Blog Archives: WildEssex

The Colne Valley, from Chappel to Chalkney Wood, and back…

The mid-reaches of the River Colne, around Chappel, constitute a lovely, quintessentially Essex, mixed agricultural landscape, with extensive pasturelands in the valley bottom, either side of the clear, flowing river; arable on the high ground, parcelled up between hedgerows; and woodland, much of it ancient, on the valley slopes, embracing the spring-lines. An ideal place for long walks, not expecting to see anything rare, just Spring in all her glory, so last week I did that twice, first a full day with Naturetrek and two days later, a half day with #WildEssex.

The first walk started rainy, the first rain for a month, but soon gave way to sunshine, although a stiff northeast breeze kept the temperature down. Two days later, wall to wall deep blue skies, and lighter winds from a warmer, more southerly direction. The blue backcloth was ideal to appreciate the rainbow of greens, each tree providing its own interpretation before high summer dust dulls the difference.

Starting from Chappel, wheezing Greenfinches, twittering Swallows and willows heavily infested with Mistletoe kicked the walks off, along with a fascinating cluster of historic buildings reflecting the diversity of bricks made in the local brickworks. The churchyard wall in particular features the old bricks, and supports a wealth of mosses and lichens, crevice plants like Ivy-leaved Toadflax, and ones such as Red Valerian and Greater Celandine using the wall as a storage heater to mimic their Mediterranean mountain homes.

Heading upriver, the Colne flows between shaded banks, clad in Nettles, pinpricked white with Garlic Mustard: too early for the fluttering sprites, the Banded Demoiselles of summer, the waters were already providing flying life, in the form of Alderflies and mayflies.

The open pastureland of the valley bottom is not especially diverse botanically, although there was Meadow Foxtail in the drier areas, Lesser Pond-sedge and Cuckooflower where damper, and a triumvirate of buttercups – Meadow, Bulbous and Creeping.

Hedgerows of Hawthorn in full fragrant bloom and Blackthorn, most well over but some bizarrely still in tight bud, provided shelter for patrolling Orange Tips and Green-veined Whites, and the last, tatty overwintering Commas alongside the first, scintillating blue Holly Blues, while Whitethroats, both Common and Lesser, sang from within, and Ash leaves and Field Maple flowers introduced their vivid yellow-green colour to the surroundings.

Buzzards, maybe three pairs, soared and displayed overhead, joined by a lone Red Kite, as a Mistle Thrush proclaimed territory atop the largest Oak.

Cowpats! And happily, cowpats with insect holes, suggesting these cattle have not been treated with ivermectins which kill the rich diversity of dung. And sure enough two days later, a lot warmer, and the Yellow Dung-flies were out in force, feeding and frolicking.

Back into more sheltered areas. Evergreen Alkanet amongst the Stinging Nettles provided boundless opportunities for Dark-edged Beeflies and ladybirds, mostly 7-spot but with Cream-spot and 14-spot as well. Several St Mark’s Flies rested alongside the first Red-headed Cardinal Beetles of the year, all under the watchful gaze of basking Nursery-web Spiders.

A sunny wall and wooden fence, providing security for an isolated mansion off the beaten track, was teeming with Zebra Jumping-spiders, one of whom had caught a meal in the form of a Pond Olive mayfly (not that I realised it until I looked at my photos back at home!). And in another bit of post-hoc reassessment, a harvestman on that fence would appear to be Platybunus pinetorum. First found in Britain as recently as 2010 and known mostly from more northern areas, this will be (if confirmed) the first record from Essex, and quite possibly East Anglia.

Close to the river, there were three species of damselfly: several Large Reds, always the first to emerge in the spring, with single female Azure and Blue-tailed, the latter so fresh it was practically colourless, a so-called teneral specimen.

The final upstream section took us past fields of magnificent Longhorn cattle to one of the many former mills on the river, where Grey and Pied Wagtails fed, House Martins chirruped and swooped, a Kingfisher was heard, and a Little Egret bore witness to the inexorable march of climate collapse…

Thence into Chalkney Wood, a place I have been coming to for forty years. An inspiration! A Renaissance wood! A phoenix rising from the ashes of destructive early 20th century forestry policy: when I first knew it, Chalkney’s ancient woodland roots were buried under serried ranks of non-native conifer trees. Fortunately we recognised that those who attempted to destroy the old trees a generation previously had not been very efficient; green shoots of hope remained. And when in 1987 the plight of ancient woods was highlighted by the ‘hurricane’ that swept through our lands in October, it didn’t take too much of a push to guide the Forestry Commission down the path towards a sustainable future.

The conifers were removed ahead of their intended lifespan, light flooded back, life responded accordingly, and now thirty years later it is almost impossible to differentiate that part of the wood from the smaller portion that Essex County Council had presciently been able to rescue from the jaws of doom years before…

Over vast swathes of the wood, Bluebells were only just past their best, a colour scheme interrupted only on some damper patches where white Wild Garlic dominated. And both smelled as good as they looked.

 

Other flowers included cushions of Greater Stitchwort and Ground Ivy, especially around the wood edge, and Bugle and Wood Speedwell lining the rides:

The dominant coppice trees are Hornbeam and Small-leaved Lime, the latter particularly beautiful as its pink-flushed buds open, and Hollies (of both sexes) flowered on the woodbanks. Blackcaps and Chiffchaffs sang everywhere, with a lovely Garden Warbler both days around the lunch stop.

The sunny rides were also the place to find insects, including Speckled Wood, Orange Footman moth, Birch Shieldbug, the hoverfly Pipiza noctiluca, and two ‘longhorns’, Green Longhorn Moth and the beetle Rhagium mordax, rather scattered in Essex, being restricted to ancient woodland habitats.

The return journey was along the hill tops (yes, Essex does have hills!) giving wonderful views over the unspoilt valley. Long may it remain that way. Dandelions as always attracted insects, here a Gooden’s Nomad-bee, and sheltered nettlebeds harboured Hairy Shield-bugs and a Cinnamon Bug. And stunted hedgerow Oaks showed the large, spongy oak-apple galls of the wasp Biorhiza pallida.

The eroded path gave a window into local geology, flint-rich chalky boulder clay deposited by the last outpost of the Anglian Glaciation, before at least the Naturetrek group plunged through a waist-high Rape field. It was surprising just how many insects there were in the monoculture, from Small Whites to Honeybees and several others. We can only hope the Rape was not bearing a lethal dose of neonicotinoid pesticides…

And finally everyone got to pay homage to Chappel Viaduct, up close and personal, at its very best in slanting sunlight, a graphic masterpiece of Victorian architecture, as sound now as when it was built 160 years ago. Worth the effort of visiting in itself, especially for those travelling by train and seeing views both of and from. All rounded off for some with a welcome drink at The Swan: the wild side of Essex at its best!

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: Spring in full flight

April saw me heading to the gardens on three occasions in mid-month, twice to lead walks (two for the National Garden Scheme and the first two of my summer monthly WildSide walks) and one just me and my camera, a moment of peace in a mad world.

Five walks on three days in just a little over a week might seem like overkill, but this time of year it really isn’t. In the full flight of spring, nature can change perceptibly every few days. And this year was no exception, especially as the lack of rain for about five weeks and rising temperatures completely changed track from the past wet winter, and pushed us into incipient drought. These mood swings of nature, actually more like handbrake turns on a sixpence, are what we must expect and live with in the climatically weirded future. And so must our garden plants and wildlife. Some will not be able to, so my advice as always is get out there now and appreciate just what riches we have!

The speed of change was almost frightening. Take that wonderful yellow peony Paeonia mlokosewitschii (aka Molly the Witch), in tight bud on my first visit, full flower six days later and three days futher on, starting to fade. A plant of highly transient glory, but a favourite of the garden bees!

Many other flowers of course, a plethora of potential food sources for insects and a delight to photograph:

And not to be outdone, the unfurling fern fronds and red maple foliage added their own highlights to the masterpiece of spring:

Butterflies have yet to emerge in real force, especially since the overwinterers have started to fade. But the whites are putting on a strong show, with Small, Green-veined and Orange Tip by the first visit, Large White joining them by the final date, along with the first Green Hairstreak and Speckled Wood.

The first visit also coincided with the first emergence of the year of Large Red Damselflies, always the earliest of its group to appear, along with other aquatic insects like Alder-flies, and remarkable numbers of adult Iris Sawflies, on and around the emergent iris leaves and whose larvae will be responsible for nibbled edges to leaves this summer.

Back on dry land, there were plenty of the usual bumblebees, including rather more Red-tailed than we have come to expect in recent years:

Hairy-footed Flower-bees were still patrolling the borders of comfrey and lungwort, not only for food but also for each other, with many interactions between amorous males and seemingly uninterested females noted! Other solitary bees included Yellow-legged and Chocolate Mining-bees, one of the furrow-bees, and Flavous Nomad-bee. The several species of nomad-bee seem to be in remarkable numbers this spring compared with previous years…

Two others from the same insect group, Hymenoptera, were queen Common Wasps, feeding and rasping wood to build their nests with, and the currant galls of the spring generation of the Spangle Gall Wasp on Oak catkins:

Moving to flies, some of the most numerous were the Bibio species. first B. lanigerus and B. anglicus, with the first true St Mark’s Fly B. marci on the first visit. 14th April is early for this species, named because it emerges on or around St Mark’s Day, 25th April. During the second visit, they were very numerous, and by the third, almost gone – perhaps down the throats of birds, as they are favourites of Swallows.

Hoverflies increased greatly through the month, and included many flower-flies Syrphus sp., together with Batman and Footballer Hoverflies , and lots of Epistrophe eligans.

Other easily recognised flies were Yellow Dung-flies, the dance-fly Empis tessellata and the parasite-fly Tachina fera

… along with many other less distinctive, but still important , parts of our garden’s biodiversity.

Ladybirds are still more abundant than I have ever seen before at this time of year, the offspring no doubt of those that arrived en masse last July. And while most are 7-spots, a selection of other species such as 14-spot Ladybird is starting to emerge.

Bugs included the first Harpocera thoracica of the year, with plenty of Hairy and Green Shield-bugs, and also a lovely find of a mating pair of Gorse Shield-bugs, a rather uncommon creature in the garden.

On the reservoir, Dabchicks were singing and a pair of Tufted Ducks has seemingly settled in. All around the garden, birds are in song, residents like Greenfinch, Robin, Goldcrest and Song Thrush, alongsideside the summer visitors, especially Chiffchaff and Blackcap.

On the first two visits a Cetti’s Warbler was singing on the edge of the garden, only the third record for the site, but on the third visit its apparent territory had been filled by a singing Whitethroat, again not common in the garden. And overhead plenty of action too, from feeding Swallows to displaying Buzzards, flyover Egyptian Geese and Red Kites, along with Mediterranean Gulls and a Lesser Black-backed Gull, both rarely appearing in our sights.

Another fantastic month in the Beth Chatto Gardens, the incidental nature reserve!

A potter through history in east Colchester

The joys of a bus pass. Just hop on and off, and do things you have never done before. And so we did last week, a day of azure skies that set off the acid green spring tree sproutings to perfection.

I have lived in and around Colchester for four decades, Jude even longer than that. But the eastern approaches to town (I still can’t cope with the concept of it being a city!) have always been the journey, not the destination. Using the bus more, as we have recently, had hinted at pleasures hitherto unknown, so when the day was right to photograph buildings against the blue, out we headed…

We walked through time, albeit not in a linear fashion, darting between ancient and modern, along Old Heath Road, then Military Road and finally Queen Street. Our starting point was Winsley’s Almshouses, Grade II listed, dating from the foundation of the charity in 1728 although built around an earlier farmhouse that now forms the focal point with a chapel on the first floor.

Arthur Winsley was a wealthy 18th century wool and cloth dealer. He left much of his property and £500 to the almshouse charity in his will. Originally, there were just twelve almshouses, for ‘Twelve Ancient Men, that have lived well, and fallen into decay’, but in an ever-evolving site there are now 80 such properties following the gifts of further benefactors. And no longer are wives evicted on the death of their husband!

Colchester has long been a garrison town: indeed it is claimed to be the largest and first garrison town in Britain, founded as such in Roman times. Over the past couple of decades though the extensive training grounds that brought green into the centre of town have been built on and the barracks relegated to the outskirts. All that remains are road and pub names and the military church, now a Grade II* listed building.

Built in 1855 on a military cemetery from the Napoleonic wars three decades earlier, it was to serve soldiers in the Crimean War. It is believed to be the largest wooden church in England, a prefabricated wooden panel structure held together with 12-inch bolts, originally constructed by the same firm that built the Royal Albert Hall. The church became redundant in 2007, and there were fears that it might be allowed to fall into ruin until it became St John’s Orthodox Church.

Continuing towards the city centre, we came to the next set of historic listed almshouses, Winnock’s and Kendall’s Almshouses, either side of Military Road. These date back to charitable donations from 1678 and 1791 respectively, although as with Winsley’s they have benefited from further legacies over the subsequent centuries.

Close by, Jude remarked on the name of a side passage ‘Tram Folley’, next to what had the appearance of a ticket office. More investigation ensued, as neither of us had any idea that Colchester once had a electric tram system. It had a very short lifespan, just 25 years from 1904 after which it became uneconomic due to the increase of motorbuses and cars, but at a length of almost 10km, it linked North Station to both Lexden and the Hythe. How the city could do with that nowadays to encourage the elimination of cars!

Turns out the ‘ticket office’ we had noticed was in fact part of the tram depot. At least its fascia was preserved (backed by an electricity substation) when the main depot site was redeveloped in 2020. And when we investigated further along the Folley we found the last remaining section of Colchester tramlines, again preserved within the context of the modern development of student flats, thanks it seems to the sterling efforts of Colchester Civic Society and former MP Sir Bob Russell, the epitome of a great constituency MP.

Almost at the end of Military Road now, there was a series of cottages that seemed too consistent not to be historic, but we have not been able to find anything about them. Were they tramworkers’ cottages, right next to the depot? Or could they be more almshouses, as the chimney stacks bear the same cross motif as at least some of those at Winsley’s?

Right at the end of the road, at the junction with Magdalen Street, was another distinctive and listed building, late 18th century with the distinctive Dutch gable profile so characteristic of places with historic links with the Low Countries. Once the Red Catt Inn, it then became the Railway Tavern until it called last orders in 1909.

Moving then to modern times, the Colchester Magistrates’ Court was built as recently as 2012, but that doesn’t make it any less appealing for photography, especially with the terracotta cladding set against deep blue.

Up Queen Street, next stop was St Botolph’s Church, built in 1837 on part of the former Priory, where the monastic kitchens and refectory were. This too is listed at Grade II and is described as showing a powerful neo-Norman style; although it has weathered dark, its tower was built in white brick giving it the local nickname of ‘The White Elephant’, a name of some assonance with Firstsite’s ‘Golden Banana’ where we ended our walk!

But first more history, and spectacular history at that, St Botolph’s Priory, one of Colchester’s greatest hidden secrets, appreciated by seemingly few people apart from those indulging in antisocial fraternising among the arches and columns.

Founded about 1100, St Botolph’s was one of the first Augustinian priories in England, and is an impressive example of early Norman architecture. Built in flint and reused Roman brick, with massive circular pillars, round arches and an elaborate, ornately decorated west wall, it was badly damaged by cannon fire during the Civil War siege of 1648 leaving it in the ruinous state we see today, albeit Grade I listed.

Right alongside the Priory ruins, a gentle, south-facing, hot slope brought natural history into our historical musings. White Comfrey with intensely blue Evergreen Alkanet and scattered Star-of-Bethlehem were drawing in numerous insects, including many ladybirds (7-spots, Harlequins and single 2-spot and 14-spot)…

… also hoverflies and Lesser St Mark’s Flies, Dock Bug and Green Shieldbug…

.. and lots of Hairy-footed Flower-bees, the black females feeding while the paler males chased them around, and on closer inspection, several smaller black bees with white spots on the sides of their abdomen. These were Common Mourning-bees, cuckoo-bees that don’t build their own nests but lay eggs in the burrows of Hairy-footed Flower-bees, where their larvae consume the host’s pollen food supply. First time we have seen this bee, it doesn’t seem to be especially common in Essex, though could easily be overlooked as ‘just another Hairy-foot’.

In a brief update from a return visit to this hotspot a few days later, mainly to try and get better photographs of the Mourning-bees, there were none to be seen, although there were throngs of their host species. But what I did find was a wonderful trio of bugs, scuttling through the leaf litter, all in very good numbers. Rhyparochromus vulgaris and Forget-me-not Shieldbugs are both rather uncommon in Essex, and Firebugs are a new arrival, a new kid on the block, still spreading since their main arrival at the start of the decade.

And on that second occasion in very warm sunshine, solitary bees were very active, visiting the Comfrey: Chocolate and Yellow-legged Mining-bees were the most numerous.

Back to buildings, we were just heading up Queen Street when we can upon the former bus depot, not so long ago the home of diesel fumes, spilt oil and buses in bits. Now reinvented and renovated it has become The Digital Forum, a ‘collaborative workspace focused on new and emerging businesses and technologies’, a great example of ‘corporate-speak’. Opened in 2025, at least when we poked our noses inside we found that a section of wall has been allowed to retain its palimpsest paintwork, each colour a layer of its past history.

And finally, our destination, the aforementioned Golden Banana. Firstsite opened in 1995, it is defiantly modern, but actually where we were headed was into the post-modern world of the Meanwhile Garden.

Becoming a brownfield site is the ultimate fate of all we create as a species, and the good news is that biodiversity thrives within the detritus of civilization. We have monitored its colonization over the past couple of years and here are just a few examples of what we saw this time: Colt’s-foot in flower and seed, 10-spot Ladybird, and our first site record of the rather anomalous moth Dahlica triquetella. This is a parthenogenetic bagworm moth, known in Britain only as wingless females that spend almost every moment of their life in their distinctive triangular bag, a silken structure decorated with bits of grit from their environment and inedible bits of the insects that form at least part of their diet. A fascinating end to a fine morning’s walk.

 

 

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: March goes out like a lamb…

It was the last day of the month, and the day dawned mizzly. When I arrived in the Gardens, it had stopped drifting down from the cloud, but moisture had congealed on every surface, mercurial drops turning every leaf into a work of art.

As the air dried out so the spring flowers perked up; only two weeks since my previous visit, but the whole floral palette had changed. Spring happens so quickly when the weather allows, a whole unfurling package of distinct microseasons, just a few days each.

Two plants for me were particularly noteworthy. The dramatic parasitic Purple Toothwort had erupted next to the Willow Room, and several of the damper borders were laced with a lime filigree of Town-hall-clock. One of my favourite unassuming native woodland plants, where else can it be seen bringing the sense of wildwood into our daily lives?

Birds were at their spring-singing best, with the first Blackcap joining the many Chiffchaffs, and up to half-a-dozen vocal males of both Chaffinch and Greenfinch. And in complete contrast, small groups of both Grey-lag Geese and Egyptian Geese flew over squawking.

After the dampening, it took the insects a while to become active, but the still warmth coaxed a few out. Two plants are the superstar attractors at this moment. Firstly, there is Skimmia, each plant producing a pool of sublime scent in the still, moist air, attractive to us, but also crucially also to pollinators, especially bumblebees and blowflies.

And then Euphorbia! So many different species and cultivars now in flower. All recognisably spurges, with their unique inflorescence structure known as a cyathium…

… but each with a different suite of shapes and colour of the obvious nectar glands.

And they really pull in the insects of all sorts, open inflorescences with lots of pollen and masses of nectar that are now doing the heavy lifting of feeding our insects. There were ladybirds everywhere…

… soggy solitary bees …

… and flies of all sorts, including several hoverflies, including a pair of Platycheirus: P. albimanus and P. scutatus.

For me Euphorbia is one of the most valuable, but overlooked, genera for insects in the garden, with one or more forms flowering almost throughout the year. Is ‘Euphorbiophile’ a real word? If so, I am one of them!

The far out west (of East Anglia!) – Ashdon & Bartlow

The far north-west of Essex has long been a bit of a mystery to me, so it was good last week when the chance arose to explore awhile before giving a talk to the Ashdon Gardening Club. Barely 15km from the hi-tech heart of the country, Cambridge, Ashdon does feel very out of the way. Nestled by the river Granta, and seemingly without any mobile signal, it is enveloped in the chalkscape of the greater Chilterns. The chalk heights reach their Essex peak at Chrishall (147m) west of the M11, but rolling hills clad in chalky boulder clay extend the foothills eastwards.

On the hill high above the town is a fine windmill, reached after a bit of a nervous drive a few hundred metres up a single track road with bends and high hedges. But least there is a carpark at the top!

Ashdon Windmill, recently restored to working order by the local community, was built in 1757 and operated commercially until 1912, after which it went through several cycles of dereliction and repair.

On the windswept peak (at just over 100 metres altitude) is obviously a good place for a windmill, and also to get a feel for the well-wooded, farmed landscape, the fields often featuring Fallow Deer.

Back down in the village, the church was worth a visit, in a fine setting with the historic Vicarage and Guildhall, now well away from the heart of the village, perhaps a shift in response to the Black Death.

Then it was up the road a short way to the village of Bartlow. Now entirely within the county of Cambridgeshire, until a boundary review last century the land to the south of the River Granta was the last outpost of Essex. Indeed, about five kilometres to the east, I noticed that the three counties of Essex, Cambridgeshire and Suffolk converge, and wondered briefly if it would worth hunting the join. Then I looked at the satellite photo, showing it among a slew of arable fields, and had second thoughts. After all, having straddled the Equator and the Greenwich meridian, I realise that artificial lines have no lasting meaning!

Bartlow Church was also worth a visit, although fairly unremarkable inside; it is one of just two Cambridgeshire churches with round towers. And that tower is the oldest part of current church, dating back to perhaps the late 11th century.

In the afternoon heat, the churchyard was buzzing with life. Patches of Red Dead-nettles, Primroses and Sweet Violets were in full bloom, attracting Peacock butterflies, while Brimstones and Dark-edged Beeflies were everywhere, and Nursery-web Spiders were out basking on many a leaf.

The Primrose patches included one plant with slightly darker flowers and flowers raised on a common stalk. That might suggest Oxlip, perhaps the most iconic plant of the borderlands of Cambridgeshire, Suffolk and Essex, but it wasn’t quite right. From closer examination it appeared to be one of the ‘False Oxlip’ Primula hybrids, most likely Primrose x Cowslip.

Then it was south across the Granta into ‘old Essex’, over the old railway line (sadly closed as recently as 1967) until the distinctive looming shapes of the Bartlow Hills hove into view. A series of three large Roman tumuli, these are the visitable part of a group of seven earthworks, of which the remainder have been much reduced in height.

For a long time erroneously associated with King Cnut and the dead from the Battle of Assandun in 1016, subsequent excavation has demonstrated them to be the grave-mounds from a wealthy family of the 1st or 2nd century AD. Apparently all manner of artefacts were recovered, including large wooden chests, decorated vessels in bronze, glass and pottery and an iron folding chair, most of which were lost in a fire at Bartlow Hall.

The tallest mound, at 15 metres in height, is claimed as the largest Roman barrow north of the Alps, and well worth the slog up the steps. And following me up was a very special insect, a male Black Oil-beetle Meloe proscarabaeus. In Essex we know this only from a few sea walls and sand dunes, and on the NBN map it appears this is its only Cambridgeshire site, apart from a couple of spots on the edge of the Fens.

From the top you can peer down into modern Essex, and contemplate the changes over time. For me as a botanist, that includes the losses of our native plants. Bartlow Hills is justly famed as the only Essex locality for the beautiful Pasqueflower, apparently just now coming into flower on time (‘Pasque’ in Old French = ‘Easter’) in its heartlands. Sadly, however no longer on Bartlow Hills: it was last seen there around the start of the 20th century, just at the time the land on which the hills stand was reassigned to Cambridgeshire.

 

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: Spring is unleashed…!

There comes a time every spring when one suddenly realises that whatever the vagaries of the British weather, spring is here to stay. The tipping point is sometimes as early as the start of March, but in other years it can be a good month later. In 2026 it seems to have come right in the middle of those extremes.

While the first two weeks of March saw a few glimmers of warmth, the overall impression was of cool days, sometimes breezy, damp (if not as downright wet as the preceding winter) and the occasional snatch of welcome sun. When Jude and I visited in the first week, it was misty and grey all day, rather chilly, and mist turning to fog in the afternoon. So we weren’t really expecting to see much in the way of insect life, and most of what we did find – masses of Seven-spot Ladybirds – were well hunkered-down or wrapped in a fur coat like this Common Earwig…

Of course Jude with her incredibly acute close vision also found some noteworthy stuff, including two colour-forms of Ten-spot Ladybird. Although this is one of the commoner British species, remarkably it seems to be the first time it has been found in the garden, at least according to our as yet incomplete biolisting. The two-spotted form was sharing a cosy niche with an Acorn Weevil and a spider.

Also new for the records, certainly overlooked in the past, was the moss Bryum capillare, its spore capsules standing bright and proud in the gloom.

And the same comments apply to the first record from the garden of a Yew gall caused by the fly Taxomyia taxi. This may be present wherever there is Yew, in gardens, parks and the wild, but it seems always to be under-recorded: the Essex Field Club map has only two spots on it.

Almost apologetically in the mirk the really special spring flowers like species daffodils and tulips were starting to appear. And Chiffchaffs were singing, probably newly in from their Mediterranean wintering sites, carried here a little prematurely by the Sahara-dust-laden winds at the end of February.

But two weeks later it was a very different picture. A couple of warm sunny days saw spring unleashed into the lives and hearts of a myriad of happy, smiling visitors. The Chiffchaffs, now perhaps half-a-dozen, expressed the joy of the season very effectively. As did two singing Stock Doves, the first time I have noticed territorial behaviour in the garden, and (now I come to think of it) possibly the first Stock Doves I have ever recorded there. Adding to the chorus were Chaffinches, at least three male Goldcrests and a Green Woodpecker in song, along with the mewling calls of displaying Buzzards overhead.

Four species of butterfly were on the wing: Comma, Peacock, Red Admiral and a rapid fly-past couple of male Brimstones. All species that overwinter as adults, it won’t be long before the spring-emergers like Orange Tips are with us!

Bees too, with bumbles (Buff-tailed and Red-tailed queens, the latter for me the first of the year) and lots of Honeybees especially on Skimmia ‘Kew Green’ and Scilla  bifolia.

The Scilla was also the focus for many solitary bees, including Andrena dorsata and A. minutula agg.

Ladybirds were everywhere, as seems to be the norm this year, AND now getting active, strutting their stuff as predators, pollinators and partners; most were Seven-spots with just a few Harlequins.

Several Dark-edged Beeflies were feeding or resting around the flowery borders: the first beeflies of spring are always a thrill!

And shieldbugs were also out in force, mostly Green Shieldbugs greening up nicely out of their brown winter plumage, together with a few Hairy Shieldbugs.

As with the previous visit, there were also new records for the Gardens. A couple of very common species whose names have seemingly evaded being written down anywhere in the past were the Common Pond-skater Gerris lacustris and the ink-cap fungus Coprinellus micaceus, equally common although of course only fleetingly visible when its fruiting bodies emerge.

On Anemone blanda there was the distinctive stripy Orange-legged Furrow-bee Halictus rubicundus, new to the garden and indeed with only a few records, mostly coastal, in the Tendring district.

And an exciting new bug for the garden was the ground- bug Graptopeltus lynceus. This is traditionally associated with Echium species but seems increasingly to be moving to other Boraginaceae, of which we have lots; it was very close to a flowering patch of Trachystemon. It is classed as Rare in Essex, with just eight scattered records, the nearest being one just west of Colchester.

And of course spring flowers of every description, no hint of apology now and a wonderful pick-me-up after a dreary old winter!

Beth Chatto Gardens, THE place to be at this time of year. Where else would you find Lesser Celandines blooming in the lawns rather than being hounded out as ‘weeds’? Do visit, and help Rewild your Minds.

The Wild Side of Essex: Spring on the Colne Estuary

‘Spring’ perhaps more in theory than practice! It may have been mid-March, but the very cool breeze searing across the estuary and grey skies for much of the day made it feel like a return to winter. And as a reflection of the very wet winter past, another theme of the day was mud, especially on the clays lower down, as opposed to the Thames sands and gravels that cap the Essex Alps. But Naturetrek groups carry on regardless!

Starting around Ferry Marsh, all was quiet apart from the whispering churrs of Long-tailed Tits and angry chatter of a couple of Cetti’s Warblers, as so often only briefly glimpsed.

Down at the river upstream of Wivenhoe, the tide was falling away and the exposed mud supported Redshanks and Oystercatchers, with Black-tailed Godwits and Teals feeding in the shallows, and a Little Egret on the saltmarsh.

Along Wivenhoe waterfront, a chance to explore the changing socioeconomic trends that have shaped the town over the past fifty years ago as well as the eternal struggle against surge tides, the now-familiar rare plants were all present: Jersey Cudweed, Four-leaved Allseed and White Ramping-fumitory. Only the latter had flowers, but what a show!

Below the Barrier and into the wider estuary, more of the same waders, including a large flock of 400 or so Black-tailed Godwits, and the first few Curlews. But no smaller species, nor any Avocets: presumably these were hunkered down out of the biting wind in a more sheltered creek. But there were good numbers of Shelduck wading through the sloppy mud, single Cormorant and Great Crested Grebe fishing in the channel and Buzzards circling over the woods.

Along the seawall, especially on the warmer, south-facing slope, Hairy Bittercress and Red Dead-nettle were flowering, the latter a magnet for the few queen bumblebees foraging, making the most of their fur coats to be active when no other insects were.

As soon as we got into the shelter of Grange Wood, the temperature rocketed, and the first of several Chiffchaffs started to sing, probably ones that arrived along with Sahara dust last week. The Silver Birch trees were covered in Birch Bracket fungi, while on windblown twigs there were both Orange Brain Fungus and Stereum hirsutum.

Cherry-plum flowers were just past their peak, while those of Blackthorn were just starting to burst. A precocious Rhododendron was in full flower and the first Alexanders flowers were erupting, soon to become the most important insect forage before the full flush of spring.

And the shady pools were just crying out for Beavers!

For lunch we were back in the chill wind, but rewarded with flocks of Wigeons and Brent Geese, with a trio of Mute Swans surprisingly grazing on the saltmarsh. A Red Kite, presumably one of the local breeders, drifted low overhead and Skylarks were singing from the fields, bringing the promise of spring even in the teeth of an icy wind.

Heading up the hill to the top of the Essex Alps, moving from clay to gravel, we passed numerous vast pollards and coppice stools, mostly Oak but also Holly, boundary features of the ancient wood and the old trackway of Cutthroat Lane. Celandines were flowering, along with the very first Bluebells, amid the sprouting spring greens of Garlic Mustard and (more menacingly) Hemlock.

A Great Spotted Woodpecker and Jay showed themselves briefly along the lane, above large patches of fruiting, presumably ancient, Butcher’s Broom. And in the open at the end of the lane, acid-green in the verge highlighted a patch of Early Meadow-grass. Although we have known this plant close to the tide for the past five or so years, this is the first time I have found it inland round here.

Heading into Cockaynes Reserve, the volume of bird song increased, with Robins, Great Tits and Chiffchaffs featuring prominently. Sallow and Alder flowers were out, along with luxuriant Gorse, attracting numerous bees and flies.

The lichen heath seems to get more extensive every time I visit, and the Bunny Bee colony was coming to life in the admittedly weak sunshine, while a Little Grebe sang from the gravel pits and Long-tailed Tits seemed to be prospecting for a nest site.

Then through Villa Wood, a magnificent showing of Scarlet Elf-cups, highlighting the feature without which probably the reserve would never have come into being.

Heading back along the crest of the hill, the pastureland was graced not by the usual pair of Egyptian Geese, but three pairs and a singleton. From there the verges of Ballast Quay Lane were in fine flower, including Sweet Violets and the first few Three-cornered Leeks. Crossing Wivenhoe Brook, a peep over the parapet showed the continued presence of Water Crickets, the only local place I know for this bug.

Bringing us at the end of of a great day’s walk to Old George, our ‘celebrity’ old Oak tree. Chance for me to relate the saga of despair and hope, one which should never have happened but for the avarice of the insurance company and the acquiescence of the Town Council in contriving to hide from scrutiny the ‘evidence’ by which it has been condemned. Fortunately now, at great expense to the Protectors (and more still needed!), his future now lies in the reasoned hands of the High Court…

#WildEssex: A Glorious Spring Walk to Cockaynes Reserve

We have often led a walk up to the Cockaynes Reserve searching for Spring, but never have we had such wonderful weather for it as yesterday. And it was only 3rd of March! Azure skies, light winds and warm sunshine were just what we needed after the grim, grey gloom of February.

And it seems nature needed it too as it was out in abundance. As we walked up Ballast Quay Lane, starting with the customary chirrups of the gaggle of House Sparrows, the air was alive with Greenfinches singing/wheezing and Great Tits getting frisky, while the verges were blooming with Sweet Violets and Lesser Celandines.

And everywhere a rainbow of greens, from the dusty, dull, dark Ivy green to the vibrant emerald of fresh Hawthorn leaves and moss spore-capsules.

As we crossed the open fields, enjoying some of the best views of this part of the world from the top of the Essex Alps, Skylarks filled the air with exuberance as Rooks probed for grubs, and in the distance a couple of Egyptian Geese grazed. Red Dead-nettle, Common Field Speedwell and Bulbous Buttercup flowers were shining among the twinkling Daisies and Dandelions.

Turning into Villa Wood alongside Sixpenny Brook, we entered a moss-clad world, the haunt of our Scarlet Elf-cups, the reason this reserve exists. Perhaps not so many as last year’s bumper haul, but they were there, mantled in mossy green,  and maybe still more to come.

Spring is a time of rapid change but also delayed gratification: the spearing shoots of Bluebells will be transforming this woodland floor in six weeks or so:

Sibilant twitterings in the Alder tops revealed a party of at least 20 Siskins, and the first of half-a-dozen Chiffchaffs sang, surely new arrivals on the recent deep southerlies laden with Sahara dust.

Hazel flowers, always the pre-Christmas first sign of the Spring to come, going over, and the Big Bud galls starting to form; Alder catkins peaking with Silver Birch still to come;  Sallow pompoms just bursting, attracting numerous bees; and Cherry-plum in full flower with Blackthorn bud-burst perhaps a couple of weeks away: Nature’s Calendar in full flow!

Onto the heath, the glorious Gorse flowers hid the glistening nuggets of Gorse Shield-bugs, so well camouflaged among the emerging buds. Queen bumblebees bumbled through the flowers, and there were Seven-spot Ladybirds everywhere. Much more numerous than I have ever seen before at this time of year, these are presumably the offspring from last July’s mega-influx.

Basking on a fencepost nearby was what may be an early Gorse Mining-bee, along with a pugnacious Zebra Jumping-spider, ready to take us all on! The bee bank was teeming with Bunny Bees, one of the key features of this reserve, and especially pleasing as only a day previously, on my recce in similar sunshine, I had seen just a couple.

Two lots of Buzzards were overhead, mewling in display flight and carrying nesting material, while a female Marsh Harrier quartered the reedy willow scrub.

Several pairs of Long-tailed Tits seemed to be setting up territory and there were fleeting flypasts of both Peacock and Red Admiral, though no sign of yesterday’s Comma, my first butterfly of the year. Nor were there any of the Hairy Shield-bugs on show: such is the excitement and unpredictability of the natural world. But the final reward for we two leaders was back in town, just after the last of our group peeled away, the most vibrant male Brimstone crossing our path …

 

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: February is the LONGEST month!

February continued the pattern of the preceding winter: rain, lots of it, and grey gloom. So while I like to get into the gardens to witness the arrival of spring, in practice that meant only two occasions, early and late in the month. Such was the lack of spring-ushering sunlight that the three week difference saw rather little change in nature.

At the time of my first visit, Winter Aconites, Spring Snowflakes and most Snowdrops were pretty much at their peak, albeit without the sunshine to open the flowers fully. Anyway it was too dank for insects to be flying …

Three weeks later, Snowdrops and Aconites were mostly past their best, but it was time for the lovely, endlessly varied Hellebores to pick up the floral baton:

And Daffodils, Squills and Crocuses were coming up fast in the outside lane, the latter with numerous queen Buff-tailed Bumblebees, bumbling out of torpor for a welcome meal in the weak sun.

More than I’ve ever seen before at this time of year, presumably related to last July’s bumper influx and favourable overwinter conditions, Seven-spot Ladybirds were out, crawling and trawling for aphids.

Harking back to midwinter, every Sarcococca sat in its own pool of olfactory pleasure…

… and trunks and branches showed off their lichens and mosses, so much easier to appreciate in the full light before bud-burst:

Skylarks were singing over the surrounding fields and Dabchicks diving on the Reservoir, while Robins, Blue and Great Tits, and at least five male Chaffinches serenaded the spring.  And as if on cue, the next in the line of flowers were bursting through, a blossoming that will grow inexorably over the next few months:

How quickly spring will arrive depends on the weather over the next few weeks, but come it will. And whatever, the garden is always visit, whether in rain or shine!

BOOK REVIEW Turnstones and Turtle Doves by Jenny Coumbe

Turnstones and Turtle Doves: nature-watching in an Essex parish, Jenny Coumbe (New Generation Publishing, 2025) ISBN: 978-1-83563-919-1 £12.99

Everybody needs a sense of place, and every place needs people to have that sense, to love and nurture it, enjoy it and help keep it safe from the ravages of modern life. That is just what Jenny Coumbe has done here for a small part of the Tendring Peninsula in Essex, the area around her home. It is an area I know well, especially from a couple of decades ago and it is a pleasure to find out that much of what I remember still remains.

The book starts with a few pages of Foreword, well-written prose that evokes well the author’s hopes that the readers will take inspiration and look at their local patches in the way she has. And add natural colour to their lives in doing so.

In fact, the Foreword is so evocative that the short-form writing style of the bulk of the book could be seen as disappointing, an opportunity missed. Arranged as a series of short paragraphs grouped by season and spanning six years, the writing is sparse. But as the introduction explains, they originated as extracts from nature diary entries. A more familiar description today may be that they are like a series of self-contained tweets (other social media platforms are available!).

Others may complain that the information therein is not quantitative, and thus has limited ‘scientific’ use. But that is also to miss the point. Consider parallels with the mass observation programme of the 1940s in which ‘ordinary’ people captured the details of their ‘ordinary’ lives as the first citizen social scientists, leaving an unparalleled archive of a time of great post-war upheaval.

Well, nature is at that pivotal moment right now, where what we have all grown up with may not be available to our descendants, our children and grandchildren. And if they don’t know about it will they ever want to recover it? Anything we can do to foster desires to challenge Shifting Baseline Syndrome has to be a good thing.

This lovely little book, with well chosen photos by the author and Nick Levene, fills an essential gap between the hopes for, and the reality of, the natural world. It is a gentle beacon of hope in an uncertain world, as well as an advert for that most maligned of counties, Essex. Nothing links each short paragraph, other than the season and location. There is no attempt to curate the entries into stories:  it just lets the reader create their own mental world. Read it right through in one sitting, or dip into it at will, there is no ‘best way’ of enjoying it.

Turnstones and Turtle Doves is an unashamedly modest book that can hold its head high on the local interest and natural history shelves of any bookshop. It epitomises the glorious unexpected, the wealth of change and events that give meaning to the life of any naturalist. Inspiration indeed!

Paperback available online £12.99, e-book at £4.99. Also available from Wrabness Community Shop and Red Lion Books, Colchester.

 

Beth Chatto Outreach Sites: insects of the Meanwhile Garden & Chattowood

Working with the Beth Chatto team gives me all sorts of opportunities to explore the wildlife of gardens, not only the actual Beth Chatto Gardens, but also other gardens in which we have an interest. Below are two blogs I wrote for the Beth Chatto website in January 2026 relating to survey work I have undertaken at Colchester’s Meanwhile Garden and Chattowood, respectively.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

Original post: Wildlife at the heart of the City: Colchester’s Meanwhile Garden

 

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

The county of Essex, much maligned, has a rich diversity of wildlife and wild places, with its coastlines and ancient woodlands widely recognised as of the greatest priority and value. But a close third to these are its brownfield sites, a legacy of the proximity to London and a gentle topography, ripe for development.

‘Brownfield’ or ‘previously developed’, call them what you will except ‘wasteland’. These places are anything but wasteland, full of wildlife, and bringing the benefits and joys of green into the lives of anyone who lives nearby, especially important to those of limited mobility.

Brownfield sites come and go with the ebb and flow of development, abandonment and redevelopment. Each is unique as a response to its history and locality. Each contains a unique mix of plants species, a multicultural mix of plants from around the world, that generally arrive under their own steam (eg members of the daisy family and willowherbs with long-distance wind-dispersal) or emerge spontaneously from a long-buried seed bank.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

The latest addition to the ranks of Essex brownfields is the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden in Colchester. For many years a bus station, when demolished it became an area of urban rewilding. But then a partnership between Colchester City Council and Beth Chatto Gardens saw the arrival of the gardening influence, to enrich it botanically for human and insect visitors alike, and to hold back the march of monoculture (especially buddleja and ailanthus) which would overwhelm its open sunny biodiversity in a matter of years if left unchecked.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden
Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

To some eyes it may not look much like a garden: bare ground, rubble, twisted and rusting metal, a mix of planted specimens and things that have just moved themselves in. But that’s Nature for you, and why should the ‘trimmed and tidied, primped and preened’ look be seen as desirable compared with this unplanned urban jungle full of life?

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

The summer of 2025 represented the first full summer of the Meanwhile Garden since its creation in 2024. We followed its colonisation by insect and invertebrate life with monthly visits from April to September in fine weather. Each visit was only an hour long so this must be regarded as only scratching the surface of its biodiversity, a series of spot-surveys that nevertheless revealed lots of interest.

Any new habitat has to be colonised, and unless it is right next door to an existing habitat, insects are more likely to find it if they are powerful fliers. Many butterflies and moths are therefore good colonisers, and included Painted Lady among the array of summer butterflies, attracted especially to Buddleja davidii, often known as Butterfly-bush.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

Moth colonists included three species with very distinctive caterpillars. The black-and-yellow-spotted Mullein Moth is common everywhere, while the Toadflax Brocade, more stripy but a similar colour pattern, is a relatively recent recolonist of the UK, and a specialist of brownfield sites and gardens in the south-east. Similarly the green Small Ranunculus, wonderfully camouflaged among the dead flowers of its foodplant prickly lettuce: extinct in the middle of the 20th century but now on brownfield sites across southern Britain.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

Given the lack of water in the Meanwhile Garden, all damselflies must have come some distance from their breeding ponds and rivers. We found two species, the Common Blue Damselfly (below) and Azure Damselfly.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

But not everything flies so well. Take spiders: they have no wings. But there were plenty around the garden in the first summer, presumably having arrived on the wind as spiderlings, ballooning on silken strands. Three of the species we found were the Zebra Jumping-spider, Cucumber Spider and Gorse Orbweaver, the latter more typically associated with heathlands.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

Bagworms are moths that spend most of their lives in a silk bag adorned with bits of their environment. Indeed females spend all their life in the bag. So they don’t fly. Grasshoppers can fly but not far, so to find three species suggests they have come from a nearby grassland. And Firebugs, another new arrival in the UK, are generally wingless. So how did these get to this brand-new site? Of course, there are lots of people passing by and through the garden, so it may be that the visitors inadvertently bring hitchhikers on their footwear or clothing.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

Visiting the flowers throughout the summer were many bees and wasps, attracted especially to the plants introduced by the Beth Chatto team. The selection below includes rare species, some brownfield specialists, and all are pollinators: particular note should be made of the Spined Mason Bee, Little Blue Carpenter Bee, and Pantaloon Bee, all of which are very scarce in the county, found mainly in the Thames-side brownfields. Bee Wolf was similarly rare until its recent explosive spread northwards, fuelled by climate change. All could well be breeding around the site, but one we know certainly is, the also-scarce Four-banded Flower-bee, taking advantage of the bee-hotel.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

I could go on through all other taxonomic groups – flies, beetles, bugs and the rest – and pick out special features of the garden in the same detail as the above. But suffice to say that in its first summer, Colchester’s Meanwhile Garden was packed with biodiversity, species both common and rare, many specialists of brownfield habitats and many that have benefited from climate change and are spreading northwards using these stepping stones in the landscape. The insects are using all members of the brownfield plant community, the showy garden plants especially for nectar and pollen and the spontaneous flora as larval food plants.

Our final sighting to mention is one of the most surprising to us. July 2025 will be long remembered for the almost unprecedented influx of ladybirds and hoverflies to coastal Essex, probably from the continent. Sadly, the influx which lasted about a week didn’t coincide with one of our surveys. But two weeks later we could still see its remnants, with Seven-spot and Harlequin Ladybirds in abundance (although the latter seemed not to feature among the hordes of incomers).

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

But what attracted our attention was the number of a much smaller beastie, Adonis’ Ladybird. This is another scarce species in Essex, and one that seems to be concentrated close to the Thames, on brownfield sites and arable margins. Prior to this visit we had seen only a bare handful ever in Essex, and the first record from Beth Chatto Gardens was during the influx two weeks earlier. But in the Meanwhile Garden we found dozens, in the July and two subsequent surveys. Most were found on Fennel and Teasel, conveniently at eye-level, but they were everywhere. Will this be carried over to the second full summer? We hope to find out, continuing these surveys for the whole of the coming summer. And we do expect to see changes, some species lost, others appearing: the dynamic lifeblood at the heart of brownfield biodiversity.

Wildlife at the heart of the City: the Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden

 

The Beth Chatto Meanwhile Garden is a brownfield site like no other, at the interface between natural urban habitat development and gardening. We have no idea how long it will last: the idea of a Meanwhile Garden is that it represents a productive use of an area of land that may ultimately be destined for development. If it ends up being lost, that would be a sad loss for the city centre, but we can at least be happy that the site has pulled its weight for the natural world in the interregnum, and formed an inviting, attractive talking point about the way we want our urban surroundings to look.

Chris & Jude Gibson (with thanks to other occasional surveyors – David Gates, Eleanor Mucklow and Angie Reid)

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

Original post: Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

Some of our readers may have seen the Beth Chatto Gardens outreach site Chattowood recently on BBC Gardeners’ World (catch up here). When, some five years ago, a neighbouring developer wanted to use the name ‘Chattowood’ for a new housing estate, Julia (Beth’s granddaughter) agreed on condition that they worked with us on the landscaping for the estate.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Chattowood sits atop the same ridge of low hills as our garden, so we had a useful model to work towards. In our garden, Beth and Andrew came up with the concept of ‘Right Plant, Right Place’, using plants suited to the soil and climate conditions to minimise the need for further intervention, especially here in the arid south-east the need to avoid having to waste water on droughty soils.

Unfortunately, although lying on the same underlying geology, London Clay with a capping of Thames gravels, the recent agricultural history of the Chattowood site meant it was covered in a veneer of excessively fertile topsoil, really out of character if what you are seeking to something akin to Beth’s revolutionary Gravel Garden.

So the first thing was to lose the topsoil, stripping off some 30cm, and replace the same depth with locally quarried sharp sand and gravel, effectively making the place ‘right’ so that the ‘right plants’ could be brought in, based upon a palette of those in our Gravel Garden. One key requirement was drought-tolerance, another was attractiveness (to us – these are in effect front gardens) and the final one, benefits to wildlife, especially attractiveness to pollinators and other insects.

All that was needed then was for the garden management to be taken out of the hands and vagaries of individual householders, and Chattowood was born. As the Gardeners’ World piece showed, this is turning out to be broadly popular among the owners, some having even taken to try and replicate this in the back gardens they still control! The gardens look good with flowers throughout the year (see plant list), without any need for watering, even in drought conditions, and so resting lightly on the world in respect of its ecological footprint.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

At the outset we realised this could be an important template for future development, at least in similar climate zones, so we set about trying to evaluate the importance of these gardens for wildlife. It just happens that immediately adjacent is a ‘traditional’ estate, all mown grass and lollipop trees, an ideal comparison against which to judge the success (or otherwise) of the Chattowood approach.

Since the first planting I have been monitoring the use of the Chattowood gardens by insects in side-by-side comparison with the next door estate. I spend the same time in each estate, logging everything larger than a ladybird, and identifying it where possible without interrupting the flow of the survey, trying to do each estate in 20 minutes to reduce the degree of double-counting of often very mobile insects.

This is not so much a biodiversity survey (which would have taken much more time to ensure correct identifications) but a bioabundance survey. While everyone is, or should be, concerned about biodiversity loss (ie extinctions), the lower abundance of life we are seeing is just as concerning. Remember that your average Blue Tit won’t mind if it eats one or ten species of aphid, so long as it gets enough to eat! Arguably, it is bioabundance, not biodiversity, that underpins all food chains, including those that support our own species.

A high level overview of the surveys shows most importantly a constant, significant imbalance between the Chatto-style gardens and the adjacent traditional front gardens. It would appear that there are typically ten times as many macroinvertebrates (mostly pollinators) on our side of the divide. I think it may be best not to pay too much heed to the data from 2022 which indicated an even greater imbalance as surveys were undertaken that year only after midsummer.

year surveys total number of larger insects in Chattowood total number on the other side, the traditional estate ratio Chattowood: traditional
2022 6 (19 Aug-22 Sept) 120 6 20:1
2023 6 (17 Apr – 4 Sept) 233 28 8.3:1
2024 7 (7 Apr – 17 Sept) 240 25 9.6:1
2025 6 (24 Apr – 19 Sept) 426 39 10.9:1

The message is clear: plant the right plant in the right place and it will reward not just us but also the natural world. And what are the right plants in this context? Clearly this will vary across the country, but here in Essex, salvia, oenothera, verbena, lavandula, buddleja and santolina seem favoured and these should be suitable in most areas provided that free draining ground has been created to avoid the roots becoming waterlogged.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

The broad data also show clearly how much better 2025 was across the board than either of the two previous years. On the Chatto side, there were some 75% more, while on the other side of the great divide there were around 50% more, although it must be recognised that sampling effort was not exactly consistent between years. This pattern was widely repeated everywhere, so we cannot claim it as one of the successes of Chattowood!

The vast majority of the larger insects attracted to Chattowood were pollinators, species that habitually trawl around the landscape to find flowers with appropriate nectar and/or pollen resources. Just over a half of the thousand or so counted in my surveys were bumblebees, of at least five species. Another 15% were honeybees, with 5% solitary bees.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Flies made up about one-tenth of all observations, half of which were hoverflies with the remainder from a range of families.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Of course many of the most showy insects are butterflies and moths, whose numbers together made up just 5% of all observations. A total of nine species of butterfly were observed, together with two noticeable day flying moths, hummingbird hawk-moth and mint moth.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

With the passage of time it has been noticeable that the number of ground nesting insects has increased in the older Chattowood plantings: I suspect that as a crust has developed on the surface of the sand nest holes don’t collapse. Three species at least colonized from 2024 onwards: bee-wolf, ivy bee and sand wasp. The first two are not too surprising given that they have undergone significant spread from southern regions in recent decades due to climate change, but the sand wasp is different. It has always been found in appropriately sandy areas, for example along the Suffolk coast and around Tiptree Heath, but is not known in the Beth Chatto Gardens nor anywhere nearer than maybe five kilometres’ radius from Elmstead Market. It just goes to show that these habitat-specific creatures are moving around our landscape, often much more than we imagine, and that if we provide the right habitat, so they will find it.

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Our garden staff also reported finding earthworm casts on the pure sand in autumn 2025, and fungi growing out of it. Both are significant, indicating that organic matter is collecting in the upper layers, perhaps related to the crust that allows bees and wasps to nest. The bare sand is developing an ecology: what lies beneath the surface is adding complexity and life. The gardens are still changing, and changing for the better for wildlife, and as long as there is something to learn I shall be out there counting!

Chattowood is a tribute to Julia’s vision and persuasiveness, the hard work of the Beth Chatto and Lanswood teams and the forbearance of the householders, and provides a vision of a sustainable future for gardens and housing developments, especially living in the global greenhouse. What an antidote to the sterile, ecopathic trend for ‘plastic grass’ and the like!

Chattowood and its insects: the first four years

 

Dr Chris Gibson, Beth Chatto Gardens’ Wildlife Advocate

 

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens, awakening from winter slumber

In midwinter, the Beth Chatto Gardens get a well-deserved rest. No visitors for a month, while the staff get on with essential maintenance and preparing for the growing season to come.

So I thought a visit would be in order to see if and how the birds around the garden are responding to the relative lack of disturbance. Aside from a few more Mallards on the ponds, though, I could see and hear very little difference: Robins and Song Thrushes in full spring song, along with Blue and Great Tits constituting the bulk of the soundscape.

High in the treetops, bands of Fieldfares and Redwings were on the search for ripe berries, while finches foraged in the seedheads still standing proud in the borders and beds.

It really seems that the birds we share the space with are not significantly impacted by our presence: the human garden visitors are respectful of nature and significantly because the visitors do not come trailing dogs, the greatest disturbance factor of all.

What I was hoping to see was the Otter that was reported by the garden staff a few days earlier, the first time one has been seen there. Alas no, but I did see an unfamiliar mammal, a Muntjac in the Woodland Garden. Although very common in the surrounding area, I have never seen one before in the public part of the garden. This is very likely to reflect the month-long lack of disturbance. And of course if anything needs to be disturbed and displaced it is the voracious Muntjac!

So as the garden reopening approaches we can all think of visiting with a clear conscience! And what a treat is in store. The Snowdrops and Winter Aconites are coming up to their best…

… along with other winter-flowerers bursting into bloom for the first bees.

Blowflies were out already, taking advantage of the weak sunshine, and Seven-spot Ladybirds were just starting to become active, rousing from their winter clusters, ready to keep the plants free of aphids.

And it was also good to enjoy some of the unintentional garden delights, especially the lichens that are so easily overshadowed and overlooked at busier times of the year. On tree bark, there was Flavoparmelia caperata forming large patches, and the locally scarce Ramalina fastigiata forming several new clumps. Given that the latter was considered extinct in Essex in the 1970s due the the impacts of air pollution, this is very good news.

And much more widespread but surprisingly not recorded from the Gardens previously was the Trumpet Lichen Cladonia fimbriata, showed to me by the gardeners in the Scree Garden. I am so happy to have these interested eyes and ears on the ground!

The Gardens reopen on Tuesday February 3rd. Treat yourself to a breath of Spring!