OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

500 dead bumblebees – pesticides leave their deadly trace

Earlier this year, Sheila Horne was walking at Hacton Parkway, a public park and conservation area in Havering, East London. April is normally a good time to see insects in their prime so she was very surprised to find many dead and dying bees near the path. She alerted local naturalist, Tony Gunton who identified the insects as bumblebee queens from three species, red-tailed, buff-tailed and common carder. This was not a minor incident, there were as many as 500 bees affected.

Natural England was appointed to investigate the insect deaths and samples of dead bees were sent to FERA in York for analysis. The results were released a few weeks ago and showed that the bees were contaminated with the neonicotinoid insecticide imidacloprid and two fungicides, flusilazole and epoxiconazole. Imidacloprid is very poisonous to bees with bumblebees being more susceptible to this chemical than honeybees. Imidacloprid is now subject to a two year partial ban for some agricultural uses. Neither fungicide on its own is especially toxic to bees although flusilazole is due to be phased out this October because of its high toxicity to fish and because of other potential toxic effects.

But where did the bumblebees pick up these chemicals? We cannot be sure but as so many dying bees were found together in one place, it seems likely that the source of the poisoning was close by. Hacton Parkway lies alongside arable farmland and at the time of the poisoning some of the land was planted with flowering oil seed rape, so it is a reasonable conclusion that the bees had been feeding there. It is thought that the crop had been sown in autumn 2013 using seed treated with imidacloprid, just ahead of the ban. According to John Rennie of Natural England there had been no spray applications of insecticides or fungicides since the beginning of 2014.

So, why did these bees die? Because there are so many unanswered questions we cannot be sure. The imidacloprid used on the oil seed rape has been blamed by some but I can’t see how this could be a problem if the farmer followed safety guidelines. There is good evidence that exposure to typical agricultural levels of imidacloprid does not kill bumblebees although there is also good evidence for sub-lethal effects on behaviour and reproduction. It is, however, becoming apparent that neonicotinoids such as imidacloprid accumulate in soil so perhaps exposure levels of the dead bees were higher than expected. Soil testing would be informative here.

There is also the question of how the bees were exposed to the two fungicides if no spraying was performed during the flowering season? Does this mean that these chemicals persist for long periods or has there been spraying elsewhere? Perhaps the fungicides weakened the bees or made them more susceptible to the imidacloprid. There is some evidence for such interactions for other insecticide/fungicide pairings.

Although the investigation continues, it may be quite difficult to resolve some of these questions. Despite this uncertainty, the results of the chemical analysis stand. These bees died with three chemicals in their bodies: one insecticide and two fungicides. This was no laboratory experiment; this reflects what is happening around us when these chemicals are used. Our agricultural practices have led to this and the result is the deaths of important pollinators. How often is this occurring on a lower level but not being noticed or reported?

With thanks to Tony Gunton for talking to me about this incident

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Hedgehogs, hyssop and strewing meadowsweet – looking back at the Garden in August

 

Beech nuts
beech nuts

 

August failed to deliver the holiday heat we expected and the unseasonable cool made us more conscious of the approach of autumn. Looking around, there was palpable change, particularly in the look of the trees. Some showed tantalising hints of autumn tints but, for many trees, the season changed their appearance in a different way. The fresh, bright green leaves that had signalled the headlong rush of spring growth now lacked lustre. Also, from our kitchen window I could see a lime tree that seemed to have been painted with impressionist-daubs of pale yellow-green giving the tree a lighter look. A closer examination revealed that the tree was covered with seeds and pale ribbon-like bracts; these will eventually fall together and the bracts will act as sails to aid seed dispersal. Another tree, a beech, exhibited a mass of fuzzy brown nuts, as if afflicted by a plague of small hedgehogs. Soon, however, the leaves will fall, the seeds will have their chance and the trees will await another spring.

Lime bracts and seeds
lime seeds and bracts

 

Leechwell herb garden
the herb garden

Down in the Leechwell Garden, there was still plenty of interest, especially in the herb garden. Several clumps of hyssop were in full flower and their colour, one sky-blue, the other pretty in pink, caught my eye. In the sunshine these new faces also delighted the bees.

Hyssop and bumblebee
hyssop and bumblebee

 

 

Echinacea
echinacea

 

Globe thistle
globe thistle and bumblebee

Bright pink echinacea and steel-blue globe thistle continued to flower valiantly providing welcome food for insects. I love the symmetry of these two flowers, a tribute to nature’s hidden plans. A tall mullein with a few residual yellow flowers overbalanced under its own weight like a drunk at the bar.

 

Artichoke
artichoke

Nearby, I found the massive flower heads of an artichoke topped with their punkish purple fuzz. The oversize blooms look like monster Scottish thistles and indeed artichokes are members of the thistle family cultivated for their edible buds. There is something primeval about the flower heads; fortunately the plants cannot move, otherwise we might have a prototype triffid. The blooms are also bee-favourites and I saw a red-tailed bumblebee seemingly drunk on the nectar.

 

water mint
water mint

The water flowing through the Garden from the Leechwell is very popular with visitors but it also attracts its own floral signature. Water mint, noticeable at this time of year for its many mauve flowers, dips its feet in the water and grows here prolifically. Richard Mabey in Flora Britannica tells the story of William Sole who, in 1798, wrote about the different kinds of mint and their particular smells. Sole likened the smell of water mint to “a ropy chimney in a wet summer where wood fires have been kept in winter”. This is too much for my nose and all I could detect was a strong minty smell.

 

meadowsweet
meadowsweet

The fragrant, frothy flowers and dark green foliage of the damp-loving meadowsweet were also in evidence growing near the stream. John Clare wrote about this plant in his poem, “Summer”:

The meadowsweet taunts high its showy wreath
And sweet the quaking grasses hide beneath

In the 16th century, meadowsweet was a popular strewing plant; its leaves were spread on floors to provide a crude carpet and a pleasant odour. The foliage of the plant emits a sharp aromatic scent and Gerard, in his herbal, extols the virtues of strewing meadowsweet: “the smell thereof makes the heart merrie, delighteth the senses”; it is said that meadowsweet was the favourite strewing plant of Elizabeth I. In contrast to the odour associated with the foliage, the creamy-white flowers have a different scent which, to me, is sickly sweet.

Meadowsweet has long been used in folk medicine to provide relief against mild pain. We now know that the plant contains chemicals similar to those in willow bark, another natural analgesic. These naturally occurring molecules were used to develop aspirin and the name of this widely consumed drug was derived from the old botanical name of meadowsweet, Spiraea ulmaria.

I wrote last month about the departure of the swifts. It turns out that this was slightly inaccurate as on the evening of August 10 two more appeared over the Garden; I suppose these swifts were on their way to the coast as we didn’t see them again. They were then replaced for a few days by a group of house martins. These are not as acrobatic or as quick as the swifts but it was good to see them swooping and twittering to one another as they harvested the insects.

The featured image at the top of this post shows a pollen-loaded honeybee on mullein.

This is the ninth of my diary entries for the Leechwell Garden;  to see the others please put “Leechwell” in the search box.

seaweed 5 mod 2

The Queen of Seaweeds – the story of Amelia Griffiths, an early 19th century pioneer of marine botany.

In 2010, the Royal Society compiled a list of the ten most influential female scientists in British History. One of the ten was Mary Anning (1799-1847) who from humble beginnings in Lyme Regis, Dorset came to be recognised as the “greatest fossil hunter ever known”. Her discoveries of long extinct, fossilised creatures in the cliffs around Lyme Regis were central to the development of new ideas about the history of the earth at the start of the 19th century. She became an expert in her field but did not get the recognition she deserved because science at the time was an exclusively male profession. Nowadays she is receiving this recognition and the fascination of her story has spawned biographies, novels and children’s books. The Lyme Regis Museum has well-developed plans to build an extension, to be called the Mary Anning Wing.

349px-Mary_Anning_painting
Mary Anning

I had thought that Anning was the only prominent West Country female scientist of her time until, walking along the coast path near Torquay recently, I paused to read an information board. This included a panel dedicated to the work of Amelia Griffiths (1768-1858) “who collected and preserved nearly 250 species of seaweed ……. one of the first women to be recognised for their contribution to science.” Never having heard of Griffiths, my interest was piqued, especially when I discovered that, in the 19th century, she was described as “facile Regina – the willingly acknowledged Queen of Algologists”. [Seaweeds are large multicellular marine algae.]

So who was Griffiths and what did she do?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Part of the information board that alerted me to Amelia Griffiths

Amelia Warren Rogers was born in Pilton, North Devon in 1768. In 1794 she married Rev. William Griffiths and the couple moved to Cornwall. Eight years later, her husband died suddenly under mysterious circumstances leaving his widow with five young children but not without money. Amelia Griffiths decided to leave Cornwall for Devon, living first at Ottery St Mary before settling in Torquay where she could best follow her favourite pursuit of studying seaweeds.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
One of the Torbay coves that Griffiths may have frequented when she lived in Torquay. Plenty of seaweed is still visible.

For much of her adult life she collected seaweeds avidly: in north Devon and Cornwall, in Dorset and along the East and South Devon coasts. When she began, identification of species was difficult as many had not been named or clearly described so Amelia devised her own names – “bottle brush”, “cobweb” etc. She helped male seaweed enthusiasts in producing scholarly studies on the larger and smaller seaweeds, generously giving her knowledge and donating samples. One such enthusiast was the leading botanist William Henry Harvey with whom she corresponded and who eventually became a close friend. Her reputation grew and in 1817, the Swedish botanist Carl Agardh named a genus of red seaweed Griffithsia in her honour.

seaweed 1 mod 2
Griffithsia setacea from Griffiths’ books. © 2014 Royal Albert Memorial Museum & Art Gallery, Exeter City Council

Dried samples of seaweeds collected by Griffiths are held in several museums including Kew, Torquay and Exeter. Exeter’s Royal Albert Memorial Museum holds three slightly battered leather-bound volumes of her seaweeds which I recently had the privilege to see. Each sample is mounted on stiff white paper and annotated with the name and location in Griffiths’ neat handwriting. Many of the seaweeds still retain their bright colours despite being collected more than a century and a half ago.

seaweed 3 mod 2
Enteromorpha intestinalis. Collected in Torbay. The name suggests that early collectors saw the resemblance with the human intestine. From Griffiths’ books. © 2014 Royal Albert Memorial Museum & Art Gallery, Exeter City Council

Griffiths was often accompanied on her seaweed sorties by Mary Wyatt, formerly a servant in the Griffiths household but eventually the proprietor of a Torquay shop selling shells, polished madrepores and pressed plants. Harvey encouraged Mary Wyatt to sell books of pressed and named seaweeds to help identification. Supervised by Amelia, she produced the first two volumes of Algae Danmonienses (Seaweeds of Devon) by 1833. Each volume contained 50 species and cost 25 shillings or £1 if you subscribed to the series. The books sold well, being partly responsible for making seaweed collecting the must-do pastime at seaside resorts in early Victorian Britain. Followers of this seaweed craze were able to explore nature, improve their scientific knowledge and perhaps produce a memento of their seaside holiday.

book mod 2
The title page of one of Mary Wyatt’s books of seaweeds with a special Royal dedication. © 2014 Royal Albert Memorial Museum & Art Gallery, Exeter City Council.

Despite their extensive correspondence, Harvey and Amelia Griffiths did not meet until 1839 when he visited Torquay. At her urging, he wrote a hand-book of British Marine Algae later expanded to Phycologia Britannica, illustrating all known British Marine Algae. This great work required constant correspondence with Griffiths who despite being in her late 70s provided extensive knowledge of the plants in their natural state. Harvey held her in high regard and his hand-book contained the following dedication: “To Mrs Griffiths of Torquay, Devon, a lady whose long-continued researches have, more than those of any other observer in Britain, contributed to the present advanced state of marine botany….”

The more I investigated the story of Amelia Griffiths, the more I found similarities with Mary Anning. Both were systematic collectors, acquiring immense expertise in their fields and passing on samples to male scientists who furthered their own careers as a result. Both were strong women who pursued their interests whether or not these conformed to norms of society. Griffiths is known to have collected at Lyme Regis so perhaps she encountered Anning on the beach; it is an interesting thought. Anning is now better known, partly because her discoveries were much more significant for science and partly because of the well developed Mary Anning-industry in her home town.

Griffiths lived until nearly 90 maintaining her passion for seaweeds to the end. We must not forget that she began her systematic study of seaweeds in the early years of the 19th century, a time when women could not develop independent scientific careers. Despite this, she made a major contribution to marine botany and deserves to be more widely known.

I should like to thank Holly Morgenroth of the Royal Albert Memorial Museum, Exeter, who showed me Griffiths’ books of seaweeds and took the photographs.

This article first appeared in the August edition of the Dorset-based Marshwood Vale Magazine.

The picture at the top of this post is of Phycodrys rubens (formerly Delesseria sinuosa) in Griffiths’ books (copyright 2014 Royal Albert Memorial Museum and Art Gallery, Exeter City Council).

Watering cans, wild flowers and swifts – looking back at the Garden in July

At this time of year, only a small corner of the Leechwell Garden is visible from our kitchen window; the rest is obscured by the thick green wall erected by the trees. I can still see the three silver birches, also two of the benches and the lower part of the water course, popular with young children who like to paddle, especially during the hot weather we experienced this July.

July 14 5
red valerian in seed

There had been storms about and we did hear distant rumbles of thunder on more than one occasion but in Totnes this month there was little or no rain for more than three weeks. With the sultry temperatures everything began to look rather parched. Many of the flowers on the red valerian lining the paths near the Garden turned to seed; this felt earlier than previous years. The plants acquired a downy covering of numerous seeds equipped with small parachutes to aid windborne dispersal; no wonder it grows everywhere. I was also surprised to see ripe blackberries – in my mind blackberries are a feature of autumn.

July 14 6
blackberries

The swifts were an almost constant feature this month, shrieking over the Leechwell Garden morning and evening. Typically there were ten or so probing the air above the Garden looking for insects. On the 21st, the swift spectacular stepped up a notch and we counted more than 40 that evening. I had noticed flying ants in our garden so I wondered if the extra food had attracted the birds.

swifts over Totnes
swifts over the Garden

What is it about the swifts that captures our attention? We have to look, we have to try to count. They speed past our house, they manoeuvre, change course quickly and regroup like miniature spitfires in an old Battle of Britain film. But suddenly, on the 28th we noticed their absence. They had gone, making their way back to Africa for the winter. We miss them.

Down in the Leechwell Garden, one problem this July has been the lack of easily accessible water. There was no actual shortage; water flows freely through the garden but it has to be carried some distance as there are no taps. This was the first prolonged dry spell for some years and I sensed that plant growth was being affected. The Garden volunteers came up with the clever idea of providing watering cans for visitors so that, as they looked around, they could also water the plants. Some of the watering cans are child-sized so watering can become a game.

July 14 4
The pergola with clematis Perle d’Azur and lavender. The notice urges visitors to help with watering.

On the pergola, purple seemed to be the colour of the month. The later flowering clematis showed well and the path was lined with burgeoning banks of lavender.

July 14 1
wild flower bank

At the far end of the pergola there is a long wild flower bank. This has been carefully planted and showed a fine mixture of native plants in July – I saw proud yellow-flowered stems of mullein, floppy flowers of evening primrose, peering ox eye daisies, wild marjoram, musk mallow, knapweed, and, towering above them all, spindly purple-flowered verbena bonariensis (native to South America).

July 14 9
marjoram

It’s very good to see the wild flower bank as it’s one way to provide extra habitat for pollinators. I saw plenty of insects there in the morning but later they seemed to desert this part of the Garden for the attractions of other flowers. One of the competitors was a large patch of golden marjoram covered with white flowers; on sunny afternoons this positively pulsated with honeybees and hoverflies. The beautiful borage also continued to flower well and its starry blooms were well used by bumble bees.

July 14 3
borage
July 14 7
borage with bumblebee

 

I want to finish with more pictures of bees and flowers.

 

July 14 8
scabious with honeybee
July 14 2
I found this marigold with a bee turning in circles rubbing its abdomen around the flower centre. I think this might have been a leaf-cutter bee. I hope so.

The picture of the swifts was taken by Hazel Strange.

Disturbing the natural order – the case of neonicotinoid insecticides and farmland birds

Apus apus 01.jpg
A swift

 

One of my favourite nature writers is Mark Cocker who has the ability to capture a scene or an idea in a few hundred words. Despite his immense knowledge he never loses his sense of awe and with clever use of metaphor, his descriptions of nature leap in to life.

Here is Cocker writing about the interdependence of birds and insects:
“…… that vast efflorescence of insect life is integral to spring. After all, those swifts newly screaming over our village and the chorus that greets us at first light are little more than arthropods processed by avian digestive systems”.

Another favourite nature writer, Kenneth Allsop wrote, nearly fifty years ago, also about bird/insect interdependence. He took the example of a pair of dunnocks in the breeding season who consume more than 1000 insects each day just to maintain their chicks. Many of those insects, he pointed out, will be garden pests, “worth bearing in mind when irritated by bird damage to the green peas and apple buds”.

Despite this obvious dependence of bird life on insects, we still dump insecticides on to our gardens, parks and farmland with little real thought about the long term consequences.

One class of insecticide that has recently attracted scrutiny is the neonicotinoids. The neonicotinoids were introduced in the 1990s and are now very widely used to kill insect pests on a broad range of crops. In the UK, for example, a large proportion of the oil seed rape is grown using seed treated with neonicotinoids. One of the advantages of the neonicotinoids is their selectivity for invertebrates; in principle they have low toxicity towards vertebrates. There has, however, been increasing concern about effects of the neonicotinoids on non-target insects such as bees and the accumulation of the chemicals in soil and water courses with more general effects on invertebrates.

New worries about the neonicotinoids surfaced last week in a paper published in Nature by Hallmann and colleagues from Radboud University in the Netherlands. The Dutch group investigated whether these chemicals might be affecting the numbers of farmland birds indirectly by reducing the numbers of insects that these birds depend upon especially in the breeding season.

They took advantage of long-term monitoring schemes in the Netherlands to compare the average concentrations of one neonicotinoid (imidacloprid) in surface water between 2003 and 2009 with bird population trends over the same period. The comparison was made in different regions across the entire country and focussed on 15 species of common farmland bird that depend on invertebrates during the breeding season.

Yellow wagtail.jpg
Yellow wagtail (one of the farmland birds suffering a decline)

 

The comparison showed that in regions where concentrations of imidacloprid in surface water were higher, population growth rates of these insectivorous birds were lower or negative. Although superficially this suggests that imidacloprid has caused the decline in bird numbers, we first need to rule out alternative explanations for the apparent association.

Hallmann and colleagues consider two possible alternatives: first, the apparent effect of imidacloprid might actually reflect an ongoing decline in bird numbers that predated the introduction of this insecticide; second, the apparent imidacloprid effect might actually reflect changes in land use linked to agricultural intensification. They eliminate both of these alternatives.

Another possible confounding factor that the authors seem to have ignored is the effect of other pesticides. The Netherlands is a very intensively farmed country with more than 60% of land under cultivation. Many different chemicals are used to control pests including imidacloprid. It seems likely that areas with high imidacloprid use will be associated with high usage of other chemicals. Another Dutch group has analysed the large numbers of chemicals present in Dutch agriculture and shown that, in some regions, concentrations of imidacloprid are high enough to kill invertebrates but levels of other chemicals also exceed toxic doses. So, it could be imidacloprid that is leading to the decline in farmland birds or it could be a generally toxic environment. Either way, the conclusion is bleak and ought to make us reflect on the way we are producing our food.

Although the effects of imidacloprid described in this paper are open to interpretation, the evidence against the neonicotinoids continues to accumulate and some authors believe they are having widespread deleterious effects on the natural environment. George Monbiot, writing in the Guardian last week, called for a complete ban on the use of these insecticides.

The Center for Food Safety, a US-based non profit organisation, recently took a different approach to the neonicotinoid problem by asking how much the insecticides actually increase crop yield. Analysing 19 published studies, they found either inconsistent or no evidence that neonicotinoids increase yield. So, astonishingly, dumping neonicotinoids on farm crops has little discernable effect on productivity. Have we all been conned by the agrochemical companies?

 

[picture credits:  "Apus apus 01" by Paweł Kuźniar (Jojo_1, Jojo) - Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

"Yellow wagtail" by Andreas Trepte - Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons.]

A loo with a view

[This article appeared in the June edition of the Dorset-based  Marshwood Vale Magazine]

 

The hamlet of Monkton Wyld lies in a deep wooded valley in the far west of Dorset a few miles inland from Lyme Regis. The hamlet is dominated by the Victorian church and neo-gothic rectory, Monkton Wyld Court. For many years, the rectory was home to an alternative school and is now an education centre for sustainable living. It has also acquired a reputation for its award-winning compost toilets. In 2011, its compost loos made Permaculture Magazine’s top five and in 2013, Monkton Wyld Court’s sustainable privy was rated world number one in a competition organised by Transition Town Totnes.

MW 3

I wanted to find out what was so special about these compost toilets so, on an overcast but mild April day, I drove down the narrow road to Monkton Wyld. The setting is idyllic and the high verges were heavy with spring flowers: bluebells, wood anemones, stitchwort, primrose, red campion and wild garlic. At the old rectory, I was welcomed by Lynden Miles, who designed and built the compost loos. Lynden works and lives at the Court with his family and he took me to see the
conveniences.

MW 9
Monkton Wyld Court

Monkton Wyld Court does have conventional flushing toilets but there are also two compost loos, both situated in the grounds a short walk from the house and shielded by trees. Each toilet consists of an attractive wooden building, constructed from locally sourced larch, on a raised platform. Within each building is a toilet with a decorative wooden seat and a hand-washing sink which uses harvested and filtered rain water. There is also a supply of sawdust for visitors to add after they have used the toilet. Lighting is solar-powered and the windows afford lovely leafy views. Using the toilet is a pleasant experience and there was no smell that I could detect.

MW6
One of the compost toilets
MW5
The rather beautiful toilet
MW 2
A loo with a view

There is, however, the question of the waste. We are so used to “flush and forget” systems that we don’t normally give this a thought. In the award-winning compost toilet, waste accumulates in a chamber below, where it gradually decomposes under the influence of bacteria. The process is termed “aerobic” because the bacteria depend on oxygen so it is essential to maintain good ventilation. The sawdust is also an important part of the process: it keeps the moisture content of the decomposing waste low and provides carbon as a fuel for the bacteria to do their work. The bacteria also consume any pathogens in the human waste. Eventually the chamber will be “full” and at that point Lynden will move the toilet above a second chamber. He expects this will be in about two years. The waste in the first chamber will then be left for a further two years before it can be recycled as fertiliser for fruit trees; it will never be used directly on edible crops.

MW4
Lynden Miles

I asked Lynden why he had developed these novel toilets. He told me that he had experienced awful compost toilets elsewhere and thought he could do better. Compost toilets also fit well with the ethos of sustainable living at Monkton Wyld Court. Conventional “flush and forget” toilets consume vast amounts of water which disappear in to the sewers along with the human waste. This water has been carefully purified to drinking standard only to be flushed away using up to a third of our domestic water supply. The human waste is only partly recycled and important nutrients are lost. By comparison, Lynden’s compost toilets consume a little rainwater and potentially recycle all the human waste.

Although Lynden’s compost toilets may seem very innovative, the idea is by no means a new one and a different kind of compost toilet was invented a century and a half ago, also in Dorset, by the Rev Henry Moule, vicar of Fordington near Dorchester. At that time, sewage disposal was very primitive and Moule became convinced that poor disposal was a source of much disease. He experimented by mixing his own excreta with dry earth and was surprised that within 3-4 weeks the mixture was odourless having fully broken down. With the help of a local farmer, he showed that earth reused five times in this way was an excellent fertiliser for crops. Moule designed and patented his “earth closet” in 1860. This had a handle that, when turned, delivered a measured amount of earth on to the human excrement. For a time the earth closet was very popular and competed with the water closet as a sanitary device. Indeed, Queen Victoria had an earth closet installed at Windsor Castle. Earth closets were adopted in some schools in the UK and in gaols, government buildings and mental hospitals in Australia and India.

As we know, “earth closets” did not persist in the UK and this may have had something to do with the difficulty of ensuring that the waste was properly disposed of by individual users. Because it is so important to deal effectively with the waste problem, especially in big towns, the “flush and forget” system linked to sewerage works has been adopted. This may also have had something to do with our attitude to human excrement.

Although the earth closet now appears a historical curiosity, with increased awareness of the need to conserve water there has been an upsurge of interest in compost toilets. They are particularly useful where mains sewerage is not available, for example at allotments and at music festivals. They are popular at roadside locations in rural Scandinavia and in national parks in the US. These modern designs, including of course Lynden’s world number one, are not exactly the same as Moule’s but they are certainly in the same spirit.

MW 1
A Monkton Wyld bee pollinating a fruit tree

Flowering Dogwood, Bachelor’s Buttons and a living fossil – the Garden in June

Many mornings this month when I have looked out of the kitchen window, the Leechwell Garden has been bathed in a warm, clear light that I hadn’t noticed previously this year. Perhaps it’s the early sunrise, perhaps it’s the dry weather, and the lack of rain and mist, that has persisted throughout much of the month.

As well as being dry, the weather has been quite warm at times, re-creating that summery feeling expressed so well by Edward Thomas in his poem “Adlestrop”, written 100 years ago this June after his train stopped unwontedly at the station.

Yes. I remember Adlestrop -
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop — only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

But let me drag you away from the Cotswolds to look at some of the highlights of the month in the Leechwell Garden here in Devon.

June 14 6
The pergola with the wild flower bank on the left

On the pergola, the climbing roses put on a wonderful show as if they were saluting the warm weather. For a short time, they cloaked the natural wood structure with a luxuriant overcoat of pink and white petals.

June 14 5
Clary Sage with immature flowers

In the herb garden, large fleshy leaves and flower spikes of clary sage rose from the ground. The closed buds were very pale and reminded me of ghostly toothwort. They opened to a mass of very pale lilac flowers. The plant was called “clear eye” by Culpeper in his 17th century herbal and its sticky seeds were recommended for removing foreign objects from the eye. Nowadays, clary sage is grown commercially for its essential oil.

June 14 2
The patch of feverfew (behind and to the left are some mature flowers of clary sage)

Nearby is a large patch of feverfew, impressive for its many small yellow and white daisy-like flowers, also called “bachelor’s buttons.” The flowers grow so densely that they seem to coalesce to a bright yellow and white mosaic which glows when the sun shines.

I like Culpeper’s dedication for feverfew in his herbal: “Venus has commended this herb to succour her sisters” – in the past it was indeed used to treat gynaecological problems. Nowadays, feverfew is commonly used as a herbal remedy for migraine headaches, although a systematic review of clinical trials of feverfew failed to show any effect over placebo.

June 14 3
Flowering dogwood

Elsewhere in the Garden I found two interesting trees. One is a Flowering Dogwood (probably Cornus kousa), notable for its unassuming, small flowers each surrounded by four large, white bracts performing the function of petals. The bracts take on a pink tinge as they mature.

June 14 7
Ginkgo biloba

The other was a Ginkgo Biloba, the world’s oldest tree. The Ginkgo has unique leaves, fan shaped with veins radiating in to the leaf blade which sometimes splits. It is referred to as a living fossil as the modern species has been found to be related to fossils dating back 270 million years.

Extracts of Ginkgo Biloba have been long used in traditional Chinese medicine to treat a range of disorders. There has been great interest in the western world in the use of Ginkgo extracts to improve memory and prevent Alzheimer’s disease but controlled clinical trials do not support this idea.

I first heard of the Ginkgo tree through a painting, not via a garden. In the mid 1980s, the artist Tom Phillips had been commissioned by the National Portrait Gallery to paint a portrait of the author and philosopher, Iris Murdoch. I used to be a fan of the writer and I remember going to see the painting; I was surprised to find that it also contained a branch of a tree. Apparently, the artist wanted to include “a bit of nature” in the picture and after consultation with Murdoch they agreed on Ginkgo. Here is a link to the story and the picture.

The bees have been busy whenever the weather has allowed and I have included a couple of pictures.

June 14 4
Flowering thyme with a bumblebee
June 14 1
Brambles with a honeybee
June 14 8
Red Valerian growing from walls near the Leechwell Garden. Three flower colours are seen: the predominant pink, also red and white

The enclosed narrow paths leading to the Garden were striking earlier in the month, bathed in the mostly pink flowers and fleshy green leaves of red valerian growing from the walls. This plant, which was introduced from the Mediterranean many years ago, is now naturalised and grows widely in the South West wherever it can – in walls, on waste ground, in gardens. It was recently also featured on the Words and Herbs blog. Red Valerian (Centranthus ruber) is very much a feature of the urban landscape of this part of Devon and contributes to a southern European feel, at least until it rains heavily. By the end of the month, much of the red valerian near the Leechwell Garden had lost its petals contributing to the slightly dried-out look that has replaced the lush greenness of gardens and hedgerows just a month ago.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 81 other followers

%d bloggers like this: