All posts by Chris Gibson

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: exquisite equinox!

Beth Chatto Gardens, Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

The period of the Spring Equinox in 2025 brought us some lovely settled, almost summery weather. At the start of the spell, there was still a chilly easterly breeze, but it was a delight to find a sunny, sheltered spot and feel the warmth and life returning to the land.

At first, insect activity was limited to queen bumblebees wrapped in their fur coats, visiting Trachystemon, daffodils and hellebores in particular.

As the day warmed, so out came ladybirds, Commas, Red Admirals and hoverflies, mostly basking to make the most of what can be rather fleeting heat at this stage of the year.

And of course, also the Honeybees: now the Crocus have gone over, it was Scilla-season, every splash of electric blue, irrespective of species, simply buzzing.

From now, the floweriness of the garden will grow rapidly, and there were signs of that in abundance:

And what would Spring be without birdsong and breeding activity. Blackbirds everywhere, a couple of singing Song Thrushes, and a chorus of Redwings, bound for Scandinavia, in sub-song. There were pairs of Long-tailed Tits scurrying busily though the hedges, and at the bottom of the Woodland Garden, a pair of Treecreepers searching for spiders in the crevices of a Silver Birch. The Reservoir held several Tufted Ducks and a noisily territorial Little Grebe; everything set against a backdrop of chanting Chiffchaffs, it will not be long before floodgates of summer migration are opened…

By way of a postscript, I was back six days later. The equinoctial heat had peaked, but some spectacular flowers had opened, not least Fritillaria persica. At this time of the headlong rush towards summer, the garden changes on a daily basis! Being a Monday, the garden was closed, one reason no doubt why we saw a lovely Fox running through the Reservoir Garden, the first I have ever seen on site.

But the real excitement of the day was that we were holding a Dormouse habitat evaluation session. One of the participants, Sue, had surveyed for them some twenty years ago, and been able to show a couple to Beth, which naturally delighted her. And, testament to the permanence of plastic, we did find several of her tubes in the bushes, which we can probably reuse this summer.

Several parts around the periphery especially  seem still to be in favourable condition for Dormice, so our hopes are high. And Sue, with her outstanding eye for such things, rounded things off nicely by finding what she thinks is a winter nest in one of the private hedgerows!

The Beth Chatto Gardens – there is never nothing new to see or hear! Entrance – Beth Chatto’s Plants & Gardens

Spring in Cambridge Botanic Garden

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

After a short-notice teaching cancellation and sight of the forecast for glorious sunny weather, we marked the spring equinox with a leisurely train ride to Cambridge, a day in the Botanic Garden, topped off with a lovely meal in the Station Tavern. What a great way to celebrate the season!

As always we were on the look out for wildlife other than the plants, and as the warmest day of spring so far, it was not surprising there were quite a few sparkling Brimstones in action, along with singing Goldcrests in several places. A few things stood still long enough for photos including the planthopper Eupteryx decemnotata, a species first recorded in this country as recently as 2002 and the rarer of two similar bugs found on sages and their relatives, and an early-season, free-range micromoth Diurnea fagella.

Other good finds included a Tree Bumblebee seeking a nest hole; indeed queen bumbles, primarily Buff-tailed, were everywhere, albeit concentrated on certain forage plants, most notably Nonea lutea and the winter-flowering heathers. Honeybees too were widespread and active, on heathers and Scilla especially, and drinking water from the ponds.

Otherwise, there were ladybirds making more ladybirds, Moorhens stalking the reedy patches, and the obvious galls of the fly Taxomyia taxi on Yew.

Being so early in the year, many of the wonderful array of trees in the garden were devoid of leaf, but all the better to show off their often distinctive shapes and bark. This was apparent even at our traditional first stop, outside the tea room, where the sunlit awning projected the tracery of branches, not fully formed leaves.

And then the other natural art in the garden: the lichens on the branches, the sun splashing everything with rich colours. Who needs flowers?

 

But of course there were signs of many of the trees and shrubs springing into life, producing flowers (some even in fruit), whether wind-pollinated danglers …

… or more showy insect-pollinated blooms.

Mistletoe was also really obvious on the bare trees and shrubs, very golden-green in colour, especially male plants. The two sexes have rather different flowers, the females small with a rounded ovary, males larger with more splayed, fleshy petals on which the pollen is borne directly.

And although many of the beds were still quite bare, having had their spring-clean, there were still plenty of exciting perennials in flower….

… but particularly interesting to me were the flowering Mandrake (an old friend, and a plant rich in folklore that I used to know from my spring trips to parts of the Mediterranean), Yellow Star-of Bethlehem (a scarce native that I have never yet tracked down in the wild) and the beautiful wild form of Wild Daffodil, lemony tepals contrasting with the deeper yellow trumpets.

And all that was left were the glorious glasshouses, where an even more diverse array of flowers, fruits, foliage and forms can be found, where you can visit almost every continent without burning up carbon, and immerse oneself in the fragile beauty of the botanical world around us.

 

BOOK REVIEW Dragonflies of North America, written & illustrated by Ed Lam

Reviews

Dragonflies of North America, written & illustrated by Ed Lam (Princeton University Press, 2024) ISBN: 9780691232874 £25

Reviewed by Dr Chris Gibson

Another month, another in the series of definitive field guides from the stable of Princeton University Press. For us on this side of the Atlantic, the species may be mostly unfamiliar, but the format of the book isn’t – it has almost the same dimensions as the Field Guide to the Dragonflies of Britain and Europe by Dijkstra & Schröter, illustrated by Richard Lewington (2020).

But whereas our guide covers both dragonflies and damselflies (165 species), the American guide covers just dragonflies (329 species), omitting the 170 or so damselflies. This of course is testament to the vast scale of North America – to have included the damsels at least in the same format, would have rendered an already-heavy guide very unwieldy indeed.

Comparison between the guides inevitably focuses upon the illustrations. Although I am unfamiliar with most New World species, there is an overlap of half-a-dozen species, and these show both guides to be equally impressive in the quality of the illustrations. Indeed, the American one in some ways is superior, with the very consistent page layout of both males and females from above and the side to make comparisons easy, one page per species except for the rarest or the most variable.

Another difference is that Ed Lam’s illustrations are reproduced at almost the same size, so that one has to refer to the text to discover the actual size, an important attribute when beginning the process of identification. Lewington’s are scaled at 1.4x life-size (for dragonflies), so the relative sizes are apparent from the images, which I prefer, especially when they are (as they so often are) flying swiftly by!

The text is much more limited than in the European guide, which is not a bad thing. It covers size, habitat and key identification features (the latter also reflected in annotations) while maps show distribution. At the foot of each page, ‘similar species’ and key differentiators are covered briefly; these similar species could usefully have page number cross-references. However, many of the species are so similar that it would also be good to have had some structure to the identification process: keys (however simple) and perhaps subdivisions based on range, would help the beginner and improver.

One perennial bugbear for me (it’s an American thing!) is that measurements are given in both centimetres and inches; bizarrely the inches are subdivided decimally rather than into the more widely recognized eighths. And sadly, on the first spread (pp. 252–3) that Jude looked at with her sharp proofing eyes the lengths are incorrect: 43 mm cannot be both 1.3 and 1.7 in. Of course a book like this is never completely free of errors, but one being on the first page is a bit worrying.

At a little over a kilogram, this guide is almost twice the weight of the European near-equivalent, and really not a ‘field guide’ in the easily portable sense. In part this is down to the in my view excessively heavy paper. A paper stock like in the European guide seems perfectly adequate, and could have reduced the overall weight by maybe 20%.

Nevertheless anyone with an interest in North American insects needs a copy of this on their shelves: I used it to successfully identify photos I took 15 years ago in New Jersey. And of course, many Odonata are wanderers so it is not impossible that with climate chaos we may see more American species on our shores. Be prepared!

 

First published in the British Naturalist Issue 22 March 2025, p 37-38, published by British Naturalists’ Association.

Epping Forest: the green heart of Essex and London

Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex

A meeting in Epping Forest gave me a great opportunity to spend a couple of hours wandering round with a camera in a place I rarely visit, being the other side of Essex from us, and Essex is a large county! Largely within that part of modern Essex that lies inside the M25, it is not surprising it serves as vital greenspace for the city population: indeed, it is that function recognized in the 19th Century by the City of London Corporation that ensured its survival as all around was developed.

And on a sunny March Saturday it was very busy with walkers, joggers, cyclists and many other users. Not that my photos reflect that: by virtue of is size, it isn’t difficult to get away from the crowds, even around High Beach, one of the honeypot areas. High Beach or High Beech? The maps are inconsistent, but either works. It is high enough (look the views over Essex below), and with sandy and gravelly plateaux and slopes, upon which Beech trees thrive…

Epping Forest is a legal Forest, an area of land covered by feudal Forest Law. Some such places like the New Forest are barely afforested at all (at least not until 20th century coniferization), but Epping does fit the modern concept of forest (= large wood), albeit with clearings, heathy and grassy patches, springs and wetlands interspersed throughout.

There are wooded areas with all sorts of structural types, from high forest to coppice to wood-pasture pollards, and before they burst into leaf is the very best time to appreciate the skeleton of the woods, without the canopy catching all the light.

Where there is any understory, it is mostly Hazel, Holly and in places, rather less welcome, Rhododendron…

… while many larger veteran trees, mostly Oak, Beech and Hornbeam, now reside within a matrix of Silver Birch. As a colonizer species, spread by airborne seed, Birch soon takes over open spaces on sandy soils in the absence of management by humans, or wild or domesticated animals.

One of the wonderful aspects of Epping is the dead wood, both as standing dead wood, and left on the forest floor where it fell, always a powerhouse of biodiversity.

Once a royal hunting Forest, many of the  veteran trees are pollards, the timber harvested above the browse-line of deer. And now, after sometimes many centuries, the trunks are natural sculptures, each a magnificent mosaic of living, dying and dead.

And not just the trees, but things living on them, a reflection of their age and consequent long-term continuity of habitat: epiphytic mosses and liverworts, lichens on the bark, and fungi decomposing dead wood back to nutrients – ashes to ashes, dust to dust….

All in all, it was a privilege to see the skeleton of the forest on such a lovely sunny day!

 

 

#WildEssexWalks: it’s a bitter wind on the Stour

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

For our main #WildEssex event of March, the weather reverted back to winter after recent welcome sun and warmth. We were on the south shore of the Stour Estuary, at Manningtree, in the teeth of a very cold breeze and dodging a spate of spiky hail showers. Dramatic views certainly as the high tide receded, but discomfort for some who headed off early to the welcoming warmth of the Skinner’s Arms!

On the exposed shoreline there were rather few birds, fewer than we expected even given the fact that some of the shorebirds will already have started their northward migrations. Most numerous were Redshanks, Teals, Oystercatchers and Black-tailed Godwits.

Especially when the sun came out between the showers, paired Lesser Black-backed Gulls and small groups of Wigeon showed well …

… as several Avocets swept gracefully across the mudflats, those against the light demonstrating just how good their bold black and white camouflage really is.

Star of the show however were the Little Egrets in pools and creeks, or wafting past, and the single Greenshank that kept coming around just to make sure everyone knew why it wasn’t a Redshank!

This was a joint group of Wild Essex regulars and Wivenhoe Tree Protectors, which to judge from the chatter in the pub worked very well. And all proceeds (£110, thanks everyone) are going to be added to the pot to help cover legal and technical expenses, trying to find alternative solutions to save the Old King George Oak, doing the work that by all rights should have been done as due diligence by those who have instead condemned it.

The Wild Side of Essex: springing into Spring around the Colne Estuary

Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

After several gloriously sunny days, it was a little disappointing that our latest Naturetrek walk started under grey skies, which remained like that all day, except  for the faintest glimmer of sun around lunchtime. But Spring has arrived, and it turned into one of those very special walks, a multifaceted wander through the last 50 million years of the wild side of Wivenhoe, from the deposition of London Clay right up to the last two months’ campaign to save our iconic local oak tree from the grasps of corporate greed…

Starting from the Railway Station, where House Sparrows were cheerily nesting, we ventured briefly into Wivenhoe Wood, where Song Thrush, Robins and Great Tits provided the soundtrack… Bluebell leaves were spearing through, destined to provide a haze of blue in six weeks’ time, and Butchers’-broom revealed its gorgeously unassuming flowers after a short, prickly search.

And searching for the flowers, we also came across a Common Bagworm moth in its distinctive straw-clad silken bag. Nearby, other cryptic biodiversity included leaf mines, Evergreen Oak Leaf-miner moth and Holly Leaf-miner fly, and under the railway underpass, European Cave-spider, first discovered here last year and its only known locality in north Essex.

Walking round Ferry Marsh, the reedbeds were quiet apart from a few singing Wrens, Cetti’s Warblers, Reed Buntings and Little Grebes. Out on the tidal river, just as high tide was starting to fall away, there were Black-headed and Lesser Black-backed Gulls, and several pairs of Teals dabbling in the shallows, as well as a lone male Wigeon. Cherry-plum (‘blackthorn’ to many) was in full flower, whereas true Blackthorn was still tight in bud – a treat for two weeks’ time.

Walking along the Wivenhoe waterfront, we talked through the layers of social history, involving fishing, seaborne links to London and the Low Countries, shipbuilding, pre-containerisation bulk handling port operations, the flowering of an artistic community, sensitive redevelopment of port and shipyard, right up to the shift from commuting to home-working during and after the pandemic.

Among all of this there were paired Oystercatchers flying noisily past and a single Black-tailed Godwit, along with Jersey Cudweed (a rare plant that just loves to inhabit block-paving), the fruiting bodies of Cord-grass Ergot thrusting out of the grass heads on the saltmarsh, Hazel with the male catkins just over but the female flowers at their most enticing, Red Dead-nettles ready for the emerging bees, and Acacia dealbata in extravagant bloom, attracting bees to its fragrant mix of almond and toilet-cleaner!

Coffee-time arrived; we just happened to be below our flat, when Jude walked round the corner, and she treated the whole group to impromptu tea, coffee and biscuits. Very welcome, but no promises that this will become a regular feature of such walks!

From there it was out to the open estuary, beyond the tidal barrier.

The landward marshes held scurrying Meadow Pipits and singing Linnets and Reed Buntings, and gave a good view of the Essex Alps…

… while seaward it was the flatlands of sea, mudflat, saltmarsh, in places a fringe of trees….

… and of course birds, mostly feeding on the invertebrates in the mud. Redshanks were all over the flats, Black-tailed Godwits more numerous (some 600) but in tight groups, along with Curlews, Little Egrets and more.

Lunch was overlooking the estuary below Grange Wood, a more peaceful spot with expansive views can scarce be conceived, with gently burbling Brents in the background and a swishing Spoonbill centre-stage.

Time for trees. There were numerous dead Elms, the victims of Dutch Elm Disease, standing starkly along the river frontage, and magnificent boundary Oak pollards and coppice stools all the way up the side of Grange Wood and along Cutthroat Lane, the latter lined with more Butchers’-broom, including some very substantial bushes.

And so into Cockaynes Reserve, prehistoric protoThames turned ancient woodland turned gravel pit turned nature reserve.

The acidic heathland with luminous moss spore capsules catching the weak sun and Reindeer Lichens forming a frosted mat …

…led to Villa Wood, with vocal Chiffchaffs, and dozens of Redwings in the treetops, seeeping and singing before their return northwards. Then alongside Sixpenny Brook, its banksides clothed in Lesser Celandines and Opposite-leaved Golden-saxifrage, dead branches clad in Turkey-tails and Maze-gills.

And of course the Scarlet Elf-cups, a truly iconic fungus to this site, the only place it can be found in north-east Essex, and the species that so inspired the boss of the gravel company when I found it with him in 1986 that ‘nature reserve with some retained woodland’ became the preferred endpoint for the site, rather than ‘gravel pit, filled with domestic rubbish, and capped to create grassland fit only for grazing horses.’

All that was left was a wander through the plantation with an anomalous mix of Beech and Southern Beech trees, back along the alpine ridgeway to Wivenhoe drenched in Skylark songs. And a final stop under THE oak tree to complete our whistle-stop tour of fifty million years of Wild Wivenhoe!

 

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: Spring arrives … at last!

Beth Chatto Gardens, Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

February may be the shortest month, but also the longest when it is filled with days of grey gloom. And for us this year, a life dominated by our mission to save the iconic Wivenhoe King George Oak Tree… But March duly arrived, and on the first day of (meteorologists’) Spring, it was out to the gardens to see the changes over the past month.

It was a beautiful sunny day, with crystalline blue skies, although the air was still cold out of direct sunlight – the breeze was in the north, as it had been for months.

The Winter Aconites, so valuable to insects at the start of February were all but over, with snowdrops following rapidly …

… their place in the pollinator restaurant being taken by Helleborus, Sarcococca and Ficaria …

 

… and a whole lot more…

… including flowering shrubs such as Parrotia persica, Viburnum tinus, Hazel and Cornus mas.

But the real star was Crocus, especially the stands in the Gravel Garden, literally buzzing with life, with numerous Honeybees nimbly stripping the stamens of pollen and almost as many queen bumbles bending whole flowers under their weight as they fulfilled their needs. This buzz of Spring enraptured many of the human visitors, making a captive audience for me to advocate further about using our own spaces to help beleaguered wildlife.

Otherwise, insects were out a-basking, warming up in the welcome sun, including blowflies, hoverflies, ladybirds and single Box Bug and Green Shield-bug, the latter still in its brown winter garb. It will be changing soon!

The birds are getting into the spring mood too. Around the garden there were Robins, Great Tits and Goldcrests in full song, with displaying Buzzards mewling overhead. Any day now the first Chiffchaffs will be piping up, and from there it will be headlong into summer…

All this, along with flashbacks to the berries and bark of Winter, seamlessly merged with the vibrant new greens of the exciting season to come.

Everything changes so fast at this time of year, so why not visit now, and then again a week later ad infinitum. There will never be nothing new for you to see or hear! Entrance – Beth Chatto’s Plants & Gardens

 

Guildford & Arundel by train

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

A short break to recover from Disneyland Paris! What better than a two centre, two night break, in Guildford and then Arundel. A common theme of both towns is that they are overlooked by brooding edifices, none of which would look remotely out-of-place in Disneyland!

In Guildford, it is the cathedral, started before WW2 and completed some 30 years later. Indeed, this edifice is why we chose to visit Guildford, having seen it in a Guardian article about 20th century architectural marvels… And there it was, on the hilltop, especially impressive in sunlight with dark clouds behind.

A veneer of bricks give it a ‘1950s water treatment works’ vibe, but it is undeniably awesome…

And then inside to where the bricks are changed for monumental stone, surrounding towering heights…

Without the patina and wear of the ages, it may lack warmth as a building, but the space is undeniably impressive. What it must be like to hear that space filled with organ music we can only imagine, but it will be on our radar for a future trip.

Largely clear class windows lend an airy feel, with visual interest added by texturing within the glass to create transient sculpting of light as the sun shines through.

The cathedral is set atop Stag Hill, the local peak of the North Downs. Evidently the air here is relatively clean, to judge from the density and diversity of bark-dwelling lichens and mosses.

But Guildford we found (actually much to our surprise) is much more than its cathedral. We had no idea we would be visiting such a vibrant town, with all sorts of historic buildings, including guildhall and hospital.

A castle as well, set amid a pleasant garden, with spring bulbs and flowering Hazel, including one heavily infested with the mites that case the Hazel Big-bud gall. And on the older walls, mostly chalk from the quarry below, again a range of lichens.

Churches too were interesting, especially St Nicolas’, with its magnificent wall painting and  inter-faith links with the Romanian Orthodox church…

… and St Mary’s with some lovely art and modern stained glass.

The river Wey, a tributary of the Thames, runs through the town and was crossed by a ford in historic times, hence the name. Prone to flooding, the lower part of town was at risk of flood again, the river in spate after a day of heavy rain previously.

A few plants in flower included Alder, Cherry-plum and Danish Scurvy-grass, all several days off flowering back home.

And the Weyside pub, by the mill and alongside a canalized section of the river, was a fine place for lunch with a view!

And so through Sussex to Arundel. Here dominating this particular settlement are two Disneyeque edifices, a fairyland castle and the hulking Gothic-style cathedral, straight out of the Addams Family!

Being winter, the castle and gardens were closed, but the outside of the wall had some interesting plants, including Wall Rue and several lichens, including the large, foliose blackish Lathagrium fuscovirens.

The cathedral was dramatic outside, if only for its uncompromising bulk, but actually quite disappointing within, apart from the shapely columns and again the interplay of sunlight, glass and stone:

But much more interesting, betwixt castle and cathedral, was St Nicholas Church, its ecological churchyard and positive messages within about God’s Acre being for nature as much as for people.

Again, the walls and churchyard sculptures had a good range of lichens and mosses:

The town was attractive enough, with flint walls, and plenty of places to eat (La Campania Italian restaurant was especially good, and surprisingly good value, on its Wednesday fish night) or buy trinkets (if not normal day-to-day shopping). And our hotel, the Swan, was an excellent Fuller’s pub which produced a breakfast like no other, including the best black pudding I have ever tasted.

At the river, the Arun was in spate after the same rain system that had affected Guildford.

But again welcome messaging everywhere about nature, pollinators and steps being taken to protect and enhance the natural world. And yes, in the late February sun there were bees and hoverflies taking full advantage of the largesse of the townspeople. A lovely end to a splendid three days away.

#WildEssexWalks: hunting the Elves – in Cockaynes Reserve

Britain's Wildlife, Bug & Botany Walks, Cockaynes Reserve, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

We went in search of Elves and were certainly not disappointed!

Our first walk of the year, to Cockaynes Reserve, was a most enjoyable event. We got off to a rather damp start but the rain soon stopped and the sun came out –  it was so nice to have the chance to catch up with some of our old friends in this familiar and well-loved place.  This time all proceeds are going to the Save the Old King George Oak appeal and we would like to thank everyone for their contributions – all monies now forwarded via the Crowdfunder page. If you would like to read Chris’ wise words about this whole shenanigans you can via his blog Saving Wivenhoe’s Old King George Oak Tree | Chris Gibson Wildlife.

And so to the Elves (rather the Scarlet Elf-cup fungus) – wow, what a wonderful display this year! Many times more than we have ever seen in the past 14 years of living in Wivenhoe- indeed possibly since Chris first found them here in 1986.  Unsure why – maybe the disturbance caused by the remaking of the path a couple of years managed to spread the spores, or the damp spring has just made their existence more viable? Whatever the reason they were a joy to behold, and seemingly spreading to previously Elf-free sections of Villa Wood. A truly iconic species for this reserve.

And these were not the only fungi to be found. Turkey-tails and Maze-gills  were on rotting stumps and King Alfred’s Cakes and Jelly Ears on Ash and Elder trees respectively.

Within the lush mossy greenscape alongside Sixpenny Brook (running very muddy after the overnight heavy rain), there were flowering Hazel bushes, male tassels in abundance, while Jude found one plant in which the little red female flowers were just emerging.  There were also Lesser Celandines (some with beautifully marked leaves, variegated in both black and silver) and the first Opposite-leaved Golden-saxifrages in flower, always good to see as a sign that Spring is just around the corner.

Elsewhere, plant-wise it was a pleasure to see Gorse in full flower (well, kissing IS in season 😉), Winter Heliotrope on the side of Ballast Quay Lane, as well as early-flowering Red-Dead-nettles and Common Field Speedwells, as well as the tentative spikes of Bluebell and Wild Arum leaves pushing up.

Out on the heathy areas, it was too early for flowers, but the spore-capsules of the Juniper Haircap moss made for a splendid vista among the Reindeer Lichens.

Spring was in the air with bird life at every turn including flocks of Goldfinches, Linnets and Chaffinches, and Skylarks singing along the path up to the reserve; while there at least three Song Thrushes serenaded us, plus Wrens, Robins and a Chiffchaff (the first we have heard this year – so early in the season it must have stayed here all winter, rather than migrating as they did of old). Mixed bands of Great, Blue and Long-tailed Tits rampaged through the woods and scrub, and generally gave the impression of Nature waking up in anticipation of Spring!

We feel we have well and truly kicked off our Wild Essex season and look forward to the next event next month (bird watching starting at Manningtree Co-op).

Saving Wivenhoe’s Old King George Oak Tree

Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

Setting the scene

There is a tree in Wivenhoe that everyone knows. It is a Pedunculate Oak, with a hideous straitjacket of tarmac right up to its trunk, in the public car park at the bottom of the King George V field, the former front lawn of the long-gone Wivenhoe Hall.

This tree can be seen from vantage points across the town: even at nearly a kilometre from our flat, it is the tallest feature on our north-western skyline, except for St Mary’s Church. It is seen by everyone parking, playing in the park, walking past on the way to and from the station, or sitting in the window of the Greyhound Pub.

It is not the oldest of trees, maybe 180-200 years old, nor the most stately. But it is truly iconic to the people of Wivenhoe. It began life as a boundary tree of the Wivenhoe Hall estate, and then when little more than a sapling in 1863 witnessed the excavation of a precipitous gorge just a few tens of metres away – the arrival of the railway. Around that same time, a row of houses, Clifton Terrace, was built on spoil from the cutting lying over a slippery clay subsurface, between the tree and the railway. If ever there was a situation for storing up problems for the future it was this: general migration railwaywards could have been foreseen. Thankfully there were plenty of trees along the Hall estate boundary, which in full summer flow transpired huge volumes of water from the clay surface into the air, but despite this the terrace has long been subject to movement and instability, in many of the buildings necessitating underpinning.

In the later decades of the 20th century, when Wivenhoe Town Council assumed responsibility for the car park from Colchester, town councillors were steadfast in their defence of the tree, by now part of the village psyche.

But no longer, it seems. Bullied by Aviva, insurers for a couple of the properties on Clifton Terrace, Wivenhoe Town Council were told they would be responsible for costs of works to subsiding properties if they did not remove what the insurers saw was the cause of subsidence – this tree and two of its neighbours.

This has rumbled on for three or four years, but sadly every stage has been shrouded in secrecy, all council decisions made in secret (Nolan principles, anyone?), and with pitifully little public consultation, especially with one large and important constituency – the people of the village who know, love and benefit from its reassuring, life-giving and life-affirming presence.

 

Drawing lines in the tarmac

‘It’s only a tree, there are hundreds more in the woods‘ screamed the unthinking. Well, actually three trees, and perhaps a hedge, but yes, why focus on this minority? But it is much more than a tree, it is an iconic tree. As with every mature oak, it has a huge set of values, from cleansing the air, to absorbing carbon dioxide, to sustaining biodiversity: in time (decades rather than days), those values could be replaced by ‘compensatory’ plantings. But what of the deficit built up year on year – perhaps the time needed to make this up as well would be centuries rather than days.

There are also irreplaceable attributes, those that are location-specific, putting ‘green’ into the lives, hearts and minds of everyone who sees it. As has been conclusively demonstrated up the road at the University of Essex, the value of greenspace to our physical and mental wellbeing is largely unmeasured in economic decisions, perhaps unmeasurable, but certainly very significant. How much would the collective blood-pressure of Wivenhovians rise were these trees to be killed? And of course the other location-specific values, as mentioned above: the megalitres of subsurface water that they disperse into the atmosphere by evapotranspiration in the summer, along with shade and shelter for parkers and play-parkers alike.

Location-specific values simply cannot be ‘compensated for’ by measures taken elsewhere. The trees are therefore irreplaceable assets, and so any decision to remove them must be based on the highest evidential standards – it must be established beyond reasonable doubt that they are causing the harm that is alleged.

Central to all of this is evidence. Evidence that Aviva say it has, but is withholding. So we are talking not just about a tree or three, but a point of principle, a matter of justice and democracy itself. Vested interest should never be in the role of prosecution, judge, jury and executioner without all empirical evidence being available for public scrutiny; to do otherwise is but a kangaroo court.

‘Evidence’ withheld is evidence that is inadmissible in any system of jurisprudence. Indeed, one has to question why it is withheld. Data protection? That is what redaction is for. Because it doesn’t support a pre-judged narrative? Because it simply doesn’t exist? Who knows – we certainly don’t, as Aviva and the council have hitherto retreated behind a cloak of secrecy.

But if released in entirety, and it can be demonstrated beyond reasonable doubt that that the trees are the substantive and substantial cause of the harm they alleged to be causing AND it can be demonstrated that the risks of felling to a whole row of properties are lesser than the risks to one property of not felling AND it is shown there are no equivalent, non-terminal solutions, we would reluctantly accept felling as necessary…

A war of peace

Everything came to a head in the second week of January. A few days previously, notices had been placed around the car park saying it and the toilets were to be closed ‘for essential maintenance’. No mention of felling the tree but by now we were alert to the intended execution, planned for 13th-15th January.

The security fencing arrived, but before it was completed, we moved in peacefully (as we remained throughout). And so the Tree Protectors’ (defiantly not Protestors’) movement was born. It grew organically, each adopting the role best suited to their skills, and providing 24/7 protective cover at the tree in all weathers, as well as other essential roles, including publicity, fund-raising and crucially a team to negotiate our case with the council, supported by our barrister Paul Powlesland. The way it all came together made me wonder just how much more successful the Suffragettes could have been if they had the organising power of WhatsApp (assuming they, as we did, rapidly developed ways of securing their networks against spies and lurkers).

Nearly five weeks followed when we got to know the car park and the tree intimately. We forged friendships within our group, and positive relationships with most in the town. We were peaceful, and there was barely a raised voice in opposition. Of course there were some opposing views, mainly around the closure of the car-park and public toilets, although as became clear when last week tree surgeons moved in to trim the trees, the closures were a matter of Council choice rather than a necessity.

Sitting by the oak, day and night, provided lots of opportunity for observation. The tracery of the branches, whether against grey skies or blue, sunlight or moonlight, dripping with rain or wreathed in tendrils of mist. The birds using it: Robins and Great Tits singing in the branches, Woodpigeons sitting in it, Great Spotted Woodpecker, Jackdaws and Long-tailed Tits passing through, and Red Kites and Buzzards flying over. Tawny Owls hooting. Muntjacs barking and Foxes yelping and scenting at night. And many more…

We saw the buds begin to swell as sap started to rise; the marcescent patches of retained leaves, rustling in every breath of breeze; got to know the mosses and lichens, the bark-life. Worlds within a world. As our friend James Canton said: ‘some 2300 species rely on oaks – and one of them is us!’

 

The creative flowering

From the very start, the oak tree was clad in knitwear, its own protective veil, along with kids’ drawings and good wishes – appropriately so as one of the main reasons we put ourselves through the cold and discomfort was for those who come after us.

And very soon, other creative pursuits followed. Many thousands of photos must have been taken, some of which will be showcased in the Old Grocery gallery on 1st and 2nd March. Martin Newell contributed a couple of very powerful opinion pieces to the East Anglian Daily Times. Poems and songs were composed and performed. And then there were the visual artists, many of whom were evidently inspired by the place of the oak tree as the green heart of town – here, the lovely depictions from Richard Allen and Lorraine George.

The Age of Reason, the Age of Treason?

All in all, this was a celebration of community, sadly at odds at times with those democratically charged with serving that community. It was as if we were rediscovering the radical spirit of Essex: from Boudicca, Cnut and Wat Tyler to Billy Bragg, support for striking miners and dockers, protests against live animal exports. Folk memories that say so much more about our county than the political bigotry of the recent past.

Standing up for facts and evidence, rather than truth being what those who shout loudest or have deepest pockets say, we helped the trees past their original execution date of 15th January, then the ‘absolute final’ (spurious) Aviva demand of 1st February.

Then after two weeks on tenterhooks, of stony silence, of raised hopes cruelly dashed, on St Valentine’s Day not a massacre, but the news that our negotiation team had achieved its objective of a legal stay of execution, six weeks initially, giving time for the Protectors to examine the ‘evidence’ used to justify a death sentence and to advocate alternative solutions. All we ever wanted! In return, we agreed to vacate our Peace Camp… which we did in a matter of hours, leaving it in a cleaner state then when we arrived.

‘Twas an evening of much celebration!! We had won the first battle of the peaceful war.

 

Postscript

With ink barely dry on the ‘agreement’, within two days we were plunged back into turmoil. The clause in the agreement to allow us to contribute a list of preferred contractors to undertake a degree of crown reduction was reneged upon: the contractor and date were announced next working day, due to happen three days later. Purely by happenstance, the preferred contractor, Tree & Lawn Company, was high on our list as well…

Then it was announced the trees would be netted, clearly a provocative act, signifying the intent to fell the trees after the expiry of the stay of execution without legal hindrance from nesting birds. We were in Disneyland Paris at the time, so much of the queueing time was spent keeping abreast of fast-moving developments, and attempting to advise from afar. But Reason eventually prevailed…

And so to the two days of crown reduction, nothing worse than a sharp haircut. T&LC did a wonderful job, in a spirit of cooperation and openness – we cannot praise them highly enough: they clearly love the trees they are charged with maintaining. Their investigation of the Horse Chestnut for roosting bats with an endoscope was exemplary. OK, so our tree is no longer the tallest kid on the block from our flat, but they left sufficient wispy twigs that it will green up well this summer, and within a couple of years should regain its pre-eminence from our viewpoint.

If it is allowed to live.

 

 

Think not ‘crown reduction’ but ‘crowning’ of a queen. Indeed, if it survives, this will be the Crowning of our May Queen when the leaves emerge after a tumultuous winter.

There is still much to do before we get to that stage, but I have hope. We can make a case for the primacy of evidence, open for all to examine and interpret. Surely that is a fundamental tenet of a civilized society?

Following crowning, the trees will need to recover, and the oak especially needs a helping hand. Breaking up the tarmac at its base to allow water in will reduce the need for its roots to forage widely as it recovers. This brings added benefits from reduced root damage by vehicle movements, and gives opportunities. Let’s get those kids who supported us from the outset back to plant woodland bulbs at its base, say Wild Daffodils, Wild Garlic and native Bluebells, as a positive signpost to the future after the Protectors, those on Wivenhoe Town Council and the grasping shareholders of Aviva are gone and forgotten.

And then there is the other long game. Aviva seems to be a serial offender in this sort of case across the country. Yet it is sponsoring the Woodland Trust in a big way, and at least for the forthcoming Chelsea Flower Show, the Wildlife Trusts! Blatant blood money, egregious greenwashing! C’mon, this is just not acceptable. Wildlife Trusts, Woodland Trust – would you accept money from Russia, tobacco or Big Oil? Thank you to the Essex Wildlife Trust for supporting our cause, but your umbrella body is frankly not fit for moral purpose. Would they accept funding from a convicted rapist for a women’s refuge? I rest my case.

A cod translation of ‘A-viva’ from Greek and Latin would produce ‘without life’. Enough said…

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

The fate of the tree is not yet known. There is much work to be done and many more tales to be told. Tales of politics and people. Unexpected kindnesses, threats and intimidation. Friendships lost and a tribe gained. A community coming together, but with deep divisions. Support and betrayal. The misuse of power and the power of the collective. Of elation and despair. Facts, evidence and reason against secrecy and half-truths. A story of a tree that became three trees, then THE trees and finally OUR trees. A very modern love story but one as old as Nature herself…

The online petition is still available to sign at Petition · Save Wivenhoe’s Old King George Oak Tree – Wivenhoe, United Kingdom · Change.org. At the time of writing it has nearly 4,300 signatures, probably mostly local, and pretty impressive for a population less than twice that.

Likewise there is a crowdfunder Save Wivenhoe’s Old King George Oak tree – a Environment crowdfunding project in Colchester by Save Wivenhoe’s Old Oak Tree. Heading towards £10,000, this is needed to provide legal advice and technical expertise necessary to achieve our aim of securing this community asset. The crowdfunder is due to close in a  week’s time, but an alternative will be provided: we will need the funds if we are to have a chance of helping the Town Council stand against the overwhelming bullying of Aviva.

The tree still stands. And spring is bursting, albeit slowly… 

Disneyland Paris: a world away from our normal life!

Overseas Tours - other, Travel by Rail

And so for our (first) February break, we decided to head to Disneyland Paris – not, you realise, for ourselves but as a treat for Eleanor. At the age of seven, we thought it was time! Eurostar to Lille and then TGV straight to Marne-la-Vallée – Chessy was all very efficient, and gave us a sense being abroad, with changing church architecture and electricity pylon design, along with the most dense Mistletoe populations we have ever seen.

Disneyland was pretty much as expected: brash and busy, albeit perhaps not as rammed as we feared. But still plenty of people there, hence the interminable queues, to get in, to go on the rides, to eat or drink. One has to admire the business model that charges a large sum of money to get into the park, then you spend 80% of your time standing in line…but at least it was calm and sunny, if cold. And the smile on Eleanor’s face made it all worthwhile…

    

But as everywhere there are nuggets of delight for anyone with an eye to see it. Personally my favourite ride was ‘It’s a Small World’. Notwithstanding the psychedelic/nightmare sight and sound of hundreds of dolls singing, it really chimed with my worldview of harmony and diversity (and couldn’t help but wonder just how much Donald Trump must hate it!).

And while we were queuing for that the pastel shades of the façade made a very pleasing reflected liquid mosaic on the water:

Around the parks, the plantings are generally ecological as well as robust and ornamental, including a good range of early nectar and pollen sources.

And every tree was planted within a rain garden to help it survive and thrive – trees were very much in our minds with our previous month of tree protecting back home, and news of rapidly unfolding events on WhatsApp (this saga will be the subject of a future blog!).

We stayed a short shuttle bus (free) ride from the main resort, in a B&B Hotel (a chain we have always found to be to our liking) on the edge of Magny-le-Hongre, a very pleasant retreat from the razzmatazz of the parks.

It is one of a series of hotels stretching around an inviting greenspace with a large reed-fringed lake at its heart, home to Cormorants, a Kingfisher, Great-crested Grebes and Rose-ringed Parakeets.

 

But after three nights, it was homeward bound, and an hour exploring the wonders of Marne-la-Vallée – Chessy station. Ultra-modern inside, with interlocking escalators giving an impression of being inside a work by M. C. Escher …

… whereas on the frontage is the retained façade from a previous Brutalist incarnation, now repurposed into homes for House Martins.

Except of course it wasn’t: Wikipedia indicates the TGV station was opened in 1994, concurrent with the theme park. As with all things Disney, all is not what it seems – the edifice is artifice!

 

 

 

 

Oh, we do like to be beside the seaside! : from Frinton to Walton…

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

The sun was (sporadically) out, the onshore wind not too cold or too strong, so what better to do than head out by train to Frinton-on-Sea.

It was a delightful walk along the greensward and prom to Walton-on-the-Naze although wildlife experiences were pretty limited: flowering Gorse (although many still in fuzzy ‘burnt’ bud), sprouting spring-green Alexanders (a month or so from flowering, but already bejewelled with the rusty galls of Puccinia smyrnii), mosses catching the rays, Sunburst Lichens and seaweeds were most of what we could muster …

 

… along with a few Brent Geese out at sea, Robins singing and Sanderlings skittering along the distant tideline.

So a great opportunity simply to take lots of photos, of sea and sand, groynes and pier, shadows and light, and the iconic beach huts graduating from restrained pastel shades in Frinton to the joyous diversity of Walton! Photos only, no commentary needed…

  

And all wrapped up with an excellent lunch and pint or two in The Victory – the makings of a fine day out!