Blog Archives: WildEssex

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!

Tree walks in aid of the Old King George Oak

Last weekend we held two walks looking the trees of King George V playing field to raise funds for the legal protection of our Old King George Oak.

Identifying trees in winter is a bit like a jigsaw puzzle, using different elements of evidence that come together to reveal the full picture of its identity. But KGV is a great place to start looking, as it has some lovely specimens, such as the Evergreen Oak and Cedar of Lebanon below, originating from the landscaping around the former Wivenhoe Hall, echoes of a time now faded from memory.

Neither tree shape nor bark are definitively conclusive as to identification as bark changes as the tree ages, and shape is altered especially by management of the trees. But sometimes it a good start, whether the rounded canopy of an open-grown Pedunculate Oak, or the horizontally flattened sprays of the Cedar:

Then there are the hang-ups – dead leaves, fruits and galls still held on the tree from the summer past – and the dejecta, fallen leaves and fruits returning to the earth from which they sprang. Here there are fruits (keys) and flower galls of Ash, and the groundscape below Horse Chestnut:

And finally the details, the branching pattern and texture of the twigs and the size and shape of the buds, which in many cases are highly distinctive and definitive; the corky wings on the branches of many Field Elms and large brown sticky buds of Horse Chestnut…

… the small, rounded buds of Oak, clustered at the twigtips, and terminal, slender buds of Beech, pointing skywards…

… and Ash, its triplet of sooty buds borne on graceful, upswept branches.

So much to see by just taking time to look properly at even our most familiar trees. And there was so much more as well, including clumps of Mistletoe in the Buckeye crown, which on the second walk harboured a pair of Mistle Thrushes defending their precious food resource.

Robins regaled us in spring song throughout the walks and the sharp eyes of our younger wanderers found a glistening patch of the Crystal Brain fungus on a fallen Evergreen Oak branch.

The weather was good, the mood upbeat and with refreshments by the river provided by the trees’ wonderful supporters, we raised an incredible combined total of some £650! This is hugely important as the plight of Old King George is now at a critical stage. I last blogged about our tree last February Saving Wivenhoe’s Old King George Oak Tree | Chris Gibson Wildlife. Since then, everything has changed but nothing has changed: we have provided masses of expert data that demonstrate the trees are not the primary cause of subsidence and that there are better long-term solutions, but Aviva and Wivenhoe Town Council remain unmoved. And they are both refusing to share any data that they claim dictate the trees must be felled, a lack of transparency that seems at odds with the stated position of one and the Nolan principles of the other.

On the above basis, we were successful three weeks ago in getting an interim High Court injunction to prevent felling at this stage, but we now have to fight legally to make that stick. Aviva especially has very deep pockets. So please, if you agree with our position, I would really appreciate it if you could send this around any contacts and networks you have who may like to sign, share and support our campaign. Resources to fight the might of Aviva are very tight indeed.

It didn’t have to have been like this. We don’t want to see a community divided. We are not seeking to save the trees at all costs. We simply want to see the evidence by which they are condemned. The veil of secrecy is anathema to natural justice: to kill the tree while hiding the data that purportedly show it to be to blame is simply wrong, a grave miscarriage of justice.  As a scientist, facts and evidence are paramount to me.

See here Stop the Chop: Save Wivenhoe’s King George Oak | Urgent Action for a full recent update.

To finish, a message from one of our younger walkers, Aria-Rose, aged 7. She has more future than most of us, so let’s not ruin it for her. Please help us.

 

#WildEssex New Year Plant Hunt 2026

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, except as in 2025 when forecast bad weather dictated otherwise.

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 2026. It is important to be part of a bigger project to aid learning about how British and Irish wildflowers are responding to climate change.

New Year’s Day 2026 was certainly more clement than 2025, sunny although pretty cold, barely above freezing, or should we say ‘normally cold’ by the norms we grew up with… Our band of 15 friends accompanied Jude and I and our special helper, scribe, photographer and flowerfinder Eleanor as we wandered round the usual route in the standard hour. It produced a good number of the ‘usual suspects’, shrubs that routinely flower in the depths of winter such as Gorse (apart from the usual Hazel that had been cut back severely) and annuals that flower at any time of year if the previous few weeks have been mild (as they were last autumn), including Annual Mercury, Petty Spurge, Shepherd’s-purse and Annual Meadow-grass.

The few areas of permanent grass on our route had Daisies and Dandelions sparkling sparsely on them, together with Common Knapweed and Oxeye Daisy as a distant memory of the summer long gone, and Sweet Violet, the promise of spring. Along the fringes of the recreation area, Hedgerow Crane’s-bill was a new species for our NYPH list, as was Cut-leaved Dead-nettle, never very common in these parts, and growing alongside its more familiar relative, Red Dead-nettle, with more shallowly divided leaves and larger, darker flowers.

In the heart of the village, the older walls and brickwork supported Mexican Fleabane, Trailing Bellflower, Pellitory-of-the-wall and Ivy-leaved Toadflax, while it was quite a surprise to find Ivy flowers still open in places.

Along the waterfront itself, in the cracks of the block paving, our two specialists of this habitat, Four-leaved Allseed and Jersey Cudweed were both found just in flower along with the undoubted star of today’s show, White Ramping-fumitory. Rather scarce nationally, but  widespread around coastal north Essex, it was in exuberant flower in planters and cracks along the waterfront, untroubled by any frosts so far this winter.

And at the end of the hour we found ourselves at the saltmarsh, where Common Cord-grass with its naughty bits glistening in the sinking sunlight added a final species to our tally:

All in all, 39 species in flower represents a new high for us (see full list here New Year Day PLANT HUNT Year on year) compared with 37 in 2025, 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…

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 on the day 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. Happy New Year!!

These NYPH events are always free to participants, being as much as anything a chance to reconvene with old friends, both botanical and human, after the midwinter lull and start to look forward to the riches of the summer that is surely to come. But this year we did suggest that satisfied customers may like to contribute to the crowd funder to seek justice for the much-loved community oak tree in Wivenhoe, Old King George.

This tree has dominated our lives for the whole of 2025. The first part was covered in my blog of February: Saving Wivenhoe’s Old King George Oak Tree | Chris Gibson Wildlife. In essence, the tree is caught up in the grip of the insurer Aviva and Wivenhoe Town Council. Blaming it for subsidence, a death sentence was issued. This was fended off last winter by peaceful occupation by the Protectors, but the sentence was reaffirmed last month. And still now, as previously, all evidence pertaining to its guilt has been withheld from the public gaze. Despite the fact that the Protectors and their supporters funded and produced an (openly available) independent expert report which challenged the presumption of guilt. And another independent report with similar conclusions to ours was prevented from consideration by the council.

So we have had to take recourse in law. All we are asking for is full transparency: if the guilty verdict is supported by indisputable evidence, we would reluctantly accept it. A few days ago our legal team successfully won an injunction in the High Court to pause its felling which had been planned for early this year. A pause for democracy to be seen to be done.

Of course, this is expensive, hence the launch of our new CrowdJustice funder. Please consider contributing if you can using this link: Save Wivenhoe’s Old King George Oak tree

 

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: settling in for the winter pause…

Mid-December, just a week from the solstice, and I am back in the gardens for my final walk of the year. Yes, the wind has stripped all the leaves from the trees that shed them, but it still feels more like autumn, with above-average temperatures (perhaps the norm nowadays) despite thick grey cloud with just a few glimpses of weak sunshine.

Brown is the dominant colour, a sign that nature is dying back before the renewal to come.

But there are splashes of colour, the berries that will feed our winter thrushes over the colder months, along with untrimmed grasses, their flowerheads still full of seeds for the finches.

And just starting to ripen, the Ivy berries, which will become the main, vital food resource should the later winter period turn cold: they will keep the Woodpigeons, Blackbirds and many others alive when all of the rest of the fruits are gone.

There are still a few insects – bees and hoverflies mainly – on the wing, and they are taking full advantage of the relatively few flowers. There are the hangovers from autumn…

… the typically winter-flowering shrubs and climbers…

… and the first few harbingers of the spring that will surely come.

At the same time, new, fresh leaves are emerging, starting to push aside the brown autumnal carpet. The new year is on the starting blocks! And the birds sense it too, with singing Robins and Song Thrushes filling the still air with joy.

While this may be downtime in the garden, it does give us opportunity to look closely at some of the less showy inhabitants that keep on going whatever: mosses in the paving cracks, including Grimmia pulvinata and Tortula ruralis.

And in the Woodland Garden the Collared Earthstars that made their first ever fruiting appearance for the garden team a couple of weeks ago are still going strong!

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So another year comes to an end in the Beth Chatto Gardens. Time to look back on what has been a quite remarkable year for wildlife. For me, the highlights began in March when a couple of Treecreepers were creeping around the Silent Space, although only briefly – the larger trees of the Water Garden became their summer home. Other bird highlights included the first garden record of a Cetti’s Warbler, in October.

Often a spring highlight but never wholly reliable is one of our most delightful little butterflies, Green Hairstreak. This year was a good year for them, from mid-April into early June.

Insect numbers started to shoot up from June, and there were more Four-spotted Chasers around the ponds, often posing perfectly, than I have seen before. A sawfly (possibly Tenthredo colon) taught me something of which I was previously unaware, that some sawfly adults are predators, this one demolishing an Alderfly.

And our Moth Morning the same month produced excellent numbers of Elephant Hawk-moths and (here) the scarcer Small Elephant Hawk-moth.

June and July produced hitherto unprecedented numbers of Jersey Tiger moths around the garden…

… while early July witnessed the ‘insect blizzard’, a remarkable influx of hoverflies and ladybirds in particular, which cleared the garden of Black Bean Aphids in just a few days before they moved on through. And associated with this influx was rarer fare, including a couple of Long-tailed Blue butterflies, a first for the garden and perhaps only the seventh record for Essex. Ever!

Another influx was of Stomorhina lunata, the Locust Blowfly, a parasite of locusts originating from much further south in Europe, or perhaps even Africa. We have had one previous record of this fly (in 2016) which was only the third in Essex (and perhaps 30 nationally), but in August and September we were seeing them in multiples of ten or more at times, part of a surge of records nationally.

Of concern to rhododendrophiles maybe, but that beautiful creature the Rhododendron Leafhopper put in its long-anticipated first appearance in September. This was to be expected as it seems now to be found on Rhododendron almost throughout Essex, but for some reason had missed us out.

And for me the absolute highlight of highlights (from October) was the appearance of another parasitic fly, this one on shieldbugs, called Ectophasia crassipennis. Another most beautiful insect, this was only the second time it has turned up in Essex, and was the first time I have ever seen it away from the Pyrenees.

In a few days time, the cycle of the year will start to turn again, and we will see the return of the light. I for one look forward to 2026 being just as exciting, if not more so, than 2025.

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: Winter arrives!

My two visits at the end of November could hardly have been more different. The first was a wet day, very wet indeed save for a brief dry hour giving me the chance to savour the winter browns under leaden skies.

Leaf-fall in the previous wind and heavy rain coated every surface of the garden with the dejecta of Swamp Cypress, Dawn Redwood, Ginkgo and others, their groundscapes merging seamlessly into the gloom.

Too cold by far for any insect interest in the remnant flowers…

… and even the berries seemed not to be attracting the birds: the feeding station by the tearoom was the epicentre of activity.

But our oldest garden inhabitant looked magnificent, its grandeur undiminished by the lack of light.

In fact removing all colour from the scene draws attention to the sculptural qualities of its ancient bole:

A week later it was all very different. The intervening days had seen a fair amount of rain, along with a couple of frosts, the first of the season. But the sky was blue, Robins were singing and the sun was warm, although even at lunchtime frost still lingered in the shady corners.

Winter sun coming from a low angle served to intensify every vestige of colour in the landscapes and plantscapes and add drama to the shapes and shadows:

Birds still visited the fast-food joint, but were also active throughout the garden. Large numbers of Blackbirds, with a few Mistle Thrushes and Fieldfares, were devouring berries, with Jays chasing acorns…

… and  Goldfinches, Redpolls and Chaffinches eating seeds high in the Birchtops.

In the Gravel Garden, a fresh flush of Sickle-leaved Hare’s-ear formed a flowery filigree, as Seven-spot Ladybirds carried on resolutely hunting aphids.

But the flower of the moment was Mahonia. In full sunlight and full bloom, its Lily-of-the-valley scent pooled intoxicatingly in the still air and it was teeming with flies, especially Calliphora bluebottles, feeding at the flowers and basking on the leaves. Many might not get excited by such creatures, but we do! They pollinate as well as any bee, they are food for insectivorous birds, and without their maggots we would be knee-deep in unrotted animal carcases…

It is at this time of year, when leaves are off most of the trees and trunks illuminated by winterlight, that thoughts turn to lichens. Just a few from a wander round the car park included two that seem to be pretty scarce in Essex. Ramalina fastigiata, extinct in Essex in the 1970s due the the impacts of air pollution, has shown a slow recolonization since, but mostly in the westernmost fringes of the county – the latest map from the British Lichen Society shows only a single spot in the Tendring Peninsula, around Weeley.

There is a similar dearth of Lecidella elaeochroma records locally, with just two in our neck of the woods, from just west of Clacton and Elmstead Market respectively.

Then there were the commoner species, grey ones such as Physcia adscendens, Physcia tenella, Punctelia subrudecta and Flavoparmelia caperata…

… along with the very common Sunburst Lichen Xanthoria parietina, those in full sunlight more golden than those in partial shade, and one showing the pink spot of the parasitic fungus Illosporiopsis christiansenii, another apparent rarity in Essex with the National Biodiversity Network Atlas showing just one Essex site, near Southend.

Of course, comments about the scarcity of lichens and lichenicolous fungi should always be caveated by the fact that few folk record them, and perhaps their apparent distribution actually reflects the distribution of active naturalists. Nevertheless, despite their lack of popularity, lichens are wonderful structures and form lovely lichenscapes that add interest and splashes of colour to the winter scene. But please don’t feel you have to stay in the car park: the garden has so much more to offer at every time of year!

 

 

 

The Wild Side of Essex: a wintery Colne Estuary

It was the day that winter arrived in Wivenhoe. The wind swung round the north overnight, picked up strength and dropped what had been above-average temperatures for weeks to below-average in an instant. But nothing stops Naturetrek, and the select group met up as planned at Wivenhoe Station, well wrapped-up.

Starting upstream, we made a diversion into Wivenhoe Wood, autumn leaves still turning on the branches, others crackling underfoot as we looked at one of the few Butchers’-broom plants in the wood. With careful searching we managed to find one opened flower, a month or two ahead of the expected time.

Robins were singing wistfully, although other woodland birds remained quiet, giving us chance to explore the wonderful world of leaf-mines, with Holly Leafy-miner fly blotches on many a leaf.

Around Ferry Marsh, the reedbeds swished in the wind, a psithurism seemingly designed to hide the contact calls of any reedbed birds. But along the sea wall, there was Blackthorn covered in ripe sloes and a lovely male Stonechat showed well, albeit suffering from the aggressive attentions of a territorial Robin, while Teals dabbled in the shallows among to equally copiously fruiting Sea Asters.

But it was clear something was amiss with the tide. There was a lot of water, and it was not moving: it seemed the Wivenhoe Tidal Barrier must have been closed, very surprising given that the predicted high tide has passed, and we were still about five days away from the next round of spring tides… So while the Dabchicks were happy, most of the waders had to hunker down in their saltmarsh roosts, apart from the longer-legged Curlews and Little Egrets.

Along Wivenhoe waterfront, as always when seeing it through the eyes of those who had never been there before, I came to appreciate more fully how lucky we are to live here. This includes the rare plants in the block-paving cracks, especially Four-leaved Allseed and Jersey Cudweed, especially luxuriant beneath the benches away from trampling feet.

Further upstream than I have found it before, we also found Sea Wormwood, giving all the chance to scrunch and sniff the Green Fairy, the essence of absinthe.

The barrier was still closed as we reached it, making me think it must be closed for maintenance. But no, once downstream it was clear that the tide was still fully in. Clearly the weather conditions had produced a tidal surge that had delayed the tidal peak by a couple of hours, and produced a peak much higher than the astronomical prediction. Always a good opportunity to talk about the vulnerability of those living on the edge of the tide, and the arrogance of those who think we can win the fight against Nature.

So onward we went along the sea wall, the tide on the seaward side towering a couple of metres above the level of the grazing marsh to landward. Redshanks and Black-tailed Godwits were still resolutely at roost, while Linnets twittered from the bushes and Meadow Pipits crept silently across the marsh, occasionally erupting  in a flurry of ‘peep‘s.

Into Grange Wood where ancient woodland tumbles down to the tide in a most un-Essex-like manner, and an introduction to the fascinating world of galls, exemplified by both marble- and spangle-galls…

… and by the time we reached our lunch spot, the mudflats were starting to appear, covered in hungry feeding waders (Curlews, Black-tailed Godwits, Grey Plovers, Knots, Redshanks and Dunlins) along with Avocets, Wigeons and Brent Geese in the shallows. In fact the surge had done us a favour, meaning that the water birds were in better light than if we had seen them when we should have.

A quick check of the rain forecast showed a squall heading our way, so we took to the woods and emerged a few minutes later at the top of the Essex Alps as the sun came out to celebrate the passing of the sleety shower.

Magnificent boundary pollards and coppice stools, more galls and basking insects, Sycamore Tar-spot fungus, signs of Dutch Elm Disease and some huge Butchers’-brooms, these with still a few red berries from last winter’s flowers…

… and along Cutthroat Lane, the cold wind having abated with the passage of the rain, and the sparkling sunlight bringing welcome warmth and life to the autumn colours. A very appropriate place to hear the ‘happy peals’ of the Wivenhoe Church bells drifting up from the lowlands maybe 3km away which marked the funeral of our friend Graham….

And it was then into Cockaynes Reserve for more autumnal fare, including Redpolls and Siskins heading to the Alders, and fungi sprouting from the heathland, life after gravel extraction: the orange discs of a Neottiella species among the Reindeer Lichen and a couple of fruit-bodies of the cheesecap Russula nitida, a mycorrhizal species associated with the roots of Silver Birch.

Then in a nod to the spring, which will arrive however long the midwinter gloom lasts: Gorse in fresh flower, a beacon to any passing pollinator.

And all that was left was a wander back along the ridge, past the field of Water Buffalos, and down to Wivenhoe, paying homage to the Old King George Oak whose future is still undecided.

#WildEssexWalks: fungi, fruits and foliage in Wivenhoe Park

Our first #WildEssex walk after an enforced break of more than four months took us up to Wivenhoe Park with a large bunch of friends. This is a semi-regular autumnal walk venue for us, hoping to find fungi, fruits and foliage colours to usher us into winter.

Best laid plans! So much of what we hoped for is dependent upon preceding weather conditions, the sort of thing that is becoming less predictable as we continue in our arrogance to push our world inexorably beyond the agreed +1.5°C safe threshold.

It is always good when nature contradicts our assumptions. A hot, droughty summer followed by autumn rains and no sign yet of frost, I would have thought, seems a perfect recipe for a spectacular emergence of fungi. But it was not to be: even the ‘little brown jobs’ were few and far-between, and larger fungi even more so. There were Common Earthballs, some intact and others rupturing to liberate spores, together with a patch of Honey Fungus, and  Aniseed Funnel  and Deer Shield. But nothing compared with the rich array of some years.

Bracket fungi are usually more reliable, so it was not a surprise to see Birch Brackets, the nemesis of many a Birch tree, and Beefsteak Fungus, the latter growing from the buried roots of a veteran Oak.

But the most common fungus, covering the leaves of almost every sapling Oak was Oak Mildew. This at least seems to have found this summer’s weather to its liking.

For most trees and shrubs, the summer has produced copious fruiting, a so-called ‘mast year’, except bizarrely for Beech, the tree whose seeds are called ‘mast’.

Not that copious fruiting is necessarily a good sign. It way well be a response to stress, for example caused by the past three-drought summer. Although of course those things that eat the fruits are in for a bonanza: winter thrushes arriving in this country will be very happy to find an abundance of berries, here on Hawthorn and Cockspur Thorn.

On Yew as well, although strictly speaking those are not berries as the flesh doesn’t entirely envelop the (very poisonous) seed. Botanically, the Yew ‘berry’ is termed an aril.

Foliage colour is of course the epitome of autumn. But it is variable between years, again dependent on preceding weather. We had been hoping after the heat of summer for an autumn palette of shocking reds, but again ’twas not to be. The lack of any frost yet means that native trees are mostly turning yellow: here English Oak, Hornbeam, Field Maple, Beech and Aspen.

And even planted trees are not firing up as much as they can: Red Oak has just gone brown, although Tulip-tree has a bit more body to it, and Dawn Redwood is the most subtle peach just before the needles fall.

As always at this time of year, galls were numerous. On the leaves of Beech, there was the Hairy Beech Gall caused by the fly Hartigiola annulipes, a gall recorded from only about half a dozen other sites in Essex.

Some of the leaves also bore the signs of leaf-miners. This is the larval mine of Stigmella tityrella, a micromoth: the larva has exuded a chemical that delayed the senescence of its part of the leaf, giving time in the ‘green island’ to complete development.

Galls are caused by many different types of organism. The lumpy upward pouches on the delightfully scented leaves of Walnut are caused by and make a home for vast numbers of microscopic mites, Aceria erinea.

Very familiar under the leaves of English Oak are Common Spangle Galls, caused by the tiny gall-wasp Neuroterus quercusbaccarum. But other oaks are available. And there were similar galls under the giant leaves of the Far Eastern Daimyo Oak Quercus dentata. Similar but not quite the same, being more blobby and rounded rather than a flattened disc. Perhaps this is the shape of galls caused by the interaction with a relatively novel host plant: certainly this is the opinion of Essex Gall Recorder Jerry Bowdrey, who informs us it was first recorded on this host in a survey of Kew Gardens at the end of the 19th century, and that he  has also found it more recently at Marks Hall.

Also living on Daimyo Oak leaves was a Green Shieldbug , while a Hairy Shieldbug was also found.

A Red Admiral was spotted by some of the group, and one of the day’s highlights was expertly spotted by Jude, a Feathered Thorn moth wonderfully camouflaged against a brown Red Oak leaf. Autumnal moths are often shades of brown, yellow or russet for camouflage. But this one has additional darker lines that match the veins of the dying leaf.

It was a lovely walk in lovely weather: it is good to be back!

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: wildlife among a visual feast of foliage, fruits and flowers

During late October, I made two visits to the Gardens, both in great weather, but very different. For the first I was alone with my camera and thoughts, basking in the fiery glow of autumn, but the second, a few days later, was with a throng of up to 30 excited kids and parents on a bug hunt. It was absolutely delightful to be among such an array of sharp eyes, able to spot the teeniest morsel, and to see them enthralled by ladybirds, spiders and bugs. Such infectious enthusiasm for exploring their world boosts my motivation to want to protect it for their futures. And the joy on the face of one little girl when a dragonfly landed on her jumper will last a lifetime, mine and hopefully hers!

Late season butterflies, especially Red Admirals and Commas feeding up before hibernation, were still on the wing with a surprisingly late, newly emerged Small Copper, nectaring especially on Verbena bonariensis.

Likewise the late dragonflies and damselflies, basking, hawking and mating in a last gasp of summer before the cooler weather brings this generation to a close. Most numerous were Common Darters, some looking rather battered by the month end…

…along with Willow Emeralds. Which of these species will take the honours of being the last one of the year?

And sharing the aquatic immature stage of dragons and damsels, although as larvae instead of nymphs, a caddis-fly found camouflage among the browning poolside vegetation. These are tricky to identify, but this is one of the many, quite similar, Limnephilus species.

A few bumblebees, especially Common Carders, were still active, along with plenty of Common Wasps and a few Hornets, all of which apart from the queens are destined to perish shortly:

The most numerous insect group around the garden was the flies, whether groups of midgey minutiae dancing in the fading sunlight, or larger ones basking on sunlit leaves and wooden benches, or feeding at the fading flowers.

Hoverflies included Drone-flies and Grey-spotted Sedgesitter….

… but the specific identity of tachinid parasite-flies is more difficult to be sure of. The large ones with orange sides ‘used to be’ Tachina fera, but another pretty much identical species T. magnicornis has arrived recently in the UK, so we cannot now be so certain.

And the two below can only be assigned to genus, Linnaemya sp. and Siphona sp.

A final fly, strikingly orange with smoky wings, was Thricops diaphanus, from the housefly family. The Essex Field Club map shows only eleven previous records for the county, all in the western half.

Ladybirds, the kids’ favourites were to be found everywhere, mostly Seven-spots with a few Harlequins, but they are now starting to congeal into what will become their overwintering aggregations:

But perhaps the most remarkable insect feature of these walks were the true bugs, more than I have seen all summer. Most numerous were Hairy Shieldbugs along with Green Shieldbugs, some still sporting summer green but others browning into winter camouflage:

Gorse Shieldbugs too, also changing colour but always with the distinctive pale rim: remarkably, these are only the second and third garden records, and neither was on their traditional foodplant of Gorse…

Cinnamon Bugs were especially obvious during the first walk, while a single Bishop’s-mitre (again with only a couple of previous records here) was expertly spotted by one of the kids:

Moving to ‘other invertebrates’ Zebra Jumping-spiders and the harvestman Opilio canestrinii are both found regularly in the garden…

… but a Nigma walckenaeri, nestling under its horizontal web, and a Wrinkled Snail Xeroplexa intersecta were both new.

Amid all this invertebrate enthusiasm and abundance, it was easy to overlook the remaining flowers lighting up and providing a much-needed insect resource in the gardens, beauty made even more dramatic when bejewelled with droplets from the previous nights’ rains:

While the fruits and fungi speak of autumn, the Snowdrops (probably Galanthus regina-olgae, which typically flowers in late autumn) at least provide a hint of assurance that the dark days will pass!

Together with the birds – Redpolls and a Kingfisher during the first walk, and overhead Skylarks and a noticeable increase in presumably immigrant Blackbirds, Song Thrushes and Robins on the second – such was the bounty of this autumn, that I almost forgot to enjoy the kaleidoscope of colours. Almost, but not quite… so here is a final flourish of the gardens at their seasonal peak!

 

Another half-term break in London

In what now seems to be becoming a bit of an autumn half-term tradition (see last year’s trip here) we headed to London for a couple of days with Eleanor. The weather was fine, if somewhat breezy, so we all had fun, as well as helping provide her with material for her school project about Rivers.

Emerging from Liverpool Station into a forest of high-rise is always a bit of a culture shock …

… but the shock is tempered with interesting sculpture and art.

First stop was Finsbury Circus for a picnic lunch among the pigeons and squirrels. Some interesting planting among the magnificent London Plane trees gave us all chance to indulge in a bit of photography, and Fatsia japonica in full flower was, just like its relative Ivy, drawing in all manner of insects from Honeybees to hoverflies and social wasps.

Thence to the SkyGarden, seen peeping round other buildings long before we reached it.

This is one of the amazing free attractions of London (although online booking is required). Our first visit there a few years ago was in very different circumstances with no queuing, but the half-term crowds this time meant we didn’t get in until about 45 minutes after our booked slot. Still, not as bad as Disneyland in February! And once up the lift to floor 35, the view was of course remarkable, for Eleanor especially looking down on the Thames, the famous sights and the tiny people.

The garden itself was certainly lush, although there wasn’t all that much in flower, as might be expected in an essentially non-seasonal garden: plants flower as and when rather than all coming out during particular times of the year.

The clocks had changed the day previously so twilight came quickly and it was well under way by the time we reached our Ibis hotel by Barking Creek, the last rays of sunset just lighting up the tide-mill at more-or-less full tide. Why Barking? It is an interesting area, well connected to central London but far enough out to be affordable. And she loved the bunk bed!

Another sunny morning on our second day, so it was a lovely opportunity to walk down Barking Creek, and across the complex barrier that marks the start of the transition from tidal creek to the freshwater River Roding.

This time it was low tide, and the gulls, Coots and Mallards gathered argumentatively (as always!), while Cormorants rested on the wrecks and piers. A Kingfisher flew out of a patch of bankside reeds, and both Pied and Grey Wagtails trotted around the margins.

Through Barking Abbey grounds, the Ivy was covered in pollinators including a Red Admiral and a brief Hornet Hoverfly. And the Grey Squirrels, dozens of them, were busy provisioning for winter and making a little girl very happy. Where would London be without its squirrels, pigeons and parakeets?

Our route to the Young V&A involved a quarter of an hour walk from Stepney Green, as Mile End station was closed by an incident. But even the walk was interesting, the damp, dripping, seeping rail underpass providing a home for ferns, specifically the non-native Cyrtomium falcatum, now starting to colonise such niches by spore dispersal from cultivation but not reported from anywhere in east London on the NBN Atlas. And then right next to the railway bridge there was a Buddleja showing leaf-mines. We have never seen these before in this host, and despite their very different appearance, both galleries and blotches, it appears they are from the same mining fly Amauromyza verbasci. Again there are no records of this species from east London, or indeed from most of the south-east of England. Under-reporting surely but always interesting. The other fascinating thing is the fact that ‘verbasci‘ relates to its other main host Verbascum – and DNA sequencing has only just recently made us realise that mulleins and buddleia should be placed in the same plant family.

Then it was an hour at the museum, before all heading home tired but happy.

Eleanor, as she often does, took many photos, and some of our favourites are included below. It always surprises and thrills me to see the world as she sees it, a world witnessed through protective bars and fences, a world of giant trees and a world where leaf patterns are just as important as showy flowers. We can all learn a lot from that!

 

Autumnal tranquility in Cockaynes Reserve

It was unremittingly dull but unnaturally mild and almost eerily still for my walk at Cockaynes Reserve last week. Barely a sound to break the calm, except when a wisp of breeze dared breathe and every dry-leaf-crackle gently fractured the silence.

That is apart from the bird life: mournful autumnal Robin songs washed through the trees, while half-a-dozen Redpolls trilled over, a band of forty Siskins bounced through the Alder tops, and two Kingfishers flashed over the heath, their calls of an intensity matched only by the declamatory Cetti’s Warbler.

Despite widespread forecasts of a fiery autumn, here it was subtle, the shades of  English pastoral pastel…

… but fruits aplenty, haws waiting for the northern thrushes, Stinking Iris at ground level and Sweet Chestnut husks splitting on the tree.

The fungal season is just starting, but the portents are good, with Fly Agarics nestling at the base of Silver Birches, clumps of Sulphur Tuft, and small orange caps (Rickenella fibula) and discs (Neottiella rutilans) exuding from the heathy carpets of mosses and lichens, the latter including the dog-lichen Peltigera didactyla.

And just a few flowering plants: the last few Common Centaury and Stork’s-bill, Trailing St John’s Wort and superficially similar but much more numerous Least Yellow-sorrel.

Insects and other invertebrates were few, but included a Parent Bug, Velvet Mites and a few crane-flies and hoverflies:

And then of course the galls, on the Oaks in particular, such as these Marble Galls:

Over the years I have examined innumerable Oak leaves at this time of year. There are three common Neuroterus gall-wasp spangle galls: Common Spangle, Silk Button and Smooth Spangle, listed in order of their typical frequency. But this year, here as elsewhere, Smooth Spangles have been as easy to find as Silk Buttons.

And while I have often found two of the three species, in all combinations, on a single leaf, apart from one at the Ingrebourne Marshes in 2021, I have never found all three species together side-by-side. But at Cockaynes last week in just a few minutes on two separate trees I scored hat-tricks. Two leaves showed spatial separation within the leaf, while on the others there was more intermingling.

Endlessly engaging, I have long had a fascination for these galls. Indeed I first wrote about them for the Colchester Natural History Society as long ago as 1986 during my first spell of living in Wivenhoe. Back then I found no hat-trick leaves at all, and my annual observations since then have done no more than reinforced my perception of this pattern. No answers to the question ‘why?’. But what would life be without a little mystery?!

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: a lull before the first storm of autumn…

Early October can be such a wonderful time. Still warm enough for shorts, still nature going about its preparations for the coming cold, seemingly with increasing urgency. And the first few days of the month this year were just that in the Beth Chatto Gardens, although with the first named storm of the season, Amy, due in a day or two, things could change rapidly… Thankfully I had the opportunity to make a couple of visits, both unfortunately rather short.

For now, the gardens are looking fruitful, showing some of the stresses of a multi-drought summer, but still in fine fettle. And for the insects there are still all manner of nectar and pollen resources out there to be exploited:

The most obvious visitors are still the butterflies, albeit in reduced numbers and diversity. Red Admirals, Commas and Large Whites were the commonest, with a very few Small Coppers, Small Heaths, Common Blues and Holly Blues, the latter by now probably on its third generation of the year.

Likewise, especially around the ponds, dragonflies and damselflies were still noticeable, basking, hunting and mating: Migrant Hawkers over the water, Common Darters everywhere including egg-laying couples in tandem, and Willow Emeralds, again some in mating formation, in the trees and marginal planting.

In the woodland garden, the leaves are colouring rapidly, especially that harbinger of autumnal glory Amelanchier. 

The Oak leaves bear their customary array of galls, here Spangle Galls although the smaller, darker ones may well indicate they have been hyper-parasitized. ‘Big fleas have little fleas, little fleas have lesser...’ etc comes to mind!

Spangle galls are caused by tiny wasps, but the pustular galls on Alder leaves are caused by even tinier mites, Eriophyes laevis.  And this leaf also has a leaf-mine, the manifestation of someone feeding inside the leaf (but not triggering abnormal growth, hence it is not a gall). Leaf-mines can be caused by a variety of insects, from moths to beetles, but this is made by the larva of a leaf-mining fly Agromyza alnivora. One leaf and two identifications without ever seeing the organism, just their symptoms.

A few Ivy plants around the shady areas were, as always, buzzing with life attracted to the vital late-season nectar and pollen source of their flowers.

Hornets were particularly active on the flowers, drinking the nectar for themselves, then flying menacingly through the greenery like  sharks hoping to pounce on an unfortunate insect to kill and take to their nest.

But it is thirsty work being a Hornet! Only males seemed to be visiting this watering-hole.

We don’t have much Ivy in the main part of the gardens, which probably explains why I was able to watch an Ivy Bee feeding on Astrantia. The bees are supposed to feed almost exclusively at Ivy, though in extremis may turn to members of the Daisy and Heather families. Perhaps Astrantia is a good alternative too: after all the Ivy family and Carrot family are closely related, and Hedera and Astrantia share a similar contracted umbel flower form.

By October  the power is draining from the sun’s rays so there are insects to be found basking to warm up. Crane-flies, here Tipula paludosa, seem now to be coming out in reasonable numbers, ungainly fliers and fair game for any insectivorous bird (or dragonfly).

Perhaps this Hairy Shieldbug had selected a sun-warmed bed among the insulating fur of a Cardoon seed-head as its cosy winter refuge?

Otherwise my eyes turned repeatedly to the late-flowering nectar and pollen sources. Honeybees were on a wide range of flowers, especially from the Daisy and Scabious families; bumblebees too, especially Common Carder-bees at the moment, and they can continue flying as it cools, given they have their own fur coats.

And where there’s prey, there are predators, although the success rate of this Flower Crab-spider may well be limited by its choice of backdrop…

It was good to see one of our larger hoverflies, the wasp-mimic Wasp Plumehorn Volucella inanis, an Essex Red Data species that has only infrequently been seen before in the gardens. Until we compile the Beth Chatto biolist I remain at the mercy of my memory, but Google shows me at least one previous example, from August 2023…

Wasp Plumehorn lives as a parasite in the nests of wasps and Hornets. And there are many other parasites that also contribute to keeping natural balance in the garden. One group is the tachinid parasite-flies, such as Tachina fera, whose larvae feed inside lepidopteran  caterpillars.

Then there was another Locust Blowfly Stomorhina lunata. These are scarce immigrants to UK from southerly climes where they breed, their larvae being parasites of locusts. We had one here about eight years ago, and then a small influx in early August this year, so maybe our native grasshoppers and bush-crickets should watch out…

And finally, the real prize of these visits, this gorgeous fly Ectophasia crassipennis, also a parasite, but of shieldbugs. Related to the equally beautiful Phasia hemiptera which was first seen in the garden in late July, when I was otherwise occupied, Ectophasia is even rarer, with only one previous Essex record I know of, and it is the first I’ve seen in this country.

As usual, the Beth Chatto Gardens came up with the wildlife goods. But what was especially remarkable was that my second visit lasted just 15 minutes. And in that short space of time I saw all three of the last-mentioned specialities, AND heard a Cetti’s Warbler singing, another garden first!