Blog Archives: WildWivenhoe

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

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… 

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 Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: the advent of winter

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

Two visits  to the Gardens a week apart witnessed the arrival of winter this year. Last week it was still autumn, albeit a relatively subdued one in terms of colour, blanketed under dank anticyclonic gloom…

It was also dead calm, as indeed it had been for several weeks, leaving leaves largely where they were, apart from the groundscapes created by traditionally early droppers…

 

And it was mild, meaning there was still plenty of flowering to feed the bees and flies still busy in the garden.

Most exciting of all though were the bird’s-nests. Fungi, that is, their fruit bodies occupying just one of the peony pots. They are Crucibulum laeve – so-called Common Bird’s-nest, but we’ve never seen it before.

So we now have two species in the garden,  Field Bird’s-nest from 2022 outside in the Reservoir Garden is the other, twice as large and greyer. Both are simply exquisite, and part of the reason we love nature so much!

And so to yesterday, winter: a sudden cold snap had brought several nights of penetrating frost, and even an unexpectedly early dusting of snow:

This was a very different day, with temperatures hovering around freezing and feeling much cooler in the stiff breeze, but with crystalline sunlight beaming down from an azure sky.

Whether the leaf colours had really changed that much, or their intensity was magnified by the quality of the light, it felt that winter was here…

 

Whether en masse or in detail, winter is permeating every corner of the garden…

And the blanket of fallen leaves grows ever more varied:

As for wildlife, as always in the cold, the garden was a refuge for birds: a Red-legged Partridge sitting disconsolately in a snowpatch, untroubled by visitors (there were none!) and safe from the guns, while a Moorhen had recently ventured out of the ponds and left its mark.

The berry bushes were full of Woodpigeons and five species of thrush (Song and Mistle Thrushes, Redwing, Fieldfare and Blackbird) gorging on the ripe fruits, leaving the still-green Ivy berries for late-winter sustenance.

Autumn is still not forgotten: under a Silver Birch there was a fruiting Fly Agaric (as with the Red-legged Partridge, only the second time in the Gardens for me) and a Birch Bracket in the trunk above.

The frosts had disposed of much of the previous week’s blooming, but remarkably there were still insects foraging, despite the cold. As I extolled the virtues of Mahonia, right on cue along came a Buff-tailed Bumblebee – the wonders of a fur coat! One of the best things any gardener can do is to plant midwinter-flowering shrubs to fill the nectar-gap when our native countryside simply is not up to the mark, the gap that used to be a hiatus in insect activity but now in an overheated world simply not the case.

Another surprise was a new insect for the garden, at least for me: nestling down in the solar reflector leaf of a Cistus populifolius was a Parent Bug, long-anticipated as likely to be present. Another one to add to the inventory we are starting this winter!

So winter may be here, but there is still plenty of the wild side of life to appreciate in the Beth Chatto Gardens. Open Thursday to Saturday, 10.00 to 16.00, until 21 December – AND until then it is entry is half-price – Welcome to Beth Chatto’s Plants and Gardens

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: a time for renewal

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

Now that November is upon us, the Gardens have started their winter semi-hibernation, open only Thursday to Saturday, time for them to recover from the exuberances of summer. But at least they can still be visited to bring the joys of nature into our lives, and for half-price to boot …

The summer’s growth is starting to be recycled into next year’s growth …

… but the flowers are not yet done. Especially pinks and purples blend well into the message of autumn, and at least on sunny days they are still drawing in insects.

Even earlier this week when the day was grey, the air moist but still, there were Honeybees and a few bumblebees visiting the ever-reliable spikes of Bistorta amplexicaulis: there is no better plant in the gardens to feed these and many others. And no doubt, if the sun should ever come out again (it has been a grey week, not good for anyone prone to the wintertime blues) there would be a whole lot more, at least until the advent of the first frosts.

Cooler air means that the insects, if you find them, are less flighty and easier to see in close up. One such on my visit was this was a Twin-spot Centurion, our largest and latest of this group of soldier-flies, with distinctive orange legs and a pair of white spots above the antennal bases. This was my first record, not only for the garden, but anywhere: it is widespread in Essex, but records are rather thinly scattered especially in the north of the county – it may owe some of its apparent scarcity to its typically late-season emergence.

Berries and seeds, food for birds in particular, were also much in evidence: sprinkles of colour on the bushes, architectural forms rising from the beds and grass-heads exploding like fireworks from their tussocky bases:

And then of course the leaves – such a rapid colour change, fewer than two weeks since my last visit, signifying ‘peak autumn’.

And without any recent strong winds, the fallen cover the ground, plants and water like gentle foliar confetti, destined to become a deluge when this unusually calm spell gives way to winter proper.

But for now, there is still time to visit and see the garden in its full autumnal splendour! For details see Explore Our Gardens – Beth Chatto’s Plants & Gardens.

#WildEssexWalks: autumn in the Wivenhoe Cemeteries

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

#WildEssex today resumed its tradition of offering a fungi walk in November.  This year we stayed local to Wivenhoe, exploring both cemeteries to hunt out not only fungi, but also foliage, fruits and an interesting addition to our town this year – Firebugs! An ‘effing’ good time was in prospect!!

But the weather dampened things a little. Light rain for much of our two hours (we stayed in the wooded Old Cemetery when it turned more purposeful) gave way to occasional warm sunshine, and a magnificent double rainbow. And the raindrops certainly embellished the tips of the beautiful Bhutan Pine…

The fungi are always unpredictable, even in these cemeteries, renowned as one of the best locations for fungus-hunting in the area. But this time, we managed to hit the peak (probably) of a good year. Under the trees there were numerous Death Caps (appropriate for cemeteries!), a single Fly Agaric, parasols and Clouded Agarics:

In addition we discovered fungi growing on dead wood (Turkey Tail types) and microfungi on leaves: Sycamore Tar Spot plus various rust fungi, not to be confused with leaf-mines, galls and other blemishes:

In the more open New Cemetery, the important grassland fungi put on a great show, with six or more waxcaps, from white, through yellow, orange and scarlet, to black; Golden Spindles; puffballs and earthballs; milkcaps and cheesecaps; plus numerous LBJs  (Little Brown Jobs).

In a footnote to the above, just a couple of weeks after this walk, we were out on the King George Field. Grassland fungi were coming up there too, including at least four waxcaps and one club fungus (photos below). I have not seen fruiting like this at this location here since 1987. It was this half-remembered diversity that guided my choice of the southwest corner for the first Wivenhoe haymeadow seven years ago. Comprehensive fungal survey certainly needs patience!

And the rich flora was not completely over either, with Field Scabious, Mouse-eared Hawkweed, Ox-eye Daisy and Yarrow still flowering, although the Ivy Broomrape (possibly its only site in Essex, discovered this summer) was well over. Having said that , as a parasitic plant with no chlorophyll it always looks dead anyway!

Fruits abounded on Cotoneaster, Holly, Yew, Ivy and Stinking Iris – all important resources for birds:

And autumn-tinted foliage lit up the paths as we walked through the cemeteries:

As always we were on the look-out for insects. Some gravestones (particularly those under Lime trees) proved popular meeting places for large numbers of Firebugs. These lovely creatures have only been known in UK for a few years, and now have a foothold here in Wivenhoe. How they manage to disperse and spread is all rather mysterious as the vast majority of individuals do not have wings and so cannot fly.

Other invertebrates included a rather splendid ichneumon wasp, Virgin Bagworm moths and a single Parent Bug, while the final discovery of the day was an Issus coleoptratus, a bug which we have seen very few of in recent years.

In addition to general nature walks, this year WildEssex have introduced ‘Botany Club’ events. These are for anyone interested in learning more about the craft of identifying wildflowers, and no previous experience is required.  Using Chris’ book ‘British & Irish Wild Flowers and Plants’, a few samples are collected each time and then the process of identifying explained. More events of this type are to be arranged next year. For more details of these, or our other, events please contact Jude at jmgibson1959@btinternet.com.

The Wild Side of Beth Chatto Gardens: Autumn glories

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

October, the month when the low-angled sun sends shafts of dappled light through the garden, illuminating a scene of nature starting to bed in for the winter. This month I am fortunate to have had excuses to go there on four or five occasions, almost all of them under blue skies and in sometimes unseasonable, unreasonable warmth…

It was the month that started green …

… developed russet and orange tints …

… until now when whole swathes are alight with the glow of autumn flames.

Misty mornings add their own veil of mystery, leaving evidence of their passing in the form of dewdrop diamonds adorning flowers, foliage and silken webs alike.

The process of autumnal change is both intrinsic and extrinsic, senescence with an added splash of leaf-miners, sprouting galls and sporing microfungi …

And then there are the macrofungi, this autumn being one of the best I have seen for them in the garden, including my first record of Fly Agarics fruiting under the Silver Birches:

 

Fungi are one of the main groups of decay organisms, adding to that overlooked but vital virtuous circle of ‘life → death → decay → renewed life’, hopefully cycling ad infinitum. But the initial part of decay is down as much to the chompers as the rotters, and for the first time we had a look for some of those by scrabbling around in leaf-litter and under logs. Here are just a few representatives of that rich ecosystem of detritivores (and their predators!), from worms, woodlice, harvestmen and springtails to beetle larvae, spiders and centipedes.

Autumn is also a time of bounty, with plants in fruit all around the garden. From grassheads glinting gold in the sidelight to swelling capsules of Agapanthus…

… and of course the burgeoning berries in a kaleidoscope of colours, each food for someone, reassurance that if we ever get a hard winter again, Nature will provide.

While floral displays are fading, they are still there and providing, especially Hylotelephium and Crocus for bumblebees, Bistorta and Verbena for Honeybees, social wasps and pretty much everything.

Dragonflies and damselflies, the true spirits of High Summer, have still been flying throughout the month, mostly Willow Emeralds (more than I have ever seen before) and Common Darters, with a few Migrant Hawkers to mid-month. Assuming we don’t get early frosts, we can look forward to the first two species well into November, maybe beyond.

A selection of the leaf-feeders during the month includes a Grey Dagger moth caterpillar, a Hairy Shield-bug and most surprisingly a Gorse Shield-bug, the first time I have ever found it in our garden. We don’t have much Gorse, and this species has a very close relationship with that food-plant – although remarkably that particular specimen was actually on Euphorbia!

And yes there have still been butterflies around, reflecting the fact that the previous month saw the greatest number of butterflies for the whole of this poor summer. I saw a total of six species during the month: most numerous were Red Admirals, looking increasingly battered and presumably individuals that had ‘opted’ not to join the record-breaking southward migration in September.

Commas too were numerous, including the one casting a very appropriate shadow for Halloween on the wall of Beth’s House!

Birds don’t often feature highly in my walks around the garden given the number of human visitors, but at migration times they can be numerous flying over, this month Swallows and Skylarks in particular. And it has been a long time since I recorded three new species for me in the gardens in one month. Two were perhaps not unexpected, a pair of Red-legged Partridges wandering in from surrounding fields, and a Grey Wagtail that dropped in on migration. But the third was a real delight, a Nuthatch calling loudly from either side of the Reservoir Garden on one visit; although not uncommon across much of the country, it is very scarce, indeed largely absent, on the Tendring Peninsula, east of Colchester. So a month of colour, a month of delights, and a month of new things for the Beth Chatto Gardens, our incidental nature reserve!