STREET PLANTS AND STREET PEOPLE

A sow thistle growing on a wall may flower and thrive.
A human with no-where to go will be less successful.

As you know - can't fail to have missed - I am impressed by street plants. They live in shop doorways and gutters and flourish there. People don't.

You may also have gathered from previous posts that I visit Oxford from time to time. What I haven't said in these posts is that while photographing street plants, I've been taken aback by how many people live on pavements there too. I mean, in almost every town people sleep rough - but in Oxford, to an outsider like me, the visible numbers are shocking - so many doorways are every night turned into cramped, temporary bedrooms.

The sycamore tree in a drain we have followed for the last few years
still lives but is getting a bit cramped.
Drains are not meant for trees - nor shop doorways for humans.
June 2016

I don't understand. Oxford is a place with one of the best universities in the world. It's a place stodgy with outstanding brains. You'd have thought they could have set aside some time to put their intellectual heads together and work out what can be done.

Meanwhile, council funding for charities working with and for homeless people in Oxford has been cut by £1.5 million this year.

I don't want to go on about Oxford over much. It's just happens to be where I get most shocked. It's the place where I think about homelessness more than I do anywhere else - even more than where I live. It's the place where I think, over and over "what are minds for if not for addressing these kinds of basic needs?" And it's where (I expect you were waiting for this . . . ) where I know someone who is taking part in an event to raise a little of the money charities need to help those who are homeless, or newly homeless, or newly with a roof over their heads. Having somewhere to stay - though important - is not the end of the matter. It means a life-style change and that doesn't necessarily come easy to everyone.

THE BIG OXFORD SLEEP-OUT

Weymouth, June 2016

It's always hard to think of an event that will draw people to raise money, to raise consciousness, to 'make something happen' without it being naff or offensive. Selling jam to raise money for famine victims it's . . . well, there's something uncomfortable about it. So it may be that the group of students and local citizens who will be 'sleeping-out' for one night may find it a bit awkward . . . Being in the open for one night is not the same as curling up under a cardboard box every night in November. However . . . however . . . however awkward it feels . . . sometimes if money is needed you have to go with the ideas you come up with; ideas that are within your reach to fulfil

By clicking the link you'll go to the Just Giving page of a first-time fundraiser. She won't be the only one coming at this from scratch but she happens to be the one I know . . . And while each participant has been asked to raise £100 by being cold for a few hours . . . it would be good if every one of them were to raise more, for it's not for themselves they are doing it.

Here's the link.

If any of you do feel moved to give - perhaps you will think of those street plants

And how people are rarely as resilient as they are.

Money raised will be shared between

Oxford Homeless Pathways

Connection Floating Support

Aspire, Oxford

Photos in this post were taken in Dorset, not in Oxford. But these kinds of plants live in both places.

Some other Loose and Leafy Street Plant posts.

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P.S. I suddenly realise it looks a bit odd, exhorting you to give when it seems (from the list) as if I haven't done so myself! But due to the nature of my card I had to use the 'anonymous' option.

PRETTY AND GRUESOME

I won't bore you with too many details - though I'm tempted to. I could go on and on about laptops. The important thing though is to say I have a new one. There! Self restraint!

Given that the only thing I want to talk about is adventures with laptops . . . I'm finding it hard to say anything useful or interesting about plants.

My old one started making fizzing electrical noises. It was quite sca . . . no!

Here are some bluebells. English or hybrid or . . . ( ? ? ? ?) - yellow pollen, drooping heads, curled up edges.

The Plantlife site has information about how to tell them from Spanish ones.

And beside them are hawthorn trees. The flower buds are pretty but once they've opened they get bashed around by rain which comes in sharp bursts then goes.

But not everything is lovely. In a moment I'm going to show you something quite gruesome. If you are brave, a doctor, a nurse or a vampire you may have no trouble . . . I'm hoping you'll be interested but I'd better let you know in advance so you won't scroll too far ahead if you don't want to. (There will be a second warning so you can keep reading for the moment)

Being at last able to use a laptop (. . . why do they sell ones so shoddy one has to take them back to the sh . . . NO!) . . . having a laptop means there's been a point to carrying my camera again so I've been pottering around without a theme; simply re-visiting old places to see what's going on and where. Remember the sycamore in a drain? It's still there!

In a minute, I'm going to show you part of a dead gull and a clear photo of some of its insides. In the meantime . . . here's an ant on a front door.

The gull was on the grassy bank beside the bluebells and hawthorn trees. Its head was missing, its guts exposed and its entrails stretched straight. I'm sparing you somewhat. This is only part of the picture - but it was an interesting opportunity.

When I found a dead goose on a beach I was able to photograph it in detail and I would have liked to do the same with this bird but instead of the trees protecting me from a new onset of rain, the onset of rain was knocking drops from an earlier shower onto my camera. So I beat a retreat.


I photographed this first. I don't know what body part it is. Do you? I've never seen the inside of a gull before!

And a few footsteps further - more bluebells.

It's all nature!

It's good to be back, it's good to be back, hello! hello!

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We go way back with the sycamore in the drain. Click here and you'll see it in April and May 2012.

STREET PLANTS IN JUNE

Black Medick (Medicago lupulina)

There's a street I know where nothing ever changes. Of course, it must change. Indeed, I know it does because I went looking for prickly lettuce against a wall and it wasn't there.

But somehow the seasons get left behind. There's very little rubbish but there are always autumn leaves. How can there be leaves when other things are swept away?

Small Petty Spurge (Euphorbia peplus)

It makes it a pleasant place to walk. The houses are strong and practical but not necessarily beautiful. There are pensioners' bungalows along one side; council houses on the other. Close by there's a well-kept green with a post-box. Around the corner there are lock-up garages.

This is the street where the horse chestnut grows that went with the list of Tree Following posts for June. It's a plain and ordinary residential street - where leaves always stay in the kerb. Some must be taken away or the place would have silted up long ago and no-one would be able to pass in and out through their garden gates.

And for whatever the reason, it's a sure fire place for street plants. Maybe they are protected by the leaves? But it seems more the other way round. The leaves are caught among the stems of the plants which grow there in profusion and variety.

It's not as if there's something special about this street compared with the ones around. There are more pensioner's bungalows than in others but why would that make leaves stay? And it's not that older people are less likely to have cars to squash plants in the kerb. There are cars. What's more, some other streets have fewer because the houses there are provided with their own parking places.

Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris)

I can't fathom it. But what I do know is that I could have filled post after post after post with plants which grow in this one, ordinary, residential street where the wind and sweepers leave eaves and the elements provide the best place possible for an abundance of plants in the kerbs.

* * *

You know the tree in a drain we visit from time to time? It's thriving still. This year it's filled the hole beneath the grid with leaves. Here's a new sprouting.

Sycamore tree with new, scrumpled leaves

Are there plants in the streets where you live? Or where you travel around? 

Do join us by putting your post in the Loose and Leafy Urban Wild Plant link box which will open tomorrow (21st June) and close June till 7pm on the 25th.

For more info. go to the Street Plant Bloggers Page.

Do you know the Nature Gate site? 

I really do recommend it. It's elegant and informative. It's based in Finland but many of the plants and creatures on it can be found in other countries too.

Here are it's entries for plants in this post.

Black Medick

Shepherd's Purse

Petty Spurge 

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A WALK BY THE SEA IN AUTUMN

If you are looking for the Tree Following

 Link Box for October, click here.

Usually I show you plants. I'm going to show you plants now.

Usually the pictures are silent. You don't know what I hear. What you may not realise is that in one of my favourite spots for plants, if I pop up below hedge level the sea is what I see. Often it's silent because this bit of sea is contained within a massive harbour. But today it was noisy. So were the birds. But the birds were boring. They were taking it in turns to sing or croak or caw. There were Dunnocks. (Pretty.) I think there were Robins. (The best singers of all.) There were magpies squabbling and crows shouting randomly in what they may have thought was a chorus. So I decided that in terms of a sound-scape the sea was best of all. After a couple of minutes of magpies I want to ask in an irritated way if that's all they have to say. Click, click, shriek, click. But I never tire of the sea.

Here, then is a sound track to go with the pictures. I'll not say much about the plants in thm. They're the kind you are familiar with on Loose and Leafy. So I'll leave you to listen to the sea while you scroll down the page. If you don't have the kind of computer which can cope with video clips I apologise. You'll have to imagine a gentle but persistent hum rising and falling with the wind interfering every now and then.

This is one of those plants one forgets what they are once the flowers have gone. At least I do. I find white umbeliferous plants hard to identify even in the summer.

(To see what this seed head looked like in September, click here. You'll see some seeds are still hanging on.)

Haws are falling.

Quite a lot of them are still on the trees. They are crinkling up and going brown and waggling around on their branches because they are camera shy and the wind is rising.

The round things are ivy flowers. Another mystery.

Lichen which is orange (I'd say yellow but it's called Common Orange Lichen - Xanthoria parietina) is changing to green as it gets wet in the rain and general autumn dampness. When the weather is dry, it reverts to yellow. If you look carefully you'll see the lichen on the upper part of the branch is greener than the lower part. In the summer all of this was a mixture of bright orange and yellow. (Here's a picture I took of the same lichen on a nearby branch on a dry day in January last year.)

Do I understand what lichen is? No. To me it's a science fiction creature (I say this every time because I don't get much further forward it's sort of unbelievable - a combination of algae and fungus. When it's damp the algae element (green) shows through the fungal element which contains a chemical (xanthorin) which protects it against the UV rays in sunshine. 

This is what flowers come to!

Blackberries are falling, leaving brown whirls behind. They look rubbish from a distance but are beautiful close to. (You might want to click the picture to enlarge it.)

And on the way home, out of the way of the sea, the sycamore in a drain we've been following for the last couple of years. It looks a bit tatty but autumn hasn't reached underground just yet.

* * *

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Xantharia parietina on Nature Spot

Xanthoria parietina on Wikipedia (if you're in the mood for really, really concentrating).

OUT ON THE TOWN

One of my mantras - to look up. Another, once you are up - look down.

There are special places I return to over and over. Are the same plants there? Depending on the season, the answer is usually 'yes'; if not the original ones, new ones which have grown from their seeds or their roots. Town plants - the wild kind - are as predictable as their hedgerow cousins.

Another reason for returning is to have another bash at photographing plants which 'didn't come out well first time'. (Sometimes they never do.)

This fern is one of several growing on the outer side of a footbridge over a level crossing. The gates don't stay shut for long and it's exciting to stand by the track and watch trains rattle by so whether from patience, laziness or interest, shoppers usually wait till the barriers go up again. Sometimes there are people in carriages. (It's fun being a passenger looking out at the crowds.) Sometimes its a chain of trucks. Sometimes I too stand and wait but I don't like crowds, view climbing steps as a minor contribution to staying healthy - and like to visit the plants on the bridge.

I've never yet taken a really crisp picture of any of the ferns there. I have to reach the camera out over the brick edge and twist it down or back (safe with handrail so I'm not going to tip over) and focus at an uncomfortably short distance which sacrifices depth of field. (Remember, I'm well-pleased with my camera but I can't change the lens.)

Yesterday was no exception. Slightly fuzzy image. Odd angle. But . . .

The train has just passed and a huge column of pedestrians surges over the track in both directions . . . looking at the ground.

They do, of course, have to make sure not to trip on the rails . . . but it's more than that . . . when not looking in windows or checking phones, people do look down a lot when walking along. I do this too - watch my shoes pop in and out of vision. It can be meditative, give a sense of marching forward and purposefulness. Feet are awfully interesting! Hence my mantra - remember to look up.

Look up - and you'll see ferns.

Look behind things and you'll find leaves and seeds. (Even if they turn out at a jaunty angle!)

Look down .

Even underground . . . well, you already know my fascination with drains!

But don't neglect feet level.

Here under a backstreet tree by a multi-storey car-park among fallen leaves and old twigs - about four inches across . . . it pays as much to look down as up. 

And, if you look up - you may see me looking down! If you do - I'll wave.

_____

Tree Following News.

In my enthusiasm to keep the list up-to-date - I obliterated it. Bother!

But, to me, autumn is the beginning of a new year. It always seems more like new life than new death with everything getting ready for next spring and summer. Always very hopeful. So . . . new list!

Hollis is giving us a really good start with 'Autumn Strategies 1'.

Hollis Marriot blogs from Wyoming in the U.S.A. The terrain is profoundly different from the Dorset land-and-sea-scape I'm familiar with and the plants there often have to use different ways to deal with their environment - one which (it seems to me) is a pretty challenging one. 

Unlike Loose and Leafy - which rambles about discovering things without knowing anything - In the Company of Rocks and Plants gives you proper science too. (Of a very accessible kind.)

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THE TREE IN THE DRAIN REACHES ITS SECOND SPRING

You may remember that as well as observing trees and bushes and plants in hedgerows and seeing what there is to see along the shore, I'm also interested in the trees and bushes and plants which grow and thrive in towns - and that one of them which fascinates me specially is the sycamore tree in a drain.

I first noticed it a year ago and wrote a post about it HERE.

This is how the tree was on April 16th 2012.

Its leaves were already quite large.

To see what it was like in  May 2012 - Go to the post

Tree in a Drain.

You will see it was already reasonably tall and healthy so talking about its second spring is not quite accurate - more, it's the second spring I've noticed it.

This post is a catch up. We'll leap from May 2012 to August - then see what's happened since. 

August 8th 2012

The tree grew so well, the space available to it became a little congested. At the top of the tree (which, I would guess, is about two feet high) leaves would rise above road level, only to be sheered off by the tyres of cars running over it. It isn't a busy street so leaves would have time to grow and poke up - but they never lasted. It wasn't an entirely healthy situation but . . . 

November 15th 2012

. . . it survived - and in November 2012 this little tree hit Autumn.

April 11th 2013

Like its larger brothers, sisters and cousins, it stayed dormant over winter. I wondered if it would grow again - indeed, for a while I mourned it, certain it wouldn't but - here it is on April 11th 2013 - leaf buds beginning to turn green. (Compare with last April - at the top of the page!)

April 23rd 2013

Towards the end of the month, the leaves are opening. Compared with last year, they are small - but the tree is older and taller so its leaves are emerging from the top of the drain sooner.

April 26th 2013

Very soon, the leaves are growing fast. The drain is filling with greenery - but above ground - little hope of rising tall. Already the leaves at its crown are squashed and torn. (See bare stalks sticking up in the middle and the flattened leaf above them in the picture?)

Pretty amazing, no?

I'm a Tree Follower - Are You?

For the same tree April/May 2012

- click HERE.

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Posts from Around the
World showing aspects ofwhere
bloggers live.

TREE IN A DRAIN

March 1st 2012

Trees are generally unmissable . . . in the country they live in woods and forests and hedgerows. In towns they line streets or are neatly arranged in parks.

Paved, pedestrianised streets are not exactly leafy. Some have little squares cut in the ground with trees poking through. This street . . . spot the tree?

We have to look up to see it. 

Trees underground are even less obvious. Finding them is, perhaps, a minority occupation.

But they are there.

April 16th 2012

Here is a sycamore in a drain. (Not in the shopping street above but in a residential street in a nearby town.)

May 2nd 2012

Perspective is difficult when peering with a camera into a drain. This tree begins about two feet underground and is not yet as close to the surface as it looks in the picture.

May 2nd 2012

May 22nd 2012

On its way up!

May 22nd 2012

Larger leaves are maturing. Instead of rising above the dust of the street, dust from the street falls upon it.

May 28th 2012

Up and over!

The photograph above is from today (May 28th 2012). The tree has begun to emerge from the drain and its leaves are under attack. If it were in a busy main road they would probably be smashed on first appearance. Cars are not gentle. Even in a quiet street it's unlikely this tree will be allowed to grow too tall - which is why I am posting this now. Let's celebrate it while it's there!

The Latest Posts

from

Tree Followers
(Let me know if you have a new post to go in the List)

Patio Patch - Wych Elm: Worth the Wait in Gold
Experiments with Plants - London Plane  Tree
Gardening Ways - Plane Tree is Go!

Lichfield Lore - Tree Following in Theory - Cider Orchard

Down by The Sea -  Visit to the Willow 5

Flighty's Plot - Butterflies, Dandelions and Trees

On the Edge Gardening - Copper Beech and Lime Together

For a list of the Tree Followers
And - don't forget Treeblogging which aggregates posts about trees from a wide range of blogs.

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GUTTERS AND DRAINS

A couple of weeks ago, thieves stole gratings from gutters, one from here, one from there in at least three places.

Asplenium scolopendrium
in an uncovered drain.

Anyone might have stepped off the kerb into watery and frightening discomfort or terrible pain. Having avoided the peril, my interest was trivial - there were ferns in there - ferns I would never have been aware of otherwise.

Hopefully, we are coming to the end of rain and drizzle (alternating with shivering cold) and I’ll go back to clambering up and down no-longer-muddy banks and thrusting my camera confidently into non-wet bushes and under non-dripping leaves. In the short term - urban plants are getting more of a look-in.

The surprise find of a fern-in-a-hole sent me to look in other drains and gutters and to search through old photos too.

Asplenium scolopendrium
where there used to be a down-pipe.
December 12th 2010

Like this. Here is a fern in the narrow space where a down-pipe used to be between a door and a pavement.

Buddleia - December 12th 2010

On the buildings opposite, high up, a buddleia grows from a cluster of pipes.

In January, gutters running with water have been keeping plants green. I’m surprised they haven’t turned to mush. There are times when they have been submerged by water rushing towards drains.

Sagina Subulata (Irish Moss) (I think) Centre. Groundsel (Senecio vulgaris) to its left. Cleavers (Galium aparine) (top centre) with what appears to be some kind of squash sprout in front of it but probably isn't! Top right - some kind of dandelion style plant. There's also a seedling in front of the groundsel that looks more like onion than grass and could be a wild chive (Allium schoenoprasum).
January 17th 2011

Come summer, I expect them still to be there when all moisture is gone, happily growing in these almost soil-less places. Not only that, many of them will be flowering. These are tough plants of extremes. Why are they not showered with more admiration? Mostly, they are simply trodden upon.

A plant I don't like (how's that for science?) with Scarlet Pimpernel (Anagallis arvensis) (top left) (I think) and a Willow Herb (I think)(top right).
January 17th 2011

It’s swinging between stormy sunshine and dullness today. This morning, sparrows were twittering energetically and a collar-dove was chuntering on . . . and on . . .

It is half past two as I write. The sun has come out and the birds have mostly stopped. I can hear cars in the distance. A flock of racing pigeons is taking its exercise in circles against a blue-ing up sky.

(It won’t last.)

(She says grumpily!)