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, 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 singing Chiffchaffs, 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!