offer punditry. Here are some simple ideas for interesting and seasonal locations to spend an hour or two, walking off the hangover… I mean, spending time with the family.
The flower of Mothers Day has to be the primrose. A ubiquitous favourite and our county flower, this little springtime splash of colour is on prominent display in woodlands and hedgerows throughout the region. Holyford Woods Local Nature Reserve has a bumper crop this year and the circular walk starting and finishing from Seaton Heights, is a perfect Sunday afternoon amble.
The route will take just over an hour to walk at a moderate pace. I normally take well over two to circumnavigate the place when I am by myself, but then I get easily distracted. Even with thirty pupils from the Grammar School last week, roe deer were still present in the woods, crashing through the understory at the sound of our approach. Aside from the primroses and other spring flowers, the woods are also alive with bird song, as the feathered friends gear themselves up for the busy season. Marsh *** and bullfinches are particular favourites of mine to see here, and a pair of fighting goldcrests were a highlight on a recent recce.
The climb back out of the woods is a little steep, so this is perhaps not the best place to visit if the Mother in question is no spring lamb herself. If a level well-paved route is your priority, then the ever popular estuary walk along the Otter will surely be at gridlock if the weather is even half decent. If crowds are your thing, and lets be fair it is indeed a mark of the popularity, then you are sure to not be disappointed.
If crowds are not your thing, then how about taking in a stretch of the East Devon Way? This long distance walking route starts (or finishes, depending upon your perspective) in Exmouth and winds its way through the District, all the way to the Dorset boarder, so you are never far from a section of it and you can always find a little out of the way section to explore. For more information about the East Devon Way, contact the Countryside Service at the District Council.
Of course, another family favourite is a saunter down to the Seaton Marshes bird hide. After its starring role in a recent ‘Inside Out’ episode, more people have found out about this wonderful birdwatching location, and Chris Packham’s tribute is well justified. As Spring in well under way, the numbers of birds to be seen on the estuary is a little subdued, as many individuals have already set off for their Spring migration. However, there’s still plenty to see, and always the chance of spotting something really special passing through. Osprey are on the move north from wintering grounds in West Africa, and one has already been seen in the Axe Valley this year. Harriers and kites are also a possibility; and it’s high time the sand martins were back bringing a touch of summer to our rivers.
Wherever you chose to visit, I wish you the best of luck for both sunny weather and wildlife sights. I am venturing off-patch a little bit, and heading back to my boyhood stomping ground of Somerset to wish my mum a happy day. I’ll let you in on another secret too; as mother is also a bit of a rugby fan, I’ll probably spend the afternoon with my feet up watching the Guinness Premiership clash on Sunday. I had better make sure we all go for a morning walk in which case!
Darn, I slipped up. While I attempted to cover myself with stand-in columns and auxiliary articles, I managed to allow one little week to slip past beneath my radar. So, apologies for the gap in broadcast last week – let normal service continue.
And in true Jim Bowen can’t-beat-a-bit-of-Bully fashion: “Here’s what you could have won”; had I found the time to pen last week’s article I had been ruminating on in the wee small hours.
Bluebell day; a festival of all things springtime and woodlandy.
I touched briefly on the impending day a few weeks ago, but the day itself was so idyllic, it seems only fair to recap here and ensure the date is marked in next year’s nature calendar in good time.
The day got off to a flyer (pardon the pun) with a dawn chorus walk, attended by over twenty stoic individuals, who gathered at 6.30am to walk through the woods with Nature Reserves Officer Fraser Rush in search of early birds. All the favourite woodland species were on show, those I have raved about ad nauseam here in columns past. Blackcaps warbled their melodic verse, song thrushes stuttered their tuneful way in triplicate and a handsome male bullfinch put on a dazzling show, resplendent in his pink livery.
Bacon rolls followed and the determined few lingered at the farmhouse until the start of the bluebell day itself later in the morning. The first guided walks to see the flowers set off at 10am, and over the course of the next few hours over 150 people had a personal guided walk through the woods and many more set off to follow the self-guided walk.
As well as the general wildlife walks, Fraser led a botanical foray looking at wild flowers, ferns and grasses, Kate Tobin hosted a historical romp through the woods in search of the archaeological heritage to be found there and I led a nut hunt for hazel nuts and investigated what small mammals had been feeding in various parts of the woodland.
Finally, the day drew to a spectacular close with a night walk to see and hear bats feeding in the night time woods. Many of the same faces who had explored the woods first thing were back to see how they changed with night fall and were not to be disappointed. With the aid of bat detectors, Fraser and Kate were able to bring the hidden world of bats to the eyes and ears of the assembled crowd and this fabulous barometer of wildlife wealth was brought into sharp focus. Bats are a largely endangered group of mammals in this country and duly afforded great protection, with 10 of the 16 native species being found in Holyford, this is a wonderful place to experience your first bat walk.
The day was blessed with fine weather, warm and sunny but not too hot. Everyone who came along and enjoyed a walk, a cream tea in the farmhouse garden or simply sat and soaked up the unique and very special local atmosphere left with a rosy glow in their cheeks and a renewed admiration for this very special part of the world.
A sticky subject
I often receive letters and emails on subjects concerning East Devon’s countryside and, when the enquirer is happy for me to do so, I like to reprint my response here for a wider audience. This week an email about the Exe Estuary LNR.
I would be very much obliged if you could tell me whether there is any danger from quicksand when walking at low tide. I often see people out a long way on the sand, but recently my neighbour told me that it is dangerous because of quicksand. I am a sensible adult and walk over the sand regularly at low tide, so would be very pleased to hear from you whether it is in fact safe to do so. I have attached a photo which shows the area in question.
I eagerly await your reply Liz Williamson
Hi Liz,
Thanks for contacting me.
As long as you take a few simple precautions there is no danger in venturing onto the sand at low water on the Exe Estuary. The few times people have got stuck, it has been in mud – there is no quicksand to my knowledge in this location. To avoid becoming trapped in mud it is essential to retrace your steps as soon as you notice the going is getting sticky. The muds here don’t become deep quickly, so the only chance to get dangerously stuck is if you keep ploughing forwards, once over ankle depth.
More importantly on the safety side of things is being aware of the tides.
Although not an estuary with a ‘dangerous’ tide, it is important to know if the times of tides to ensure you keep your feet dry when venturing out! This information can be found online, or tables can be purchased at most watersports outlets in Exmouth.
Best wishes
James
This weekend sees the return of the Exeter Festival of South West Food and Drink. While this may not be the most snappy of titles, it is the most fantastic event and one I really enjoy being involved in. Let me give you a little introduction to this year’s show.
Now, before I go any further, I will answer the question which is no doubt on your mind. Why is the Local Nature Reserve Ranger involved with a food festival? Good point. The closest association between wildlife and food normally arises when a fancy restaurant serves up squirrel or other wild fare. But look around you; unless you happen to be reading this paper in the middle of a woodland (in which case I congratulate you on your choice of venue) any green space you spot is likely to be farmland.
Farmland, as much as EU agriculture mandarins may want us to believe otherwise, is a productive environment which looks the way it does because of the local practices of food production. Only a fraction of Devon’s wildlife is fortunate enough to live wholly within a nature reserve, so it follows that most of our wild plants and animals must find their niche within the agricultural landscape, so the connection between wildlife and farming is intimate to say the least. That’s my reasoning and it’s an alibi I am sticking to ruthlessly!
The festival is a celebration of local food, drink and countryside. It takes place at Northernhay Gardens on the 17th, 18th and 19th April and is set to be an impressive showcase of the best the region has to offer. The main stage will host cookery demos from some of the South West’s top chefs, including Michael Caines; the Tanner Brothers and Nathan Outlaw, and the food exhibitor tents are a temporary local produce super-grocery. The festival will be holding two late-night events on Friday and Saturday evening, when the real ale bar will quench the thirst while the entertainment continues on the main stage.
However these heady heights are not my zone, for the duration of the weekend festival I will be squirreled away on the “Food is Fun” stage, which is the education and family area of the festival. If you are keen to pop along and take part in one of the taste workshops or cookery demos on the Aga kitchen then we should be easy to find as this year the education zone is being housed within three giant tee-pees!
To reflect a project I am hoping to launch later this year, the focus of my cookery slot on Saturday morning will be fish. I’ll be cooking three dishes which are family friendly, cheap and use local sustainable fish species and steer clear of the clichéd ‘big three’ of cod, haddock and salmon. A pollack fish finger, a sustainable species fish pie and finally Beer crab soup, yummy!
There will be so much more going on too, with domestic legend Mary Berry cooking on Saturday morning, a Sunday morning visit from the Exeter Chiefs to talk about healthy eating and food energy, and a Sunday Roast master class from Gerald David butchery. And for the grownups there will be a few boozy taster sessions on Friday, Saturday and Sunday afternoons lead by local experts like Suzy Atikins and the otter valley brewers!
As well as a chance to pop along and taste some wonderful produce and ingredients, the festival is also a chance to meet the people behind the food and this, I think, is the strongest reason for visiting. The concept of a food back-story is something I am really fond of. Knowing the story behind a carrot, or a piece of beef, or a bottle of pink sparkling wine makes the process of eating or drinking it so much more than mere sustenance. It’s something we are increasingly moving towards; a reaction against the sanitised uniformity and anonymity of supermarket shopping I think. I promise you, regardless of what you buy, after a short human-to-human conversation about the item, whatever you cook that night will taste all the better for knowing the individual behind the dish.
In light of this, here’s a tried and tested recipe for Beer crab soup; a real favourite of mine. For four people you will need two large crabs. Buy them cooked and whole and follow these steps to prepare them yourself, it’s dead easy and it saves you money.
Firstly you will need about 1 ½ litres of good fish stock. You can get fish bones from the fishmonger when you buy the crabs, another good reason to deal with a person and not a vacuum pack, and you just need to simmer these gently for an hour or so with carrots, onions and celery for a basic stock.
Now, the crab. Pull each of the thin legs off with a twist and, if you have loads of time on your hands, snap each one to extract the thin piece of white meat from within. Reserve the white meat in a bowl and put the leg shells to one side for the soup. Pull out the body section of the crab, remove the large claws and put these to one side. Remove the feather-like deadman’s fingers and discard, chop the body into four bits after you have scraped away any white meat you can glean, and put the shell sections in with the legs. Smash the large claws and save the delicious white meat within, pop the shell bits into a bowl with the other shell sections. Scrape the brown meat from inside the main shell and save separately, discard the main shell. Finally, pummel the shell pieces in a strong bowl.
Dice a carrot, celery and onion and soften in some olive oil. Add four medium sized chopped tomatoes and the pounded shell remains and sauté for a few minutes. Add a stick of fennel from the beach (optional) and pour over your quantity of stock. Boil for fifteen minutes to extract the flavour from the shells. Blitz the soup, shell and all, in a blender and pass back into a saucepan through a fine sieve to remove shell pieces. Add the brown meat to the soup and warm through, but do not boil! Add salt, pepper and cayenne pepper to taste and serve in warm bowls with the white meat scattered over the top, a sprig of chervil and crusty brown bread.
With local crab in season costing about £5, this is a really thrifty but luxurious meal, with low food miles. Yummy, Beer in a bisque.
It is a misconception that all ‘serious’ science is carried out by people in white coats, Bunsen burner in hand, wearing Farah slacks and creating dangerous levels of static electricity whenever they walk over synthetic carpets. While this stereotype may hold out for the vast majority of experimental chemists (I joke) a great deal of valuable data is gleaned from non-professional sources. I hesitate from using the word ‘amateur’ as it has a certain quality stigma, but volunteers can, and do, input considerably into our understanding of the natural world; here’s a local example.
The annual record of bird numbers on the Estuary has been compiled once again by David Price, co-ordinator of the Wetland Birds Survey - or WeBS counts - on the Exe Estuary. This invaluable, volunteer-led survey uses a monthly count at locations throughout the estuary to piece together a picture of bird populations from one year to the next. It has been occurring here on the Exe since the late seventies, so we have a really important historical data source of population trends over the last 30 years.
Once again 2008 would seem to have been a bad breeding year for the dark-bellied brent geese, the small dark geese which flock to the Exe estuary every September. This environmental observation may have a local impact, but as with any migrating species, the ramifications and reasons may have a distinctly international flavour. With lemming numbers reportedly down in Siberia, Arctic predators turn to brent geese chicks as an alternative food source and this has been linked to lowered success of population recruitment. Although it sounds like an employment process, ecologists use the phrase ‘recruitment’ to describe how effectively the overall population has grown from the previous breeding year.
It is adjudged that when the brent goose population fails to successfully fledge 15% of its adult population, then the overall population will decline. Apart from a particularly good year in 2005, when breeding success was reported as 30% for the Exe Estuary birds, the percentage of first-year birds recorded has kept stubbornly below the magic 15% level since 1999. This may not necessarily mean that global brent goose numbers fall below this threshold, perhaps birds wintering on other estuaries have better figures? But using the Exe birds as a sample community of the species as a whole, this is a worrying observation.
It is now probably timely to explain how this figure is calculated in the first place. When brent geese first reach the Exe in September and October, it is still possible to identify the offspring from that year’s breeding season, as they lack the distinct white collar of the full adult birds. By recording the numbers of adult and young, we can calculate the percentage and hence work out the breeding success from fledgling birds successfully reaching the winter destination.
This recruitment finding reflects a worrying decline of brent goose numbers on the Exe, from a population spike in the mid eighties of over 3,500 birds, to its current level just below 1,500.
While in isolation a fall in overall bird numbers could be explained away as an accidental blip 20 years ago, taken in combination with the evidence of poor reproductive success, this indicates a genuinely declining species.
In 2008 the first winter period count of brent geese peaked in February with 1,807 birds recorded throughout the estuary. The estuary then falls silent of their grunting between April and August for breeding, with birds returning in the second winter period from the middle of August. These first returning birds tend to clamour to feed in the eelgrass beds at the southern end of the estuary, refuelling on this rich food source before feeding in the wider estuary as the winter continues.
The second winter period numbers peaked at 1,302 birds in November, somewhat down on the earlier records. Bearing in mind the cold spells we experienced in early 2009, it will be interesting to see if 2009 records manage to generate counts higher than recent years?
The casual observer can be forgiven for looking on the winter estuary and thinking that all is well. The sight of thousands of waders and waterfowl is indeed impressive. But with numbers falling year-on-year, it is imperative that we continue to act to ensure this spectacle is preserved to the best of our ability into the future. There is very little any of us can do to augment Siberian lemming numbers, but we can all help ensure that the Exe Estuary is a seasonal sanctuary for this winter visitor.
A massive vote of thanks must go to David and his volunteers who continue to provide such a valuable records for the Estuary. The Exe may well be one of the most highly designated and protected sites in the South West of England, but without these findings conservationists would have no starting point from which to focus their work.
Are you sure? Because yesterday I found that that we are all sitting on top of a hot spot; sounds terrifying!
But do not fear, this hot spot is nothing but a positive thing, and something we should all be extremely heartened, if not very proud of. It’s all to do with wildlife.
I attended a conference yesterday about dormice in Devon. It was hosted by Devon Wildlife Trust, as they are the county champions of this much loved and heavily protected species. At the meeting a presentation was given by Jim Jones of the People’s Trust for Endangered Species, who is looking at the significance of hedgerows for dormice, and low-and-behold East Devon is a UK hotspot.
Nationally, the misnamed hazel dormouse (more about that later) is a scarce and threatened species, but it would seem that here in Devon we are blessed with something of a dormouse stronghold. Records from the East of the county are particularly abundant. It looks like we are dormouse HQ, at least for Devon.
So how does this impact upon us, the dormouse’s co-habitees in the District? Well, thanks to a piece of planning legislation, PPS9, in combination with a great deal of European Law this little mouse is afforded very strong protection, which should mean that Devon continues to be a stronghold for this mammal. However, as far as daily encounters with the ginger fluff-balls go, they are something of an elusive quantity.
Current accepted knowledge suggests that dormice are predominantly nocturnal and religiously arboreal, seldom venturing down to the woodland floor. Also, as that previous comment suggested, it is said that dormice are very much animals of established woodland. The name “hazel dormouse” comes from the thought that they are intimately linked to hazel tress and dormouse means sleepy mouse – from the French ‘dormir’ to sleep. That all sounds logical you might think – where’s the misnomer?
Well, the more the ecology of Mucardinus avellanarius is studied, especially in this county, the more we notice that their dependence on hazel woodlands is variable to say the least. To thrive, dormice need what is known as successional food sources, which is a fancy way of saying they like to eat seasonal produce. Unlike voles or woodmice dormice do not possess a caecum, which means they can’t digest cellulose material efficiently and so are restricted to a high protein diet consisting of nuts, fruit and small invertebrates, especially aphids. With dormice being found in hazel-less blackthorn hedgerows, or garden bird feeders, our concept of how catholic their tastes are, is surely set to change.
DWT volunteer Steve Carrol gave a very interesting talk about some of the odd places Dormice have been found recently, and this leads neatly on to your chance to participate.
Steve showed slides of a number of gardens whose owners had reported dormice in strange places. It was deduced that the little fellow snuggled up in a dressing gown pocket, and the dormouse which fell from the curtains, were both brought into the house by cats. No great ecological epiphany concerning dormice dependence on soft furnishings, but at least evidence that dormice were inhabiting the local area... that is, until the cat got hold of them.
However, dormice seen feeding on bird feeders or trapped inside seed containers, were definitely visiting gardens of their own volition, behaviour that was new to local dormice experts and worth closer investigation. Steve visited each house and examined the evidence, and piece by piece is slotting together a new ecological image of the dormouse. One thing all the gardens had in common was their proximity to surrounding woodland or established hedgerows.
As we find out more about an animal, so our approach to monitoring it can change. Nestbox schemes are the current standard practice; putting up little boxes or nest tubes in woodland or hedgerows and monitoring their use by dormice making nests within. Such a scheme is currently being carried out in Holyford Woods Local Nature Reserve, with great success. But there has always been a feeling that because Holyford has so many natural nesting opportunities for dormice, like so many Devon woodlands, they weren’t using the nest boxes as much as they would elsewhere in the country. Perhaps a new approach is necessary to get a true picture of their lives in Devon?
Devon Hedge Group member and Farmer, Rob Wolton gave a presentation of his findings over several years studying dormouse nests within his farm’s hedgerows. He surveyed for nests through the year, using his knowledge of the landscape and skilled eye to find the nests – orange sized for sleeping, grapefruit sized for maternity nests. The farm was teeming with dormice, with a single 30 metre stretch of hedgerow containing no less that three maternity nests! His findings were very interesting and indicated a distinct lack of dependency on hazel shrubs. Hedgerows tend to be managed for neatness, being cut back or flailed on a fairly regular cycle. As hazel requires eight years of uninterrupted growth to begin to produce nuts, the crop of hazel nuts in most hedges is rather scarce. Rosehips, haws, aphids and caterpillars however abound in these wonderful Devon hedgerows.
So here’s my challenge to you as a hot-spot resident – keep an eye on your bird feeders, dressing gowns and drapery, and if you see one of these charming little mammals, please contact the Devon Biodiversity Records Centre and let them know. Instances of dormice in gardens will increase our understanding of the mouse’s requirements and mean we can offer a much more specific and informed action plan for their conservation into the future.
There seem to be a few animals, mammals in particular, which people sometimes have a reluctance to share information about. Otters spring to mind, dormice are another. It is almost always with the best interests of the animal in mind that people keep their knowledge to themselves, fearing that by letting someone know about it, it might be putting the creature in jeopardy. But this is definitely not the case with this initiative; the more we know about them, the more we can work throughout the county to help them flourish and the more likelihood there will be of finding one of these charming little animals visiting your bird table.
For as long as I can remember my passion has been the living world. I remained fiercely, even obstinately loyal to natural history and nothing else as what made me tick. As a stroppy teenager (although I was never ‘stroppy’ per-se) I scoffed at other interests or pursuits; mine was the one true devotion and all others were sorely misguided.
For example, as a creature-obsessed child botany, or wild flowers at least, held no interest for me whatsoever and they are now a fundamental part of what I do and I love them all the more for it! My mother is very knowledgeable about flowers and family walks were punctuated with frequent stops to peer at a tiny inflorescence. A bit like Kevin the teenager I would protest: “Uh, come on Mum, flowers are Sooooo boring?!” I was always on the look out for logs, rocks and pitfalls under which and into which my daily bounty of animal finds might be lurking. I was so proud of my skulls, shells, feathers and skins, I had no time to stop and look at something you legally weren’t allowed to take home with you.
Now when we go for a family walk its me holding up the party and I really enjoy sharing Mum’s interest.
I am glad to say my blinkered approach has softened as I have grown up, wildlife and the natural world remains at the centre of everything – obviously – but other things have crept in to the periphery. One thing seems to remain constant in each new excitement experienced and that is the firsthand influence of a knowledgeable person with the ability to share their expertise.
Apart from a single academic year in Mr Tavener’s class, history lessons always left me cold. Mr T was one of those teachers who stand out in the memory as bringing a subject to life but apart from him I was none too taken with the discipline. However, I had a revelation a few years ago when walking on Aylesbeare Common with Thomas Cadbury an archaeologist from Royal Albert Memorial Museum. Along with several others, we were making a site visit prior to Heath Week festivities (more about Heath Week 2009 nearer the time) and were in the process of checking reptile traps on part of the reserve.
After we had watched one particularly large blonde female adder slide off into the grass, Tom produced a collection of scrappy flint nodules from his pocket. I had noticed him picking up the stones while my attention was focussed on the snakes, and the revelation he was about to impart knocked my socks off! Each flint was not, as I had assumed, a boot-kicked random bit of heathland scree, but a worked artefact of prehistoric root. What I overlooked as chips were actually signs of intentional edge creation and many of the pebbles he found were not of local origin – they had been transported here intentionally.
A scene leapt into my mind of a prehistoric settlement set against a backdrop very similar to the one I was looking on. A hairy (well, they’re all hairy aren’t they) chap was squatting over a cluster of special flints recently obtained from a passing wanderer, chipping away at the edges to create all manner of tools, including one small hand blade which he later dropped or discarded in favour of a newer one. This had subsequently been kicked about by cattle; horses; deer; the occasional naturalist and tractor before being picked back up by another human who recognised its significance a few thousand years later. What a connection! None of them were museum specimens, but nevertheless the moment was inspiring.
I experienced this little epiphany rather late in life, but if you have any aspiring young historians, the Countryside Service is putting on an archaeological event on the Axe Estuary this weekend which could inspire your children/grandchildren to dig a little deeper. The East Devon Junior Rangers are meeting up with the Devon Young Archaeologists club to look at the history of the Axe estuary, once the most important maritime port in Southern England.
Home to Henry VIII fleet, the estuary which now sees nothing more explosive than the occasional oarsman late for supper was once the refuge of Tudor Men-o’-War! The event takes place on Sunday afternoon and for more information on where and when to meet, contact Diane Berry at the District Council Countryside Service on 01395 517557.
"I have, as you know, devoted some attention to this, and written a little monograph on the ashes of 140 different varieties of pipe, cigar, and cigarette tobacco."
Sherlock Holmes, in "The Boscombe Valley Mystery"
This week I’m talking detection, and what better way to introduce the subject, than by quoting the most famous and celebrated sleuth in literature, the great Sherlock Holmes. However, I am not trying to persuade you all to produce a compendium of 140 pipe, cigar and cigarette tobacco ashes, although you are more than welcome to try, but instead I’m going to suggest a different and very satisfying way to view the countryside; becoming a nature detective.
This is something which all too often gets put into the category of “things to do with children” and therefore not something which us adults ought to bother ourselves with unless the kids, grandkids or other errant child pester us to look into it. How short sighted! Try looking at it from this angle – as an activity which keeps young people entertained for days at a time, think of the fun you will have focussing your mind and gathering evidence in the natural crime scene on your doorstep. If its good enough for the under nines, its good enough for me!
Signs, fieldcraft, detection, call it what you like, the simple fact is that most of the interesting things which happen in the wild, occur when we aren’t looking. Therefore to be able to fathom who dunnit, you have to be able to piece together the clues that are left behind. This monograph can’t hope to be Holmes-like in its comprehensiveness, but it will hopefully give you a few easily recognisable clues to look out for and get you started witnessing the world from an entirely new perspective.
This time of year is a suitable season to look for tracks, the most immediate and easily pieced together bit of detection one can engage in. Learning a few of the common footprints will instantly get you checking every bit of wet mud and gateway for miles around.
When you are first learning your skill, give yourself a break. Don’t make things any harder for yourself than necessary and start off somewhere with a controlled animal policy. Specifically, go somewhere that doesn’t allow dogs, and hasn’t got sheep or cattle roaming about and you can be pretty sure what has made your track has come from the wild. Telling fox prints from dog prints is pretty easy once you get your eye in, but if you start off in the busiest dog walking spot in the southwest, you will never progress. Fox tracks are small, little bigger than a jack russell print, and they are very oval in their shape, more so than any dog - which tend to be rounder.
Bader prints are easily recognised by their five forward pointing toes, each tipped with a long claw, longer at the front than the back. They have a wide, fat hardworking shape, reflecting the continual digging they are used for.
Collecting prints couldn’t be easier, you don’t need to faff with cardboard sleeves and moulds. Just mix up some plaster of Paris to the consistency of double cream, pour it over the print enough to cover and leave it to set. Once dry you can pick it up and clean the mud from the bottom, after which you can paint the print to highlight the cast. A handsome collection in any naturalist’s arsenal.
Otter prints are beautiful, again five toed, and arranged like flower petals around a central round-ish pad. When you see these on a riverbank its time to look for your second sign – poo. Don’t be under the impression I am particularly keen on poo, its just that my job brings me into contact with the stuff a little more than average. But there’s poo and there’s poo.
Badgers are tidy-minded animals and will dig (again, the digging) a little latrine into which they make their deposit. In autumn, look out for badger poo taking on a vivid purple hue from the glut of blackberries they will be eating. Fox poo is long, thin and tapered, often matted with fur, frequently left on raised ground to broadcast its musty scent. Otter poo (you may notice a pattern here) is beautiful. Seriously, it’s jet black and slightly glistening when fresh, packed full of fish bones and has the scent of jasmine tea and olive oil mixed together. Great stuff! Be really cautious when investigating droppings however, as an easy mix up with something left by a dog or mink will turn your stomach and put you off nature detection for a good while. And remember to wash your hands after this activity!
Finally, scenes of carnage; real detective work. If you spend time in the countryside, you will inevitably come across the remains of something that has been eaten, or partially eaten, by something else. Here’s a few things to look out for.
A pile of feathers is a good sign that a bird has snuffed it. But look more closely at the flight feathers as they contain clues to the culprit. If the feathers look like they have been torn off, with a ragged tip, then this meal was consumed by a fox. They use their back teeth to shear the feathers off the carcass, a bit like scissors.
If the larger feathers look perfect all the way to the tip, perhaps with the faintest kink towards the end, then these have been pulled out by the beak of a raptor. Look around you for clues as to which one it might have been, but the most common avian predator of other birds will be sparrowhawks. You can go further too: If the meal is something small, up to the size of a starling, then the hawk was a male and this will be a scarce find in the open, as the timid males tend to take their quarry off to a quiet spot to eat. If the prey is up to the size of a woodpigeon, it’s a female... or a goshawk! This is only a broad generalisation, I wouldn’t publish an academic paper based on these findings, but it’s a good conversation point when out and about.
So, keep you eyes peeled next time you are in the countryside and see if you can piece together the clues to help you unravel nocturnal goings on around you.