Wednesday 20 September 2017

Welcome, fledgling identifiers of 2017/18

CC image by Stu
I am, I admit, entirely biased - but surely this is the one of the best assignments you'll work on all year. Not only will you develop enviable new skills, but you'll have a perfectly legitimate excuse to go for walks in the countryside whilst feeling guiltless that you're not slaving over an essay like your pitiful housemates.

There are many options to choose from, so you can pick something:
 - you'll find personally interesting and motivating to learn about,
- which suits your talents (for example, some things are physically fiddlier than others, some require a love for learning new terminology, some require a keen eye),
- that is possible given any constraints on your travel (most collections can be made locally, but seaweeds and ferns, for example, might need more distant excursions),
- that doesn't offend your ethical and other sensibilities (some collections necessitate death of invertebrates, and another has the potential to create truly revolting smells).

My main piece of advice is to start soon. Many groups are easier to find before the wintery weather sets in, so have a think and a preliminary scout about now. When you decide on something and start your field diary (as you certainly should) then you'll find a 'little and often' approach soon builds up, and this is an excellent way towards getting a good mark. With plenty of time before the hand-in, you can fit your collection round your other assignments, and I hope even find working on it an enjoyable change. Some people get really into their subject - it could help decide what you choose for your dissertation next year, or beyond into a job.

I'm always glad to talk to enthusiastic people to help with collection and identification advice, so don't be put off if I'm scowling (it's the beginning of term). Drop me an email or pop by to OJ16.
Rhiannon

Tuesday 19 September 2017

Autumnal tips for tree-hunters

This weekend I went on a very pleasant, if slightly muddy walk through some ancient woodland near where I live. If you're interested in nature, you have to tread a bit of a fine line when you go for a walk with Normal people. You can't stop for everything that looks intriguing, or your companion will constantly find themselves talking to the empty air twenty metres ahead. But if you're walking somewhere local that you can return to, you can file away particularly interesting spots into your brain. There were some very mossy spots on my walk that I might come back to.

Ulmus glabra (public domain image)

But the point I want to make to potential winter twig collectors, is that you don't have to wait until the leaves have fallen before you get your eye in. It's not cheating in my book, because it's expanding your ability to recognise trees generally. Plus, if you're looking for lots of different species to make your collection excellent, spotting more unusual things as early on as possible is sensible, as they may not be so obvious once their leaves have gone. And then at least you know whereabouts to look.

It was because there were still a few leaves about that I noticed some of the understorey shrubs looked a bit different. And they turned out to be Wych elm (Ulmus glabra), which I was rather chuffed about (it's one of those species I still have to get straight in my head). I found some English elm (U. procera) last year, and that was in a hedgerow (as one would expect), but this Wych elm was in a wood (also as predicted by the books). So that was nice (and the sort of thing you could write about in your field diary).

Wych elms, incidentally, aren't connected with witches. You might have heard of the ghastly unsolved murder "Who put Bella in the Witch Elm" but really they're just words that sound the same. Wych is an Old English word meaning 'pliant and bendy' and Welsh bows were traditionally made from wych elm (Giraldus Cambrensis mentions it in a description of his trip around Wales in the 1180s).

Anyway, before I diverge too far - that's my tip. Go for a walk along hedges and streams and in woods, and see which native species you can identify now. You might be able to collect some relevant fruits and seeds at the same time. The crazily neon spindle berries are looking great at the moment.


CC image by Derek Harper
Update: 25th September.
Jim, Emma (our new GIS specialist, whom you may meet soon) and I have just been wading through knee-high wet grass in the parkland by the big yellow house near the motorway. Not particularly for fun, but to put out some 'refugia' (tiles under which snakes, lizards and slow worms might like to hide) for students to monitor the local reptile population. While out there I spotted some ash seeds - they'd be a good addition to your ash twig.


They're called 'ash keys' because I guess they hang together in bunches like keys. The seed itself is at the top end, and the bottom is a slightly twisted thin wing. The wing presumably helps the seed flutter a bit further away before it starts to grow. Various species use such a device: perhaps it would be fun to also include winged seeds from field maple, sycamore, and elms (if you can find any at this time of year).

If you collect ash keys very early in the year and pickle them, they're supposed to be quite delicious. I suppose it depends how keen you are on pickled things. I keep forgetting to have a go, unlike the blogger of Country Skills for Modern Life.

The other things I brought back were some hawthorn fruits ('haws'). They're mostly seed with only a thin layer of fruit, so not that tempting unless you're a hungry bird. Though I have read that they make a better hedgerow gin than the traditional sloe gin (and that is something you can make at this time of year).



There are two native hawthorns in this country, the common one (Crataegus monogyna) and Midland hawthorn (C. laevigata). You can tell by the scientific name of Common hawthorn that it has one seed (mono-gyna). The Midland hawthorn has two. Kevin Widdowson has a good comparison here. I don't think I've ever knowingly seen a Midland hawthorn, as otherwise the two species look very similar. It's one of those things that would give me a nerdy buzz. They're not particularly common in this part of the world (see the distribution map on the NBN Gateway) but if you don't find any and are heading to other parts of the country at Christmas, you could keep your eye out.