Englandshire - Fini!

February 13th dawned wet. Not that I noticed, I slept through until well gone 8am. I looked outside and stared in puzzlement at the rain. This was the first rain I'd encountered during my time in England and I'd almost forgotten what it looked like. But this was the weirdest rain I've ever seen, it was falling downwards rather than sideways like it does back home on Skye. Proper freaky, the weather really is messed up nowadays.

As planned, we bundled into the car and headed into deepest darkest Berkhamsted. An earlier scan through the BSBI maps showed relatively few plant records for large parts of the town. Mark asked me to keep a species list whilst we wandered the streets so that our findings could be added to the BSBI's database. No problem buddy, list-keeping is what I do best! What I didn't manage to do very well was take any photos. So I can't show you the Thale Cress, Dove's-foot Cranesbill or Swinecress that were yearticks for me. I can't show you the sprawling patch of Persian Ivy at SP99200805, the Wilson's Honeysuckle at SP99240805 or the Greater Snowdrops at SP99160807 that were lifers for Mark either. Poor show.

We wandered beneath some railway arches, noting large piles of dried pigeon droppings along the base of a wall. "You know what that looks perfect for, don't you?" asked Mark. "Yeah, Adistemia watsoni!" I replied. Mark agreed. Adistemia is a tiny beetle that is very occasionally discovered indoors (I've found it twice here on Skye) and is only exceptionally discovered outdoors, and piles of pigeon droppings appear to be a favoured habitat. We looked up, expecting to see pigeons. What we actually found were a good number of Maidenhair Ferns growing out of the brickwork above our heads. I climbed a perfectly-placed bicycle toast rack (go Google) which instantly put me three feet closer to the ferns than everybody else. Not that it improved the quality of my pics any...

Maidenhair Fern Adiantum capillus-veneris at a brand new site for Hertfordshire

According to the BSBI database, there are only five known sites for Maidenhair Fern in Hertfordshire, one of which is in Berkhamsted approximately 400 metres away from our plants. Reckon the BSBI Recorder for Hertfordshire will be happy with this one!

Basically, there's only one been one other record this century!

So that was nice. Pleased with our unexpected find, I performed a perfect backward somersault off the toast rack, noting what appeared to be several Black Spleenwort hybrids growing on a nearby brick column as I cartwheeled across the concourse. We took a closer look

Clearly these are all bog-standard Black Spleenwort Asplenium adiantum-nigrum. But they looked weird at the time!

At the time, we all thought these showed characteristics of Wall-rue, hence the possibility that we were looking at hybrids entered our minds. Looking at these images, I think we were mistaken, they seem to be standard Black Spleenwort to me. It's been recorded from this site before too. 

Some fat knobber, overjoyed that he's found hybrid spleenworts....or not

We headed into the grounds of nearby Berkhamsted Castle in search of plants growing on the ruined walls. Wall Speedwell was present along with good numbers of a small plant I didn't recognise. Mark thought he knew what it was and Jo recognised it instantly, confirming Mark's initial thoughts. Me? I was clueless, even though my spreadsheets later told me it's a plant I first saw 24 years ago. Not sure I've seen it since, mind you!

It's one of those small chickweedy-type things, innit?

This is Thyme-leaved Sandwort Arenaria serpyfolia, a common plant across most of Britain, and one I must have overlooked countless times. I certainly didn't recognise it, that's for sure. I really need to pay more attention to these 'small chickweed things', I'm doubtless overlooking various species. 

One 'chickweedy-type thing' that was difficult to overlook was this beast, found growing in pavement cracks in the High Street

Despite being huge, this is Common Mouse-ear Cerastium fontanum

We quit the High Street and headed for a skatepark that Mark and Bradley were clearly very familiar with. Mark produced a particularly pimped remote control truck from the back of his car, screwed a few bits together, checked it had power and gave Bradley the controls. Within seconds the truck was careening around the carpark, over a bridge and was last seen heading to the skatepark at about 200mph. Blimey, knocks spots off the one I had when I was a kid! By the time we caught up to Bradley he was drifting it around the bends, skidding up the ramps, going airborne over the bumps and handling it like he was born with the controls in his hands. "It's not working properly, dad. It won't go fast enough" he said to Mark. What, you mean this thing goes even faster?? Mark calmly took the control from Bradley and about five seconds later we were hit with the sonic boom as he revved the nuts off the truck and sent it hurtling around the skatepark at ridiculous speeds. I watched in a mild state of awe as Mark masterfully sent the truck skidding at breakneck speed around the park, casually lifting his foot at one point as it headed for his ankle at 150mph before it cleared probably 30ft of air as he launched it off a half pipe, landing it on its wheels, obviously. I already thought Mark was a pretty cool fella anyway, but this was a whole new level of cool, boss level cool in fact! Quiet, professional coleopterist by week, savage RC drifter of a weekend. Who knew.

We once again returned to Eaton Bray, before Mark and I headed out to find some trees I needed for the year. First up was Midland Hawthorn in a nearby churchyard, a known site for it. We found maybe twenty or so hawthorns, but each had just one stone in each berry meaning they were Hawthorn Crataegus monogyna, a very widespread and common plant throughout almost all of Britain. We even get it on Skye. Finally Mark called me over to check a hawthorn that had two stones in one of its berries. There was precisely one berry left on the tree that we could reach, I couldn't afford to fumble this! With great care I split open the berry and was pleased to note the two stones within, making this tree Midland Hawthorn Crataegus laevigata - the first one I've knowingly seen for a good few years! Before I'd pulped the berry, we noted the larger-than-normal size of the berry and the remnants of two styles, not one. High above us were more berries, all looking pretty large, and all out of reach. To commemorate my first Midland Hawthorn sighting in several years, I took this singularly awesome image of it. 

Could this be the worst possible pic of a Midland Hawthorn? Probably so, yeah.

We figured there was maybe an hour of light left, Mark had a plan. I aimed The Gibstermobile towards the horizon and we sped off chasing one final target for the day. Eventually we arrived at a small canalside car park - I recognised the spot, we'd been here a couple of years earlier, trying to find Demon Shrimp in the canal and finding lots of Water Scorpions instead. We had a larger target in mind this time and half a mile down the towpath we found it

Proper Black-poplar Populus nigra subsp. betulifolia

As you can see, it was starting to grow dark by the time we arrived at these huge Black-poplars. Mark explained how the typical Black-poplar outline is of a gently leaning main trunk with strongly curved lower limbs that droop towards the ground. I took a twig away with me and keyed it out using the Key to Winter Twigs, no problems whatsoever, it went straight to Populus nigra subsp. betulifolia. Sweet!

The next morning I bade a fond farewell to Jo and Mark, and had to physically pry Bradley from my leg several times, before heading northwards up the motorways. I would be in Scotland by nightfall, but I had a couple of sites I wanted to visit before crossing the border. It's always a pleasure staying with The Telfers; good humour, great food, maybe a glass or two of wine and always the thrill of knowing that at any gven second Bradley could come hurtling through the air with a roar, set on pinning you to the ground and then making you piggyback him around the room at silly speeds. I love it!

I didn't make great time, but eventually I was parked up on a familiar-looking patch of roadside moorland somewhere in Nidderdale, North Yorkshire. Red Grouse called all around me, but my eyes were to the ground by my feet. A few moments later and

Alpine Cotula Cotula alpina - a worryingly invasive alien plant

This was my second visit to this patch of Nidderdale, on both occasions I was here to see the Alpine Cotula which, in Britain at least, it is currently known from several areas of moorland in Yorkshire and in an area of moorland north of Ullapool - and that's it. Quite how it arrived in what is essentially the middle of nowhere is anybody's guess. The original finder has written this account which provides the backstory of this plant's history in Britain. You may recall that Ghostie and I eventually found Soliva sessilis in a New Forest campsite a couple of weeks ago (see this post). Cotula alpina is closely related to Soliva, though it lacks the skin-penetrating burrs. 

Job done, I headed northwards a little further, stopping only to admire a roadside Barn Owl hunting over a grassy field

My next destination was Gainford Spa in County Durham, this would be my third time visiting the site. As per usual, I parked up and walked the ten or so feet to a large patch of Spotted Dead-nettle. Despite it being quite a widespread plant in Britain, this remains the only place I've ever seen it growing in the wild.

Spotted Dead-nettle Lamium maculatum. I was too early for flowers this time

Heading through the woods, I soon found myself alongside the river. I've been here twice before in search of the gorgeous Yellow Star-of-Bethlehem. My first visit was almost a washout, the river was running very high and I was lucky to find just one plant, right by the water's edge. The following occasion I couldn't find any Yellow Star-of-Bethlehem at all. How would I fare this time, I wondered. I was soon to find out

Yellow Star-of-Bethlehem Gagea lutea in profusion - stunning!

I soon spotted many curiously hooded leaves emerging in small clumps and wondered if that was the Gagea. A little more searching led me to several plants that were in bud, a close look allowed me to see the yellow petals just peeking through. Finally, I found a plant that was almost fully open, gorgeous yellow colour easily visible at a distance of several metres. What a truly lovely little plant this is! No sign of the rust fungus that occurs on this species, but I wasn't complaining. I spent a little while with them, this being the only site where I've encountered the species. The spa itself may stink to high heaven, but the plants are very special indeed.

Happy with my success at Gainford, I cut cross-country to pick up the M6 and headed north, stopping that night at the Gretna Services, safely back in Scotland once more. Not sure when I'll next visit England, possibly not until next year now, but it was truly great to catch up with Ghostie, Danny the Pirate, Dorset Pete, J and the Ladies and The Telfers once more. My plant yearlist stood at 488 species, incredibly that included FORTY ONE lifers, and it was still only mid-February!!!! Unprecedented, I've never had such an incredible start to a botanical adventure as this. And I still had a couple of days left before I needed to be back at work. I had gen for a few bits and bobs that I would try for tomorrow, there was still juice left in the tank yet. How far could I push this, I wondered.

 

On a completely unrelated note, it is precisely thirty years to the day since Bodycount released their first album. It seems almost rude not to air a few of their more gentle tunes (warning - the lyrics are exceedingly explicit!) Hope you enjoy!

Attacked on the Chalk

That evening I arrived in the village of Eaton Bray, home of child prodigy Bradley Telfer; black belt in all things Minecraft-related and really rather good at making shurikens out of paper. It's also where Mark and Jo Telfer live and once again they were letting me stay for a couple of days. Mostly, I feel, so that Bradley could get his annual fix of beating me up, but also so that we grown-ups could spend a bit of time together and hit some local sites in search of plants. This would prove to be the first time I'd ever spent more than about ten minutes in the field with Mark and not be shown beetle lifer after beetle lifer. In fact, for the entire duration of my stay, we didn't poot, pot or collect a single invertebrate. And that's definitely a first!

Bee Orchid Ophrys apifera  - one of several growing in Mark's back garden

Things started well the following morning; Mark returned from a wander around the back garden with news that the Bee Orchids were sprouting in the lawn. A couple of minutes later and we'd counted six plants, basal leaves only at the moment. This was a very welcome jam for me, Bee Orchid is decidedly uncommon throughout most of Scotland, seeing them in Mark's garden had saved me a lengthy jaunt down to the border area. Jo works for the National Trust and has an intimate knowledge of her local reserves. Mark suggested we ought to see about locating Great Pignut, a plant that was completely off my radar, and Jo soon came up with a list of sites we could try. I consulted the BSBI database and before long we were at nearby Totternhoe Nature Reserve where I discovered that I'm very rusty with chalk-loving plants. Happily for me, Mark was almost as rusty. Between us we managed a nice slew of species including Field Scabious, Greater Knapweed, Wild Basil, Burnet-saxifrage, Cowslip, Yellow-wort and Carline Thistle, all new to the year and all tricky/impossible in Scotland.

Burnet-saxifrage Pimpinella saxifraga - absent from Skye, but widespread in eastern/southern Scotland

Bizarre pic of Greater Knapweed Centaurea scabiosa. Perhaps I was trying to be 'arty'?

Carline Thistle Carlina vulgaris - common here but a scarce and strictly coastal plant in Scotland

Yellow-wort Blackstonia perfoliata - this is a crippling rarity in Scotland

And what of our target plant, Great Pignut? Well, I spotted what I took to be bog-standard Pignut growing along the entrance track onto the reserve, then a bit more a few hundred metres further on. We had a specific search area in mind, one where it had been recorded several times in recent years. Arriving at the appointed spot we soon found....Pignut. Umm...shouldn't it be Great Pignut? I picked a frond and ran it through the Veg Key, inconclusive. Meh, I needed a stem rather than basal leaflets. In the end I popped a couple of sprigs into my notebook and we headed off to look at some dead orchid spikes. I took precisely two images of the entrance track pignut, both are shockingly poor, and none at all from the appointed patch of hillside

Terrible

Anyway, much to our surprise, it transpires that Pignut Conopodium majus only occurs at one spot on the Totternhoe Reserve, a part we didn't visit that day, whereas Great Pignut Bunium bulbocastanum is widespread, including along the entrance track! Bugger, I wish I'd managed to get it to key through at the time. That evening I did successfully key the sprig in my notebook to Bunium, which was taken from the known site. We actually saw quite a lot of it there. Great Pignut is a terrific plant to find in Britain. It's pretty much entirely restricted to Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire, with just a handful of outliers elsewhere. A full on lifer for me, even though I didn't realise I was looking at it until hours afterwards.

Jo knew a slope with at least six species of orchid growing on it. We found metal tags with the words Musk Orchid etched into them, and a couple of wire cages laying at the bottom of the slope. The cages presumably sit over the rarest plants to stop them from being grazed/trodden on. But at this time of year our only clues were literally hundreds of dead spikes from last year and a handful of newly emerged basal leaves, certainly not enough for us to attempt an ID. I bet this place looks amazing in the summer.

We spied the leaves of a milkwort and alarm bells started ringing in my head; I recalled that there's a rare one that occurs on chalk and fumbled for the book. Jo made mention of Chalk Milkwort being present on site and quickly pointed out dozens of last year's dead flowerheads all around us. Happily the key made it Chalk Milkwort too - sweet, there's absolutely no chance of me bumping into this plant anywhere north of The Midlands. As is now customary, I took yet more rubbish pics

Chalk Milkwort Polygala calcarea - note the leaves are bunched up at the top of the stem

We left the main part of the reserve and wandered the edge of a huge field in search of arable weeds. Mark presented me with a couple of tiny clovers to key through. The ground was a bit mucky, so I used my copy of Stace 4 as a seat and set to, oblivious to the approaching danger.....

Bradley (in blue) was playing miles away. I (in black) was temporarily safe from being beaten up 

O-ho! The sneaky so-and-so had me fooled, I wasn't safe at all!

Me, still oblivious, as Bradley assumes his attacking pounce stance

What happened next was too quick for the camera to catch, but essentially I sensed Bradley's silent approach and combat rolled to the side as he threw himself at me. Bradley found himself sprawled on the ground instead of on top of me as I rolled back, pinned his arms to his side and tickled him in the ribs until he finally screamed 'No More!' and tapped out. Then I tickled him some more, just for good measure, before letting him up. He may have speed and youth on his side, but I have cunning and weight on my side.

"Seth, am I your best friend ever?" 

"Yes Bradley, I think you probably are"
"Good. Shall we play Minecraft later?"

After Bradley's attack had ended, we returned to Eaton Bray for food before heading back out that afternoon. Our destination this time was a great big hill with lots of steps in it. I later asked, "what was the name of that hill with all the steps?" to which Mark replied, "are you being serious? It's called Steps Hill." Oh right, I thought that was just what Bradley had named it. I Googled it, it really is called Steps Hill...

Anyway, there were several plants that we could have seen on Steps Hill had we been visiting in the summer months, notably Pasqueflower. But we weren't, so we didn't. We did find some Common Rock-rose Helianthemum nummuarium, which I would never have IDed by myself but Mark recognised the leaves straight away. I can't even remember the last time I saw a Common Rock-rose. It's very widespread in eastern Scotland, hopefully I'll find some in flower later this year. We also found a few very small plants of Dwarf Thistle Cirsium acaule, which is a plant that doesn't occur anywhere near Scotland, hence I was pleased to see it whilst down south. Mark and Bradley know this plant as the Picnic Thistle, a very good name for it too!

The one plant that we (well Mark) was hopeful of finding was Spiny Restharrow. I've never encountered this plant before, Mark was pretty sure we'd find it at the base of Steps Hill. I was looking for a low, sprawling plant, what I didn't expect to see was a whole row of scraggy bushes running alongside the footpath we were walking

Large clump of Spiny Restharrow Ononis spinosa looking, at first sight, to be dead

Fresh leaves just sprouting from the woody stem

Massively cropped pic showing green shoots on the woody stem

Spiny Restharrow was a lifer for me and I was very glad that Mark had put in the effort to place us in the right habitat for this plant. It's very scarce in Scotland, I'd envisioned a lengthy drive down to the Solway coast in the summertime to see this plant. Once again, Mark had saved me a lot of mileage. Mind you, I'd still like to see it in full leaf and in flower, ungrateful wretch that I am!

It was fast approaching dusk, so we headed back to the car. At one point we needed to cross a field full of sheep. For some reason, two of them started trotting after Bradley as he scampered and capered ahead of us. Two became six, then ten, and pretty soon every sheep in the field was looking up to see what was happening. I'm not sure if anybody has ever been trampled to death by sheep, but Bradley quickly stopped capering about and thankfully they soon lost interest. 

Tomorrow we were heading into Hertfordshire to do a bit of slum botany in a large town. No danger of sheep attacks in a town but, for myself at least, there would be a very real risk of continuing Bradley attacks. I vowed to keep my wits about me on the mean streets of Berkhamsted.

Talking of attacks, I couldn't narrow the choice to just one track - so have three. Hope you enjoy!