Blog Archives: WildEssex

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

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

 

#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… 

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!

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: Spring starts here!

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

As the winter closure comes to an end, we can start looking forward again to the return of light and life.

And the early flowers are doing just that: from snowdrops and snowflakes, to daffodils and hellebores …

… and especially the ‘choirboys’: Winter Aconites with cheery faces surrounded by a ruff of lobed bracts. The yellow ‘petals’ are actually petal-like sepals, while the petals are tubular nectaries: the nectar they contain, together with pollen on the stamens, is the reason why whenever the sun is out, the Woodland Garden is abuzz with insects.

Not just low down – there are also small shrubs and low trees flowering, including Sarcococca, Cornelian-cherry and Spurge-laurel, all extravagantly scented to attract such insects as are active at this time of year.

And yes, there were insects out and about on my visit last week, mostly hoverflies and blowflies. A good number of Marmalade Hoverflies and a few Seven-spot Ladybirds, both major predators of aphids, bode well for the waves of munchers our garden will rely on over the coming summer.

Of course they can appear so quickly and so early only if they are able to hibernate nearby, which is where our policy of not being too tidy, or too quick to clear away the dead growth from last summer, comes into its own. And given the fact that we may not yet have seen the back of winter, hibernation sites need to be left in place for at least another month.

That is not to say that the team has been idle over the winter! Regular visitors will see one big change – the wooden kiosk has now gone – and the oak tree, THAT wonderful oak tree, a boundary pollard from ancient times can now breathe and be appreciated properly from every angle.

The wait is now over. The gardens re-open on Tuesday 4th February, and thereafter Tuesday – Saturday 10.00 – 16.00, and half price entry during February. Come along and see Spring unfold and enjoy the wildlife it brings with it! Tickets can be booked here: Entrance – Beth Chatto’s Plants & Gardens

See here for details of all my planned activities in Beth Chatto Gardens over the coming months: Beth Chatto Gardens – activities and events | Chris Gibson Wildlife

#WildEssex New Year Plant Hunt 2025

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

Each year, the Botanical Society of Britain & Ireland organises a New Year plant hunt, encouraging botanists and other interested folk out of their midwinter slumber to see what plants are flowering. And traditionally this has been our first #WildEssex event of the year, a walk around Wivenhoe Waterfront on New Year’s Day. Sadly not in 2025: as seems to be getting more frequent, we were subject to a severe weather alert for strong wind and heavy rain so for reasons of comfort and safety we took the decision to cancel.

All data collected in this citizen science project are fed into the national record of what is flowering at this time: for more information see New Year Plant Hunt – Botanical Society of Britain & Ireland (bsbi.org). It is good to be part of a bigger project to aid learning about how British and Irish wildflowers are responding to climate change, so it is fortunate we did a recce a couple of days prior to our planned walk, applying the same rules, and more or less following the same route as in previous years.

Our recce produced the ‘usual suspects’, shrubs that routinely flower in the depths of winter and annuals that flower at any time of year: Gorse, Hazel, White Dead-nettle, Groundsel, Annual Mercury, Shepherd’s-purse, Hairy Bittercress, Sun and Petty Spurges and Common Chickweed were among those we found, together with Daisies and Dandelions sparkling sparsely in lawns. 

Some of the older walls and brickwork supported Mexican Fleabane, Trailing Bellflower and Ivy-leaved Toadflax, while other showy plants included Green Alkanet, Greater Periwinkle, Pot Marigold, Sweet Violet and Common Knapweed.  And it was quite a surprise to find Ivy flowers still open in places.

Along the waterfront itself, in the cracks of the block paving, Four-leaved Allseed is more abundant than it has ever been since its arrival here around the time of the pandemic, but try as we might we could not find any in actual flower. But other subtle flowers such as Guernsey Fleabane and Pellitory-of-the-wall made it onto our list after close scrutiny, a real test for my newly-decataracted eye! The rapidly spreading Water Bent also increases in abundance every year.

On the salt-marsh, a few Sea Aster flowers remained from late summer, and some spikes of Common Cord-grass dangled their naughty bits wantonly to the wind. But much more dramatic were the very numerous, huge fruiting bodies of Cord-grass Ergot, a fungus we found around here less than a decade ago and which now seems very prevalent.

Carrying on the seaside theme, three plants we have not recorded before on these forays are garden escapes that have put on their first flowering appearance outside the confines of cultivation: Sea Campion and Rock Samphire, native plants of sand and shingly beaches, and Sweet Alison, a familiar bedding plant, but often found wild in coastal areas, as reflected in its scientific name Lobularia maritima.

All in all, 37 species in flower represents a new high for us (see full list here New Year Day PLANT HUNT Year on year) compared with 34 in 2024, 23 in 2023, 35 in 2022 and 30 in 2021, although one should fall short of celebrating – many of these plants should not be flowering now, and are doing so only because of the harm we have inflicted upon our climate…

But our feeling was that while we saw more species in flower, there were fewer flowers of each species to be found: the landscape was much less floriferous, more akin perhaps ‘proper winters’ of decades past. I got exactly the same impression at Boxted the day previously where I led a village wildflower walk for the second New Year in succession.

There is of course another way of looking at it. Plants are not the only things responding to climate change: although we saw no insects being active in the dully, foggy weather of our walk, it is undeniable that fewer insects are hibernating than used to be the case. And year-round activity needs year-round nectar and pollen resources, so any insect-attracting flowers such as Gorse and dead-nettles are important, even in the context of much richer supplies inside our gardens, as for example the gorgeous, subtly showy blooms of Virgin’s-bower Clematis cirrhosa.

While there is a little turnover of species year upon year, in some way there is also comfort to be found in the litany of names, old friends in many cases, even down to actual individual plants, recited in a ritual that echoes that of the Shipping Forecast. In spite of our best efforts at self-destruction, the world still turns! Happy New Year!!

 

 

 

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: … and the year turns full circle

Beth Chatto Gardens, WildEssex, WildWivenhoe

After what feels like months of gloom, the sun came out for my final visit of the year to the Gardens, bathing the now-faded autumnal tints in light, bringing the promise of new life just around the corner.

And blue skies always serve to lift the spirits!

Foliage comes to the fore in a winter garden, whether it is the spent leaves being recycled or new shoots of vibrant greens …

… and made all the more festive with diamond droplets as adornment.

Seeds and berries too, feeding birds of all kinds, from flocks of Goldfinches to ravenous thrushes – Blackbirds, Redwings, Fieldfares and Mistle Thrushes all vying for their share of the fruit bonanza. Thankfully there is still plenty left for if and when the frost and snow sets in.

And flowers! There are the hangovers from autumn…

… the midwinter staples, sustaining the few insects still flying. Even in the weak sun, Mahonia was attracting social wasps, hoverflies and bluebottles.

 

… and the first harbingers of the spring to come. Just a week from the solstice and life will be returning!

So ends another year at Beth Chatto Gardens, each season tumbling inexorably after the previous. But for our native wildlife, insects in particular, it has not been an easy year across much of England. Whether to do with weirded weather, longer-term climate collapse, habitat losses or the post-war raindown of pesticides on our planet (or all of the above), insect populations have been lower than at any time in recent memory, which of course means birds, bats and other consumers have also suffered.

What is especially pleasing though is that the only place I have reliably been able to find good (albeit not great) numbers of insects this year has been in the Gardens. Of course, we have the luxury of space, to ensure continuity and complexity of provision of nectar, pollen and other food resources, water, breeding sites and shelter for wildlife. And we must be doing something right!

Most of us do not have that luxury of so much space, and so many hands to work it. But hopefully inspired by our example, some of us will make one change, some of us will make another. And the sum of us will then make the difference. I wish I could claim credit for this philosophical insight, but no – it comes from Manchester poet Tony Walsh, a poem for the pandemic – but the idea has such resonance across all fields of collective endeavour, it seems too good not to reuse it!

Anyone wanting to enjoy the Gardens in their winter plumage still have a last opportunity this next Thursday to Saturday before Christmas. Thereafter, opening every Tuesday to Saturday from 4th February 2025, and unless we are enveloped in snow, spring should be springing right from the start! Book your visit here: Entrance – Beth Chatto’s Plants & Gardens

The REALLY Wild Side of Essex with Naturetrek: a wind-lashed day round the Naze

Britain's Wildlife, WildEssex

It was a day of ferocious north-westerly wind, and as the Naze promontory is perched in the top right hand corner of Essex, we took the full brunt of it on our latest Wild Side of Essex day trip. Strong, gusty and cold, the wind-chilled temperature barely lifted above freezing, and given the wall-to-wall, dawn-’til-dusk lowering cloud, we were thankful at least it wasn’t raining!

The weather really suppressed bird activity. In the clifftop scrub, a couple of bands of Long-tailed Tits contained a few Blue Tits and Goldcrests, while Blackbirds and a single Song Thrush flew away in panic, presumably at seeing people on such an inhuman day. And even the usually reliably noisy Cetti’s Warblers could only muster a few staccato ‘chip’s.

Sadly it was the same on both the open foreshore and in the Backwaters, most wildfowl and waders no doubt seeking shelter well into the heart of the estuary. Just a sprinkling of Grey Plovers, Dunlins, Redshanks, Oystercatchers and Curlews showed their heads above the parapet, and even then the wind was too strong to hold binoculars still. Only the Brent Geese proved hardy (as befits their high Siberian breeding area), with some 500 seen in flocks at rest or being whisked past on the wind.

So it was left to the rest of the natural world to provide our wildlife fix for the day, at least those things unaffected by the wind. Gorse was looking splendid just heading to its peak flowering, in more clement weather the saviour of winter-emerging pollinators.

Lingering summer flowers included the very last Hog’s Fennel (a real  local speciality), Sea Mayweed on the sea wall and Sea Rocket on the low dunes.

On the saltmarsh, just a few Golden Samphire flowers remained, but we all got to savour the smell of the crushed leaves (more than a hint of diesel or shoe-polish). Similarly, Stinking Iris in the scrub edge, with bright orange berries was subjected to the scrunch-and-sniff test: this one roast beef or Bovril.

And despite the best efforts of the waves, Shrubby Seablite was still clinging on, thriving even, in adversity.

Lichens on tree bark are always fascinating, and the yellow Sunburst Lichens on Elder branches lived up to their name, a ray of light on a Grade A grey day….

Despite the freezing weather two weeks ago, grassland fungi were still coming up, especially Snowy Waxcaps, while growing out of seemingly most Cord-grass flower spikes were the horn-like fruiting bodies of Cord-grass Ergot.

Silver Birches also produced their share of the fungal interest, from Taphrina witches’-broom galls in the branches, to Birch Brackets (the nemesis of many a mature birch) and Turkey-tails on dead limbs.

And the of course wholly oblivious to the weather there was the geology of the cliffs and fossils on the beach, telling tales of ancient subtropical lagoons, distant volcanos, continental collisions, the meandering Thames, climatic instability, periglacial dust clouds and (right up to modern times) the erosive battle between land and sea…

All that and a spot of extreme picnicking, clustered in the shelter of a Blackthorn hedge, under an Evergreen Oak. What’s not to love about the Essex coast  at its most elemental!

For other planned Nturetrek days out with me, please visit my page on the Naturetrek website.