March Catch Up

I'm still terribly behind on the blogging. Today is catch up day, seeing as the snow is steadily falling outside. 

I stuck local during the first half of March, not leaving the northern part of Skye. The second half of the month saw me wander slightly further afield onto Raasay and then onto the Scottish mainland where I had a fantastic day in the Inverness area. This post will summarise the local stuff.

March 1st was a glorious sunny day, if a tad chilly, and I took myself off towards Dunvegan in the west. First stop was a large quarry which nowadays is used as a dumping ground. I saw my shadow for the first time on Skye this year and took a pic to commemorate the moment

Yes dear reader, I am in fact a tiny-headed, ten foot tall amputee...

Dunvegan Quarry, or the washing machine graveyard as I like to call it

As you can see, the quarry is a little damp underfoot at this time of year, but the raised areas hold some interesting plants and I year-ticked White-stemmed Bramble Rubus cockburnianus in all of its glory. 

Rubus cockburnianus. It looks (slightly) better in the summertime

I couldn't find much else of interest in the quarry, but give it a couple of months and it will be much more productive. I had a little explore of the lanes north of Dunvegan Castle and stumbled across a roadside verge which held twenty eight clumps of Pendulous Sedge Carex pendula. 

As the map shows, Pendulous Sedge is an uncommon plant on Skye, in fact I'd never seen it in the five years I've lived here until I found this patch. Annoyingly, I must have driven past them at least a dozen times in the last few years.

 

Londonpride Saxifraga x urbium growing on a mossy bank near Dunvegan

The following week I headed down to Portree Woods in search of who-knows-what behind the houses at Budhmor. I've previously found Common Mock-orange Philadelphus coronarius growing by the river banks and there's a mature Japanese Red-cedar of unknown provenance not too far away. It would be very useful to know the history of this woodland, is it natural or was it planted? Are the exotics planted, are they naturalised from garden throw-out material or are they birdsown? I spent a while trying to refind the Spring Crocus that Stephen Bungard found here a couple of years back, no luck on that front but I did find a fairly substantial conifer that defied keying through using Stace 4. I took some pics, bagged a sprig for later determination and moved on.

Note the bark hanging in strips

Not one of the usual suspects

Back indoors I keyed this sprig to Hinoki Cypress Chamaecyparis obtusa, which seemed unlikely at best. It's not in Stace 4, which would explain why I couldn't ID it in the field. I sent the images to Stephen Bungard, who asked me to send him the specimen. He also keyed it to Hinoki Cypress and forwarded it to Matt Parratt, the BSBI Referee for conifers. Happily for us, Matt confirmed it as C.obtusa and a new plant for Skye. Of course, the lingering question remains - is it wild or was it planted? I'll probably never get to the bottom of that, but I do plan to undertake a bit of investigation into the history of the woodland here.

A wander further upstream turned up some nice plants, lots of Ramsons were emerging and Opposite-leaved Golden-saxifrage flowers were starting to open up. I also found a single Flowering Curant looking resplendent in the sunshine.

Ramsons Allium ursinum - one of my very favourite plants

 

Opposite-leaved Golden-saxifrage Chrysosplenium oppositifolium being visited by a springtail

Flowering Currant Ribes sanguineum looking decidedly beautiful

Bluebells are starting to come up, along with the Bluebell-specific rust Uromyces muscari

A couple of hours later I was back near the houses and had a quick look for further alien species. I soon found this

Wood Dock Rumex sanguineus var sanguineus - new to Skye

There are only two other Scottish records north of Edinburgh for this plant. It's undoubtedly originated from garden plants that have been illegally fly-tipped into the woodland, but is seemingly doing well for itself now. The red vein colouration gives it the somewhat dramatic-sounding common name of Blood-veined Dock. Realising this would be new to VC, I sent a few images to Stephen Bungard who queried whether it could be Chard. I reckoned not, since the veins curved back and were all wrong for that. He came back with "anastomosing!" and a link to what the word meant in botanical terms. I knew there'd be a clever word for it...

 

The rest of the week was taken up with work, though a strong aurora helped brighten up a dull week. My camera doesn't have an option for long exposure (or if it does I don't know about it) so these images are a very poor representation of the marvel that was happening overhead just before midnight on 13th.

Ordinarily the aurora up here is a bit, dare I say it, a bit...naff. Hazy white shimmers skittering across the sky is about as good as it usually gets. Or maybe I just miss all the good ones. But this one dominated the northern horizon and the green colour was pretty intense. I've never seen the rising green columns before, you can see that I've fluked capturing the start of one in the bottom image. Definitely my best aurora yet, I watched it for maybe twenty minutes until the clouds rolled in and spoiled the fun. I'll have to play around with my camera settings for next time, these pics really don't do it justice at all.  

On the 14th I daytripped across to Raasay, where I met up with Stephen Bungard. Our mission was to sample the polypody populations in one particular area in order to determine whether Polypodium interjectum was present. Most of our samples were Polypodium vulgare but we did successfally find Polypodium interjectum, new to the area. We also found a few other bits n bobs, including lots of Green Spleenwort, a plant I only saw for the first time last month!

Green Spleenwort Asplenium viride - and lots of it too!

Wilson's Filmy-fern Hymenophyllum wilsonii - curiously difficult to focus on (that's my excuse...)

Yellow Saxifrage Saxifraga aizoides found growing on a cliff ledge

Other highlights included the first Goldenrod, Common Valerian, Hay-scented Buckler-fern, Hairy Rock-cress and Red Fescue of the year (I'd already seen lots of what I've suspected to be Red Fescue earlier this year, but Stephen confirmed the stuff we found growing on rocky ledges was it). I also learned that there's a thing called Mossy Sandwort Arenaria balearica growing along the village walls and Slender-leaved Pondweed Potamogeton filiformis growing in a lochan in the centre of Raasay. Looks as though I'll be back at least a couple more times this year. 

My yearlist at the end of the day stood at a very healthy 529 species out of the hoped for 1000. 

I've only heard three or four tracks by Aurora, mostly not really my kind of thing - but she has a truly mesmerising way of pulling you into her world through the magic of her voice. Her mind is hardwired a little differently from most, perhaps, but the results are startlingly genuine and pure. Just watch her body language as she immerses herself into this story for us, both enchanting and frightening at the same time. Hope you enjoy!

Down the Elgol Road

It appears that I'm still just a little behind with the ol' blogging. I reckon I can bring it all up to date in the space of just a few more posts, it's not as though I've been out very much since settling back into work after my jaunt down south. But first of all, let's finish February.

On 28th February I headed down the beautifully scenic Elgol Road, as perfectly captured in this video. Luckily for me, I made it there and back without requiring "four spare wheels, a spare exhaust and lots of f*cking patience". However, the knocking coming from my front suspension reminded me that I really ought to book the car in to get it fixed sometime soon.

I dropped in to Cill Chriosd, which has a shallow loch situated on the limestone. You know you're on limestone up here because all of a sudden deciduous trees are everywhere, it's pretty much that simple. The loch, being calcareous, is home to some decent aquatics including Fen Pondweed Potamogeton coloratus which occurs here at what is almost its northernmost global outpost. But the water was just too high for my wellies and I soon waded back to the shoreline. I shall return in the summer once the water level has dropped sufficiently.

The nearby woodland has several lively burns cascading through the rocks and one of these has a decent patch of Mountain Avens Dryas octopetala growing on ledges. A nailed on yeartick, you say? I'll have a bit of that, thankyou. Well I thought I knew where I was heading, but I somehow ended up on a different burn than expected and came face to face with a plant I've been hoping to encounter for a number of years now.

Green Spleenwort Asplenium viride - I found four clumps growing in close proximity to this burn

Note the elevation!

I was clambering up the burn, hopping from rock to rock, ever thankful for the grippiness of the limestone. As soon as I clapped eyes on the plant in the top image I thought, 'hmmm, why does that Maidenhair Spleenwort look all frazzled and weird (clambered closer) ...er... (clambered even closer) ...holy shit! Green Spleenwort!' (cue frantic scrabbling for the camera - y'know, just in case it 'escapes' or something).

I'd already started to make rough plans for seeing Green Spleenwort this later year. Initial thoughts included either somewhere bleak along the Trotternish Ridge or up a mountain in Perthshire. To randomly stumble across it at low elevation here on Skye was an unexpected stroke of good luck. And it's just so much more satisfying to self-find something rather than twitch it. Eventually I peeled myself away from that particular section of burn, found Mountain Avens at the usual spot and headed further towards Elgol with a second species of pondweed in mind.

Water Horsetail Equisetum fluviatile deposited along the bank

This small lochan is a known site for Red Pondweed Potamogeton alpinus. In fact, I think this may be where I first encountered the species. Anyway, it was still exactly where I'd left it the last time I was here, which would have been the day I showed it to Ali and Pete after our adventure in Spar Cave last year. Can't say it was looking at its finest, but it will improve as the season progresses

Quality pic of Red Pondweed Potamogeton alpinus...

Flushed with success (or maybe embarrassment), I quit the lochan with Red Pondweed safely under the belt, so to speak. Another couple of miles south and I arrived at Kilmarie, a definite favourite site of mine with a chunk of really nice woodland, lots of plant diversity and a good few habitats squeezed into a couple of square miles. It's great for entomology, though that was not on my mind on this occasion, and it's also where I found a singing Common Rosefinch last year. But I was here for plants, so headed into the small cemetery as an obvious starting point. 

You'll probably have noticed me banging on about polypodies a few times lately. The Skye Botany Group, of which I am part, are currently undertaking a survey of Polypody Polypodium vulgare and Intermediate Polypody Polypodium interjectum with an aim of establishing a better idea of their distributions and abundances, along with the hope of finding their hybrid Polypodium x mantoniae. No conclusive sign of the hybrid so far, but the more you look... I soon noticed an awful lot of polypodies in the cemetery, some on the boundary wall, some on the trees. I saw what appeared to be a very clear interjectum and took a sample for the project.

Polypodium interjectum - they really don't come much better than that!

I then spied a clump with pretty manky-looking fronds and reduced sori. Plus one absolutely enormous frond poking out between them. I looked closer, wondering if I'd finally found the hybrid P. x mantoniae

Possible Hybrid Polypody. Note the huge frond on the right of the clump

Suspiciously reduced sori size and quantity

Blurry pic of the enormous frond which resembles Polypodium vulgare in general shape

I collected two samples from this patch, one of which was the outsized frond, and finished my skirmish around the cemetery, noting twenty or so Spurge-laurel plants coming up where they and a huge Rhododendron thicket had been recently cleared. No sign of Rhododendron regrowth, which is a good thing, but I was glad to see the Spurge-laurel hanging on at its only known Skye locality.  

Back at the car I took a moment to look at the polypody fronds I had collected

Polypodium interjectum on the left, putative hybrids centre and to the right

You'll have to just pretend not to see the crumbs all over the passenger seat. I tend to use it as a surface on which to lay my sandwiches/pasties/crisps whenever I'm eating whilst driving. Sorry 'bout that. 

The nearby river has stepping stones to the far bank, though a couple were submerged due to the high water level. Soddit, what's the worst that could happen I asked myself as I neared the first submerged stone. Sadly for you lot, the worst didn't happen and I made it to the far side without falling in. Of course, I still had to make it back again afterwards. 

My target here was Prickly Heath Gaultheria mucronata. It does all too well for itself in the poor soil at the top of the beach, a guaranteed addition to the yearlist. I guess it was introduced as a garden plant, or maybe as cover for gamebirds, but once it gets a hold it's a highly invasive menace. If I see a seedling, I tend to uproot it. 

Prickly Heath Gaultheria mucronata. You can see it in the background too, bloody stuff

If you look really closely, you may be able to see a few pale streaks of hail in the image above. Those pale streaks turned into a shockingly heavy downpour which was actually quite sore and stinging as it lashed my bare head. Damnit, I didnt have a hood or hat - ouch! Thankfully it only lasted a few minutes, I felt mildly flailed. 

I contemplated the stepping stones once more and, figuring I'd be pushing my luck to try it twice, chickened out and headed a few hundred metres upstream to a nice, safe bridge. Back indoors that evening I checked my three polypody samples. The obvious interjectum candidate was indeed Polypodium interjectum, and a lovely specimen too. That went straight into the press (actually an A4 pad with several heavy books piled on top of it). Rather disappointingly, both of the potential hybrid fronds were also Polypodium interjectum. It really is a very variable beast, I'd been hopeful that I'd found the hybrid at last. 

Music time again. There's no reason for tonight's offering, other than it's late and I can't be doing with trying to find something more relevant. All the same, hope you enjoy! 

Multimedia

Late last year I tried for Intermediate Wintergreen Pyrola media on top of Ben Tote, which is located about seven miles south of here. I tried and I failed. Thankfully Ben Tote is not precisely monstrous, the summit being 113 metres with a mere 62 metres of prominence. I could walk up that with my hands in my pockets (though I'd almost certainly fall over, it's a bit wet and uneven in places). Here's a map I made for myself a few months back, one of many I produced in preparation for this year's Botanical Odyssey. 

Complicated, huh...

The roadside Pyrola minor (Common Wintergreen) shown on the map above would have been a lifer for me, except that Ali Shuttleworth showed me a large patch of the stuff in Fife earlier this year. The Skye plant was originally found by the previous BSBI Recorder who happened to live just a couple of hundred metres away from it. Her successor, Stephen Bungard, also saw it some years back, but the whole area is now covered in scrub and he has failed to relocate it recently. Apparently it was only a single plant anyway, I tried for it twice but came away empty handed. I didn't even attempt looking for it on this occasion. 

Parking up, I headed once more to the summit of Ben Tote in search of Intermediate Wintergreen, determined not to come away empty handed this time. Stephen had given me an extra clue as to where to look. "It's on a narrow raised bank that runs across the summit. I'm surprised you missed it last time". Oh right, that would be the narrow raised bank I walked along on my first visit before criss-crossing the wet moorland beside it in search of the plant. Damnit, I'd probably been standing right next to it!

View of the raised bank on top of Ben Tote, looking northwest(ish) and east(ish)

Forewarned is forearmed, I walked the full length of the raised bank, found nothing of note, crossed over to the opposite side and walked back down the full length once more. A-ha! Halfway back I suddenly spied a rounded leaf poking out from beneath an unruly mop of Heather. Teasing the Heather upwards revealed a total of four rounded leaves, each on a long petiole - bingo!

Intermediate Wintergreen Pyrola media

Pleased to have found the wintergreen, I scouted around just in case there was a second plant nearby. Continuing my transect of the raised bank I soon found another plant just a few metres away, excellent!

Initial view - largely hidden beneath heathers

Same plant temporarily exposed for a pic and for me to record the position. The latter a bit pointless at 3m accuracy!

I found four plants in total, which was three more than I was hoping for. I may well have missed others, the heather was quite leggy in places. Somehow I doubt I'd be able to convince the local crofter to strim the bank, but maybe these plants would flower if exposed? Intermediate Wintergreen is well-known as a shy flowerer at the best of times and this population has never been known to flower at all, hence the DNA analysis to confirm the ID. 

These are the other two plants that I found, the last one was actually quite large

There's quite a sizeable fungal leafspot on this plant. I didn't want to uneccesarily pick the leaf so, feeling relatively confident that I'd subsequently figure out the identity of the fungus by consulting books and checking online, I left the plant intact. Thus far I've drawn a complete blank. It looks like a Ramularia perhaps, but none are listed for Pyrola, just a couple of rusts. Very frustrating!

Music time, folks. If I were to ask you, who was your favourite Muppet, I expect you'd say An-i-ma-a-a-a-a-l. Obvious really. Well, this two piece band grew up together, went to school together and are now Black Pistol Fire together. I think they're bloody excellent. You may disagree, but you'd be wrong... Anyway, just keep an image of Animal in your mind's eye as you watch this. I give you Oh Well/Where You Been Before by Black Pistol Fire, hope you enjoy!