RAM, EWE, LAMB - A WALK IN THE WOODS BY HOLFORD

Sometimes I find I'm so familiar with the area I usually explore, I wish I were somewhere else! And, briefly, I was!

I went for another walk in the Quantocks - this time in a forest . . . or a wood . . . . ? I don't know what the difference is but this wood had a lot of trees in it (which is quite foresty) and I never came to the end of them (which is foresty too). But there was light drifting down through the branches (which is wood-ish) and it was 'magical' not 'frightening' . . . which heads it in the 'wood' direction because, in my mind, a forest has to be at least a little bit disconcerting.

The foot path followed a wide but shallow stream . . . and I followed the path . . . and here are some of the things I saw.

Fungi. Yup. Lots of Fungi. Here are some on a . . . birch? Um. Are they Birch Polypore Piptoporus betulinus? Um . . . They were about seven inches across and there were more above them in a line up the trunk - spaced into little clumps like this one.

And little black balls on a dead tree that had fallen across the stream. (I don't know precisely what these kind are but they are similar (only larger) to the ones I came across in a Dorset Beech Wood.)

And lichen? Yes. Lichen!

And ferns? Yes, lots of ferns. Plenty on the ground and some above our heads. Here's one on the branch of what I think is a Sessile Oak.

Flowers? Yes, there were oodles of flowers.

Here, where the trees are a little thinner and there's a tad more light - a Herb Robert Flower peeping through the leaves of Enchanter's Nightshade! (Which is also a gardener's nightmare.)

And here's a little Wood-Sorrel (Oxalis acetosella).

See oak leaves and blackberry leaves too?

And here's the stream.

And here are Caddis Fly larvae encased by the little pebbles they have each gathered round them for protection. You might like to enlarge this to see better. And have you noticed how clear the stream is?

And sheep? Yes. Since you ask there were sheep in a field on the other side of the stream at a point where it had taken a bit of a dip. So the field was up on a short bank - and there was a single strand of barbed wire around it.

Most of the sheep were quietly grazing, eyes down. But the ram in with them was running up and down bellowing, its huge fleece swaying dramatically as it leapt up onto a small promontory, roared and ran down again.  And for almost every bellow, a smaller call replied from our side of the stream - only high up so we couldn't see who was making it. On and on it went, bellow, cry, bellow, cry. Of course, as soon as I took out my camera, the ram ran down from the highest, most dramatic part of the view, back into the main body of the field. And the moment I began to film . . .  it ran behind a tree. So here is a video of a ram behind a tree bellowing . . . but listen. Bellow, cry. Below cry. (Then I'll tell you what happened next.)

Well . . . as you see, the ram was heading down to the other end of the field. We followed . . . and round a bend . . . there, waiting for him on the path, were the ewe and the lamb he'd been drawing down from the hill. So out he came from the field - under the barbed wire, along a little beach and over a ford in the stream, went right up to them, greeted them; then turned and started to lead them so he could show them the best place to cross the stream.

But when the ewe and lamb reached the water they hesitated and stopped. It was only a short distance so he was already scrambling up the bank towards the barbed wire but as soon as he realised they'd lost their nerve, he returned to them and encouraged them to get their feet wet. And across they went. And once he could see they really were fording the stream, he walked on a little to wait. And once they'd caught up, he led them under the wire and back into the field - where all of a sudden it was perfectly quiet and peaceful and everyone went back to eating grass.

(You might also like simply to listen to the video without watching. You will hear more that way.)

* * *

Places to go for more information

Caddis Fly  - on the Wildlife Trusts site.
Caddis Fly Larvae  (not for the squeamish) in the Life in Freshwater section section of the Field Studies Council site. 

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IDs with the help of iSpot.

BUNGING IN SOME STREET PLANTS

I was stropping around on the promenade in Minehead (Somerset) aggrieved because sea-side fish and chips should be the best - crispy batter, tasty fish - and mine wasn't (soggy, under-cooked, thick and stodgy batter, tasteless and distasteful fish) when I decided to sit on a bench where I could look at the wall which obscured the sea.

No-one was smiling much. I'd come up from the beach where a young man had been looking at his phone while he explained to a bored toddler in his charge that children are supposed to enjoy playing with the sand because that's what little children should do and that said little child shouldn't start climbing the steps back to the promenade in an endeavour to escape all this boredom . . . and went to sit on this bench.

For a sea-shaped bench it was surprisingly comfortable. I didn't mind sitting on wooden waves - especially when I noticed they were harbouring a veritable garden of little plants. The light was failing so pictures of the plants were mostly blurred - and I had to hurry because other people wanted to sit on the bench too and were looking on bemused because I'd got off it and was pointing my camera into it.

Coprinus

But if the sun had been shining and I had had more time - you too would have been wowed by the variety there.

Street plants are everywhere. We even sit on them!

Here's a toadstool growing between the slats of the same bench.

And another time this summer . . . while walking down a street beside the Oxford University Press (in Oxford) in the dark (I walk in sunshine some times) I saw this plant perched right up on the roof. If it hadn't been dark, if the lights inside hadn't been on, if the roof hadn't been made of glass - I doubt I would even have noticed it. But there it was. Lonely but proud.

Dotted Loosestrife - Lysimachia punctata

And to prove I do sometimes come out in proper daylight - here's a Dotted Loosestrife that invited itself to live beside someone's garden gate. A garden isn't a street - but this is a plant that had wandered in from the street so I reckon it counts.

And this isn't a street plant post - in the sense that on the 21st of alternate months I invite you to search for wild plants in the roads where you live - up on roofs, pressed against fences, lurking in curbs and hanging out on walls. But once I'd seen these I didn't want to lose track of them so I've posted them now.

The next Street Plant Post with a Link Box will be on 21st of October.

Between now and then there'll be a

Standing Still Link Box (Stuck-Foot posts) 

on 21st of this month - September 2015.

Over the next weeks my summer hectic-ness will be winding to an end and I'll be keeping up properly with posts so they coincide with their boxes. It's been a daft time. Thank you all for bearing with me!

ID with advice (as usual!) from iSpot.

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OF RESIN AND CONES

I've been waiting for a pine cone to fall from the tree I'm following and at last one has. The first, no doubt, of many. Compared with others I've seen in previous years, it's not large. How large? I don't know. I didn't have a ruler - oh . . . except I had my foot.

Here you see them; fallen cone, fallen needles and a foot to measure them by. (I always knew my foot would come in handy one day!)

There are many yet to fall. If my blog goes dead. If suddenly there are posts no more - it's probably because I've been struck on the head by a cone. Be warned!

Meanwhile, the trunk still captivates me; the trunk, its bark and its oozings.

Here comes a drip.

Some drips form planes.

Some . . . I don't know how to describe this shape.

Some grow . . . toadstools?

I'm still not clear whether this is a real fungus or a resin shape. I'll keep looking.

At the foot of the tree - a bramble has sprung up. It won't last here long. The grass is often mown.

And thinking of mown . . . the wind was roaring away up there in its high branches. (They are all high!) I recorded the sound - and discovered something . . . 

For a while, the wind waved the branches and the noise was pleasant and loud but at ground level all was still. Then the noise from the branches died away and the camera picked up on the breeze which had sprung up at head level. Two winds. Hadn't expected that.

I'm Following a Tree
Click Here to Find Out More

If you too are following a tree - the link box for June is now open and won't close till 7pm (UK time) on the 14th.

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DO YOU KNOW?

We're into a new month but there are pictures I don't want to leave behind - pictures of things I like or find interesting but don't quite know what they are.

This beetle, for instance. I think I know roughly it's of the Geotrupes genus - but I'll never know its name exactly. I understand some beetles in this group can be better identified when upside down but even if I were to rummage around in the leaf litter of the New Forest (Hampshire) how would I ever recognise it again? After all, there's only one Alexander Beetle. (Isnt't there?)

This one is about half an inch long and since I don't know what to call it (assuming it isn't Alexander) I'll name it Beetle of the Waving Hands. (See the end of its antennae?)

Then there are.lichens. These were growing huddled against each other on a fallen branch (again in the New Forest). 

Lichen 1 Pale and Feathery.

(Late addition to text - iSpot ID - this lichen could be Evernia prunastri.)

Lichen 2 Pale and Lumpy-flakey.

I know where I saw them but nothing more. Do you know their names?

And back in Dorset; I put a picture of this lichen on iSpot and it was identified as Cladonia polydactyla. But how do I know it's not Cladonia digitata?

Because I don't know how to tell, I'm going to call it Lichen with the Bloody Fingers.

I've had even less luck in finding out what these fungi below are. Both are tiny.

I'll call this the Ice-topped Toadstool. (It isn't really ice; just looks like it.)

These are even tinier. (About 4mm across?) I wouldn't have seen them had I not sat down with a flask of coffee to admire the view. They were in the shadow of a hedge but facing a huge drop and dip in the landscape. (Hence the view.) So are they in shelter or exposed? It depends on which direction you are looking! But, short of the Latin one, I'm stumped for a name. Any ideas?

* * *

REMINDER

The May link box for Tree Following posts

will be on Wednesday.

(7th May)

It will open 7am UK time (I hope!)

and close 7pm UK time on Wednesday 14th.

(Also I hope. It works automatically but not necessarily precisely!)

Extra Links
Beetles of the Geotrupes genus - on the Bug Guide site.

Dung Beetle Page on the New Forest Explorers Guide site

Dor Beetle upside down on the Beetles Page on the 'Bugs and Weeds' site - a Nature Observer's Scrapbook
The poem about Alexander Beetle is from 'Now we are Six' by AA Milne. Here it is - unsung! (Called 'Forgiven' in the 'original'.)

Alan Silverside's Lichen Pages
Fungi Identification Guide - on the First Nature site.
Toadstools for Gardeners - On the RHS site
Beginners Guide to some of the Common Types of Fungi - in the Amanita Photo Library

The Loose and Leafy approach to naming plants and fungi - The New Linnaeus

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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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IN THE GRAVEYARD - OCTOBER 2013

As part of my 'wild plants that grow in cities' project I recently visited an urban Churchyard.

When I was younger, I used confidence as a power shield. I wasn't stupid enough to imagine this made me invincible but it worked pretty well.

Hanging in my cupboard over the years, un-needed, underused, it's grown threadbare and moth-eaten. But that day I suddenly felt I could do with it again for when I went through the gate I realised the wooded area behind the Church was full of raised voices. I faltered. It was a good guess, I reckoned, that there would be bodies attached to the voices and they might not be friendly bodies.

I'm not a linguist but the voices sounded Polish. There are a lot of Poles in England nowadays. All the dentists at my local practice are Poles and every one of them has been a darned site better at dentistry than any dentist I've had before. They seem to be remarkably adept at treatment without pain. None the less, however good Polish dental schools are it seemed unlikely that these graveyard woods would be full of Polish dentists haranguing each other so, as I said, I faltered. All I could think of was that these were migrants who hadn't found work and had set up an encampment. Would they be happy to have an English blogger wandering through their dispute? I never found out. For all the time I was there loud voices floated from among the trees but I never approached and they didn't emerge to approach me.

I stood for a moment, should I walk forward? It was the third Churchyard I'd tried in an hour. The others hadn't had graveyards - just tarmac, gravel and well tended flower beds. So I gathered up the tatters of my shredded confidence, drew them round me - and walked on.

Within a few steps, I was, once again, disconcerted. A young couple rose from a grassy area between graves. They seemed to be pulling on their real clothes as firmly as I was tugging at my invisible protection. Forward still? Yes. Why not? I slid my eyes aside and walked purposefully up the slope. Steps. A tomb. Plants growing along the plinth. Great!

I was just about to crouch down to get them in frame when two young drinkers clattered round from the other side with cans and a bicycle. Now what? We greeted each other cordially. I explained what I was doing. They asked. if I would like them to move out of the way. I said all was fine. So they sat chatting with each other while I crawled around with my camera. (That's one of the troubles with plants. They mostly grow on the ground.)

I took my pictures, thanked them (after all, I had intruded on their space) and went back down towards the gate. Should I leave? No!

Skirting the voices among the trees, I found bittersweet (Woody Nightshade) on the edge of the wood.

And fungi near a contoneaster seedling (do you reckon?)

and more fungi. These yellow ones were several inches across. I didn't touch them to find out if they are merely shiny or slimy too.

I'm not going to attempt IDs.

But . . . after photographing more graves and ivy and a sweet chestnut shell . . .

I hurried away for the train back home - full of puzzles, pictures and a cheerful sense that, with a little bit of work - a stitch here, a patch there - my old and tattered cloak of (almost) invincibility could possibly be worn once again with pride.

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THE FUNGI

Since there's no particular order in a wander, I might as well start with my favourite picture. It's of Candlesnuff Fungus (Xylaria hypoxylon).

Candlesnuff Fungus (Xylaria hypoxylon)
November 17th 2012

This year is the first time I'd come across it and it was so tiny (though my book says it can grow to 6cm high) it might easily have been missed. It was growing on a felled tree trunk. When I first saw it, I thought it might be 'Stagshorn Fungus' (Calocera) because some of the white tops look just like antlers - and it rang a bell. But, no, Candlesnuff - like little grey wicks with white ash left where the flame has been blown out. (The white 'ash', says, my book (*), is produced by asexual spores. It also says it's very widespread and very common. Apparently, it grows all year round but I've never noticed it before so I'm thinking of writing a book for myself in which it's described as 'incredibly rare' and 'a wonderful find' and things like that.)

A long time ago, in another part of the wood (14th November 2009) I came across what looked like burnt chestnuts on fallen twigs.

King Alfred's Cakes (Daldinia concentrica)
November 14th 2009

 I didn't, then, know what they were. I may now. (Slow cooking, this blog!) . . .

King Alfred's Cakes (Daldinia concentrica)
November 17th 2012

If you have been reading Loose and Leafy over the last few years, you will know I give fungi new names. Not only do I find my names easier to remember than those invented by others, it means no-one will be tempted to use this blog as a sure and certain route to identifying them. So, for me, these are Continental Chocolates. But, it turns out they are really . . . King Alfred's Cakes (Daldinia concentrica)!

Sometimes, things are confusing. What is what?

Lumps on bark of living beech.
November 17th 2012

There were lots of these lumps on Beeches - on some trees more than others. As you can see, they seem to be pushing up, alien style, through the skin of the trunk. This picture was taken from the ground and the little lumps were at quite a distance from the lens but they are clear enough to get the idea. I'm assured these are not fungi and have been given the suggestion that beech bark damages easily so this is some kind of . . . of . . . something that gets in . . . a bacterium . .  ? I don't know. Whatever it it, it seems odd for there were masses of them and all in lines . . . how did apparently healthy trees get damaged to this degree?

Probably Ganoderma
November 17th 2012

It's a hard life, being an amateur and an ignoramus. This post would have appeared much sooner if it hadn't been for the next fungus..

Probably Ganoderma
November 17th 2012

This specimen is about two inches from top to bottom and two inches across at its widest. Following my habit of giving things names, I thought it looks like a hoof. Lo and behold, there is a Hoof Fungus (also called Tinder Bracket because it's useful when lighting fires) so, naturally, I thought this must be it. However, when I looked it up, I had two problems. Hoof Fungus is more likely to be found in Scotland than in the south of England and, in the pictures I found, it has a cream underside whereas this one is pink. Which means, bother, it probably isn't a Hoof Fungus after all, even though it looks like one and is a Ganoderma instead. (There's more than one kind - but I'll leave that up in the air.)

This last picture (the one below) is of Lumpy Bracket (Trametes gibbosa).

Lumpy Bracket (Trametes gibbosa)
November 17th 2012

The name of this fungus puzzles me. Masses of fungi are lumpy. I think 'Dragons Scales' might be a good name. Or maybe 'Grebe' fungus - because it seems to carry its offspring (or 'outcrops?) on its back. The green, by the way, is an algae - not the colour of the fungus. (And, if the focus seems odd - it's because I was concentrating on the tiny fragment of lichen.)

* * *

For the woods where these fungi grow,

see last week's post

Walking in the Woods

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*Collins Complete Guide to British Mushrooms and Toadstools

If you need help identifying fungi - try Ispot (can't praise it enough)

You might enjoy browsing through The Beginners Guide to Some Common Types of Fungi

And Visual Fungi is a good site too.
Earthfast Imgages (Roger Butterfield's Photos)

Members of Facebook might like to take a look at the Dorset Mushroom Hunters Page

WALKING IN THE WOODS

This is really a post about fungi. I have to tell you this because, if I don't, there will be no way of you knowing because, after this paragraph, they won't be mentioned again until the end. But it's good to have a context. These woods are the context for the fungi in the next post and for them, you will have to wait!

They are on the edge of the River Stour, which runs beside Blandford Forum in Dorset and which is, as you can see from the gulls swimming on the grass, prone to flooding in wet weather. The woods themselves, at least on the bank we are about to walk along, are on enough of a rise to be mostly protected from the water and they are, I reckon, one of the most beautiful places you could ever be.

They are wonderfully and sensitively managed; the lightness of touch is impressive - old logs left and lots of undergrowth but paths kept clear so people (and horses) can walk through safely. To get there, it's a bit more than half an hour's walk followed by an hour's bus-ride from the places I usually show you so forget the sea, forget pebbles . . . and, in winter, you can think snow.

November 17th 2012
The grey behind the leaves is the water of the Stour.
Some  branches are branches, some reflections.

At the beginning of the walk, there are yew trees. After that, at this time of year, it's the beeches which most attract my eye. The ways through the woods are wide so it's reasonably safe to look up as you walk; though it is, in places pretty muddy.

Some of the leaves, as you can see, are quite a deep bronze. Others, brighter.

And, under foot, a carpet of both - with more and more falling as you walk.

(Notice the ivy?)

Through the trees, you can see St Martin's - the church of Bryanston School.

If you keep going (which you have to unless you turn back, there's no-where in between!) you will come out beside it, or near it (depending on the route you take) and, all the time, you will have been looking out for fungi - or, at other times of year, maybe . . . beetles? I don't mean it's rock solid with fungi - but there are enough to make it extra interesting, especially because they are not the same as the fungi I know from the woods nearer home.

* * *

For the post about the fungi in this wood, click
HERE

How are the trees you are following doing
 now it's autumn?
My elderberry seems pretty mundane
compared with the beeches in
these woods but,
not withstanding,
I'll catch you up with it soon.

For the post about the fungi in this wood, click

HERE

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