What do Giants, Wings and Oysters all have in common?

I awoke to discover that the overnight rain had cleared through and, after demolishing a breakfast baguette and coffee from a superbly placed chuck wagon, I set about exploring the corners of Springkerse Industrial Estate, quietly nestled in the eastern outskirts of Stirling. I'd parked in an overgrown layby and noticed a track running through a small slither of woodland and into another road on the estate. I immediately set off to explore. New for year plants here were carpets of Field Forget-me-nots and quite a bit of Perforate St John's-wort, but my eye was quickly caught by a large plant with huge spiky leaves - what the heck was that then?

I admit to suffering a bit of a mind-fart moment at this point. I figured it looked like Bear's-breech but with more spiny leaves. And the stem was clearly bristly. This made it Spiny Bear's-breech Acanthus spinosus, agreed? Stace 4 thought so too, sweet. Ambling my way around the estate it was pretty obvious that it has naturalised very thoroughly in carparks, in roadside verges and across any areas of wasteland. What I didn't do was attempt to run a plant through a key. Very slack and a fine exhibition of poor botany skillz...

Young growth, a paler green than the more mature leaves

I eventually quit Stirling and sped off westwards into Ayrshire, but couldn't shake a niggling feeling that I was overlooking something regards the big-leaved plant. Surely an Acanthus would be more glossy than the leaves I'd seen? Unsure, I continued through the lowlands and it and it wasn't until I got home several days later that a helpful chap on the Scottish Botany FB Group put me right - my plant was young Giant Hogweed Heracleum mantegazzianum! Then another chap waded in telling me not to touch it, that I'd get caustic burns, I'd go blind and then probably burst into spectacular flames, assuming I hadn't already died of lung failure first. I deleted the post in the end, he was doing my head in. My only excuse for not sussing it straight away is that I've only ever seen it ten feet tall in full flower and usually along watercourses, and not for about ten years now anyway. That and the fact I'm an idiot.

Me touching Giant Hogweed (moments later my hand turned black, withered and fell off. Obvs...)

I slowly worked my way down towards Ayr. In my early teens I lived here with my grandpa and, though he died some years back now, I always take a wee drive down memory lane when I'm in the area. I did a slow drive around some backstreets, noting that most of the pubs have gone and new cul-de-sacs have sprung up everywhere at some point in the recent past. Taking the coast road southwards I eventually arrived at Benane Head with its Green-winged Orchid populations. I took a fruitess wander around some meadows and skirted a couple of hills with no sign of orchids, quit and tried another area. This time I looked up from the herb-rich grassland I was wandering and spied purple spikes in the middle of a sheep-grazed field - oh right! Quickly hopping the fence, I soon found myself kneeling next to my first ever Green-winged Orchids, and what smart little plants they are too

Green-winged Orchids Anacamptis morio - superb little things! 

I had a quick scoot around and counted forty eight spikes in an area of maybe fifty metres by about ten. Doubtless I missed lots, but I didn't fancy inadvertantly trampling on others that may not have developed spikes yet. Very happy to have finally connected with this orchid, I wandered back to the car where I found another spike in the recently strimmed roadside verge.

Early Hair-grass Aira praecox

A terrestrialised water-crowfoot....

Even the experts out there agree that once a water-crowfoot has become terrestrialised, you need to walk away and pretend you never saw it. They do weird things (experts and terrestrialised water-crowfoots both), submerged leaves may not develop (crows-foot only) and they're not exactly easy to identify when they're not doing weird things! The only species that's been previously recorded at this location is Ivy-leaved Water-crowfoot, which it does look good for, but I'll leave it as 'aquatic Ranunculus sp'. Hopefully I'll get another chance with a typical example at some point soon.

Ailsa Craig

As you can probably tell from the images, the weather was absolutely stunning. We could do with a few more days like this on Skye. I wandered my way further south and followed my nose to the pebble beach of Ballantrae. A sudden thought hit me, I had a site for Oysterplant from a pebbly beach somewhere around here. I could picture the aerial pic in my mind, a sharp bend in the road by a long lake at the top of the beach. I looked down the road to where it sharply bent around the corner. Wandering down I spied a long lake....holy shit! I recalled the Oysterplant grew somewhere level with the southern end of the lake, though up on the shingle obviously. I set off full of hope. Ten minutes later and

Oysterplant(lings) - how very bloody marvellous!

I've only ever encountered Oysterplant way up the east coast of Scotland, and it's a long walk along an arduous beach. So to stumble across the best part of ten individual plants a five minute walk from the road was both a massive relief (sore foot, remember!) and a very welcome jam indeed. It's also just a really special plant, there's nothing else out there like it. Pity I was here too early in the season to find it flowering, that would have been the icing on the cake. Then I turned around....

Full-sized Oysterplant in flower!

I had to cast my shadow across this plant, the glare off the pale cobbles was playing havoc with my camera, but it gives a better idea of the true colour of the bluish-coloured leaves. It's a really great plant, such a shame it's becoming rarer and rarer. It used to occur on Skye, but all known plants have now been lost. It could still be clinging on somewhere, I'd love to rediscover it on Skye. It will probably never happen, but I live in hope.

Plenty of other stuff was growing out there in the shingle. Considering this is a popular stretch of coastline and quite close to houses, I'm amazed the vegetated shingle has survived so well

From top to bottom we have Sea Campion, Sea Beet, Common Cornsalad (2 pics) and Sea Sandwort. The cornsalad was a bit of a cheat, what you're meant to do is check the mature seeds, whereas what I actually did was check the distribution and habitat maps. Common Cornsalad is known all along this stretch of coast and occurs on shingle, amongst other habitat types. The other cornsalads don't - simple!

At the top of the beach, where the cobbles end and sandy soil begins, I found another suite of plants. Best of the lot, from my perspective, was Sand Sedge. I refound this at a Skye site where it hasn't been seen since the 1970s, and I've seen in in Cornwall twice. But that's it, so to self-find and identify it at a further site was a nice little bonus for me. My pics are all crap though!

Sand Sedge Carex arenaria and a photogenic set of huts

I turned The Gibstermobile northwards and set off once more, very happy to have stumbled across the Oysterplant and just soaking up the incredible weather. I spied an awful lot of flowering Tuberous Comfrey lining whole stretches of roadside verge and finally found a spot to pull in and check them out properly

Tuberous Comfrey Symphytum tuberosum with nettles on a roadside verge

I took a sprig back to the car and keyed it through properly, just in case. A few miles further up the road I found another layby and another comfrey, which I also keyed through properly

As expected, this is Russian Comfrey Symphytum x uplandicum - a common plant even on Skye

Right next to it was a large stand of Greater Celandine, but with weird over-developed flowering parts. This is Chelidonium majus flore pleno, a garden cultivar that has presumably been dumped here at some point in the past.

I've seen flore pleno Snowdrops fairly frequently, and occasionally I'll see a shrub with flore pleno heads, Kerria japonica springs to mind, but I had no idea that Greater Celandine had ever been cultivated as a garden plant or that they came in a flore pleno form. Google assures me that they really do, so I guess that's what these are. I pulled off a leaf and copious orange latex quickly bubbled to the top, just to double-check. 

Water Horsetail Equisetum fluviatile is well and truly on my Ayrshire list

I didn't have gen for anything else down south, so took a long drive northwards, planning to spend the night at Logierait in the Pitlochry area. There were a fistful of plants in the Logierait area that I still needed for The Challenge and although I was pretty sure I still had a healthy lead over Ghostie and Dorset Pete, a few gimme species certainly wouldn't go amiss. 

At some point or another I wandered into a random patch of woodland, finding white-flowered Pink-purslane which confused me. I also found a couple of young buck Roe Deer messing around and managed a quick video grab of them. It's not exactly Attenborough worthy, but I thought I'd share it anyway

I later pulled into a layby somewhere along the A9 north of Perth, just for a break from driving. I gave it ten minutes trying to relax and then grew bored. A quick scan around was worthwhile with this tall grass grabbing my attention

Lots of nice obvious features on this grass

If I haven't royally messed up, which is a distinct possibility when it comes to me and grasses, this should be Soft-brome Bromus hordeaceus. That's what I made it anyway. Hairy Tare was another yeartick from the layby, not at all a common plant back on Skye but well distributed in Perthshire.
 

My final plant of the day was Motherwort, growing in exactly the same place as it was the first, second and third times I saw it. In fact, I've never seen it anywhere else! This is what it looks like after dark

Motherwort by night. Which sounds like the name of a Scandinavian folk band

Motherwort by night was plant species 619 for the year. I'm definitely exceeding my expectations and, as I would soon find out, it was only going to get better tomorrow.

Music time and I'm feeling like something a bit lively and loud. Motörhead were supposedly the loudest band out there, so they'll do just fine. Crank it up, make it worthwhile. Sing for us with that beautiful voice of yours, Lemmy. Hope you enjoy! 

Mainland Madness

With the coming of spring, which typically arrives during the second or third week of June up here, I decided to make a start on my jaunts onto the mainland in search of various delectable plant species which simply don't occur on Skye. Ordinarily this would see me undertake a quick dash across the bridge, kip in the car for a night, then head back late the following day. A bit restrictive, but the best I can manage on my work rota. That's how it would ordinarily work. This May has not been very ordinary though...

After a particularly shite day at work, I needed to head off. I jumped straight into The Gibstermobile and hit the road. I kipped that night in the Sugar Bowl car park just downslope of the main Cairngorm car park in Speyside. A Pine Marten crossing the road in my headlamps and several Mountain Hares bounding through the heather were stand out highlights, along with a fish-carrying Osprey alongside Loch Ness. The following morning saw me check in on various plants including Dwarf Birch, Large-flowered Selfheal and Drumstick Primrose. Sadly, I'd neglected to grab my camera (or a coat...) before hitting the road, so there's not much more to say about that trip, doubly frustrating seeing as I checked a roadside larch plantation and discovered it was all Japanese Larch Larix kaempferi, the abundant self-seeded saplings and seedlings along the verges being my 1500th species of vascular plant in Britain. I took a sprig back with me and took pics of that, not very photogenic but hey, it's number 1500! If ever you find yourself on the B862 a little south of Stratherrick, pull over and check any larch plantations you see because it'll probably be this.

On 7th May I stayed local and wandered the woods south of Portree. There's a mysterious cotoneaster that has been determined by the BSBI's Cotoneaster referee as Cotoneaster serotinus, which would be the second British record and new for Scotland. In the absence of flowers, which would help confirm that determination, Stephen Bungard and myself remain slightly dubious of that ID. I've been popping in every few weeks to see if it's produced flowers yet, no luck so far. However, I did find Heath Pearlwort Sagina subulata on the track which pleased me no end. It's not a rare plant on Skye, though it's only the second record in that 10km square, but I've only ever knowingly seen it twice before. It's the sort of suitably tiny thing that makes me happy.  

Heath Pearlwort Sagina subulata - with my GPS for scale

Lodgepole Pine Pinus contorta stands out like a sore thumb at this time of year with these impressive flowering structures

Sitka Spruce Picea sitchensis is also putting out a lot of fresh growth as the days lengthen, many of the trees are liberally daubed in pale green tips which make them look very distinctive from a distance

This is about the only part of  Sitka greenery that doesn't hurt when you grab it!

Bugle Ajuga reptans - one of my favourite springtime flowers

The grass that is really catching my eye at the moment is Sweet Vernal-grass Anthoxanthum odoratum which seems to be absolutely everywhere. The features that help confirm its identity are the white threadlike stigmas, Nazi salute of the upper stem leaf and the long hairs (hairy nostrils) on the auricles. Also, if you smell the root it has a weirdly antiseptic kind of smell. If scratch and sniff PC screens are ever invented I shall be sure to take a pic of the roots for you.   

Sweet Vernal-grass Anthoxanthum odoratum and some of its identifying features

Developing Wood Horsetail Equisetum sylvaticum looking particularly lovely

That evening it all kicked off at work and I rather carelessly managed to fracture my hand. Apparently this happens when folk punch foot-thick solid stone walls, who knew... Two hospitals, one splint, one sling and four hours later I was back at the hotel a little after 1am. I dare anyone to night drive forty miles on Skye's winding, mountainous roads whilst wearing a sling, it's certainly interesting! The next day a doctor signed off me off work for a week for being a nutjob. In need of a bit of headspace, and to get away from Uig for a while, I went on a roadtrip. Wow, I should have thought of this years ago, haha! With Scotland as my oyster I headed off that afternoon; just me, some plant books, a map, my tarp and a box of happy pills from the doc. Adios Skye, I'll see you in a week!

Starting at the furthest point possible whilst still being in Scotland, I headed into Berwickshire. St Abbs Head was calling me, luring me onwards with the promise of a very smart little flower that I was particularly keen to meet up with. I made it to about Dunbar before needing to sleep and awoke the next morning feeling vaguely refreshed and ready for botanical action. 

I spent about an hour quartering the steep, herb-rich grassland at the top of some pretty spectacular cliffs, searching for Spring Sandwort without any luck. I had gen that told me it was abundant in this area, I decided that I wasn't leaving until I'd found it. More criss-crossing cliffop slopes ensued. 

Purple Milk-vetch, Lady's Bedstraw and Early Purple Orchid

Purple Milk-vetch was an unexpected find in the short sward on steeper sections of slope. I don't know why, but this wasn't even on my radar. St Abbs Head is absolutely perfect for it, and it was lovely to finally encounter this charming little plant for the first time. Doubly lovely to see it flowering in profusion too. The Lady's Bedstraw had me puzzled for a while and I almost always struggle with the 'purple-coloured orchids' but I'm happy this one is Early Purple Orchid.

Quitting the slopes in exasperation, I spied some nearby rocky outcroppings and figured I'd check them over for some light entertainment and a change of scene before getting back to the grassy slopes. 

I should have started here.....

I was still approaching the rocky ledges when I caught sight of clumps of small white flowers...ah! I quickly closed the distance and was soon squatting amongst dozens of Spring Sandwort cushions. Checking the book (something I ought to have down earier) I discovered that Spring Sandwort grows in rocky areas, not in maritime grassland sward - doh! 

Spring Sandwort Sabulina (Minuartia) verna

It was actually somewhat larger than I was anticipating, putting me in mind of Knotted Pearlwort rather than the tiny thing I was expecting. Again, it's always a good idea to read the books beforehand! I scanned the rockface and guestimated a couple of hundred cushions of Spring Sandwort, and there was plenty of rockface that I didn't check. Lots and lots of plants. 

Also on the rockfaces were abundant cushions of Common Rock-rose (suddenly the name makes sense!) and quite a few Sticky Groundsel, though none of the latter in flower yet. It was pretty windy, hence the 'action' shot of the rock-rose!

Common Rock-rose Helianthemum nummularium and Sticky Groundsel Senecio viscosus

On the loop back towards the car park I wandered the top of Kirk Hill in search of the Knotted Clover that occurs up there. No luck, presumably it's just too difficult (for me) to pick out when not in flower. There was lots of Red Clover up there though, also not in flower, and a few other bits and bobs but it wasn't easy in the wind. Further around, there's a nice Guillemot colony on a tall stack, pic below and then cropped. There are more higher up too, the white rock is their guano.

The next site on my agenda was an area of undercliff right down by the English border. In fact, at one point I was within 500 metres of England. Was I tempted to head south? Was I heck, lol. 

View from the A1 bridge at Lamberton - just 450 yds north of the English border!

The much better view looking northwards from about a mile north of the English border

There's a particular plant that has a colony about a mile or so along the clifftop path, Silky Lady's-mantle Alchemilla glaucescens. Its British stronghold is the Yorkshire Dales, but there are a few outlier colonies in Scotland and this one is the best with over 500 plants present. Over 500, and yet in the three hours I was on site I found none at all. Nada. I'd like to say it's too early in the season for it, but it's not. I'd like to say I was in the wrong place, but my GPS told me otherwise. I'd like to think I'm a good enough botanist to spot the pretty damn distinctive leaves of an Alchemilla, but clearly I'm not. Meh, I honestly don't know where I went wrong with this plant. I did see an awful lot of Cowslips, which were lovely, and I found a couple of hundred Meadow Saxifrages growing alongside the railway track, which were the first I've seen for many years and the only ones I've ever seen in Scotland.

Cowslip Primula veris and Meadow Saxifrage Saxifraga granulata

The weather turned decidedly nasty, thankfully I made it back to the car as the first fat raindrops began to fall. The rain didn't stop for the rest of the afternoon, I wasn't sure where to head next, but I figured I may as well stay in the deep south whilst here. I checked the map, Edinburgh wasn't a million miles away, which meant I could be looking at Forked Spleenwort by the end of the day. Heading northwards I eventually crawled through the worst traffic I've encountered for some while to find the upper road around King Arthur's Seat has been cordoned off! I forgot to mention, when I punched the wall I also hurt my foot quite badly. After walking around St Abbs Head in the morning and then the cliffs at Lamberton in the afternoon, the thought of walking up to where the Forked Spleenwort lives was just too much to seriously consider. Arse. Instead, I headed into Alva to yeartick the Fern-leaved Corydalis that grows on a wall, only to find the wall has been cleaned up and the plant is no longer present. Bugger. At least I'd had a great first half to the day. I kipped somewhere near Stirling that night, deciding that in the morning I would undertake a spot of slum botany around a sprawling industrial estate and then head into Ayrshire for Scotland's only Green-winged Orchids, which ought to be looking at their finest about now. Doubtless I'd bump into a few other bits and pieces whilst in the south. I slept better that night, my head was unwinding and my hand wasn't quite as painful as it had been. Good stuff, tomorrow would be fun. 

I ended the day on 608 species for my plant yearlist, Spring Sandwort and Japanese Larch being the two lifers I'd gained so far into May.