Tag Archives: myrtle

Back to the town centre, at last – Lockdown Nature Walks 10

Many of the lockdown restrictions imposed across the UK to reduce the spread of COVID-19 have now been removed or relaxed but life still feels very different from what we were once used to.  It does, though, seem inappropriate to continue referring to Lockdown Nature Walks and this will be my last one with that name.  So, for my tenth walk I want to come back to where I started back in March by walking round some of the town centre gardens and car parks looking at what is out and about in late August/early September.  

Let’s start at the Leechwell Garden, a peaceful, green oasis in the centre of Totnes open to all.  There is always plenty to see here and it changes week by week.  Many flowers grow and I pop in regularly to look at the insects that have been attracted.   During my lockdown visits to the Garden, I have talked to many people and I came to realise what an important lifeline the Garden has been for those without green spaces of their own or for people wanting a physically distanced conversation.  The Garden has also echoed with children’s laughter and the sandpit and play area have been a much-needed diversion for families.

Here are a few highlights from my recent visits:

This drone fly (Eristalis) is feeding from the fragrant white flowers of myrtle with their yellow-tipped stamens

Three honeybees (Apis mellifera) feeding from globe thistle (Echinops)

Late summer is the time that these male common furrow bees (Lasioglossum calceatum) appear and they are often to be seen on the marjoram

A green shieldbug (Palomena prasina) on rudbeckia

It’s a short walk from the Leechwell Garden to the Nursery Car Park, one of the town centre car parks, surrounded by tall stone walls, grassy banks and soil borders.   In April and May, one of the soil borders was unexpectedly enlivened by colourful wildflowers that commandeered its scruffy surface.  Insects were attracted and in Lockdown Nature Walk 5, I described how I found beautiful orange-tip butterflies here.  As spring gave way to summer, the first flush of flowers was replaced by large clumps of spear thistle occupying the border with their architectural presence as if the triffids had taken over.  These thistles proved very popular with bees:

A leafcutter bee (probably a patchwork leafcutter bee (Megachile centuncularis)) feeding on the spear thistle and gathering pollen beneath her abdomen

Orange-vented mining bee (Osmia leaiana) feeding from spear thistle, her orange/red pollen brush is visible beneath her abdomen

In mid-August, the local council decided to mend the fence along the back of this border and in the process cut all the flowers and trees down to ground level.  This did seem rather drastic but most of the plants had finished flowering for the year so perhaps the damage was mostly cosmetic.  I do, though, wonder what happened to the chrysalises of the orange-tip butterflies?

The other borders were unaffected by this scorched earth policy and a large buddleia in one corner is currently covered in its purple plume-shaped flowers that perfume the air with their distinctive but slightly sickly fragrance.   In another corner, brambles still retain a few late flowers. Both are currently attracting butterflies.

Small tortoiseshell butterfly (Aglais urticae) on buddleia, one of three on the bush together.

Holly blue butterfly (Celastrina argiolus) on bramble

Finally, I want to go to the Heathway Car Park, also close to the Leechwell Garden.  Along one side of the parking area there is an old stone wall covered in dark green-leaved ivy and now is the time of year that I begin to peer at stands of this climber.  It’s the developing flower heads that interest me and they currently show considerable variation: some still resemble tiny, pale green golf balls composed of a tight cluster of small spheres.  In others, slightly more mature, the individual spheres are held on extended stalks like a clutch of ice cream cones. Then on August 23rd, in the Heathway Car Park I found that some of these ice cream cones were showing yellow-tipped stamens, the ivy had flowered.  Insects come immediately to take advantage of this new canteen of nectar and pollen and a stand of ivy in full bloom and covered with insects can be an awe-inspiring sight.   So far, I have only seen wasps and hoverflies on the flowers but I hope to see some ivy bees, the last of the solitary bees to emerge each year and a sure sign of the changing season.

Wasp (Common or German) and hornet hoverfly (Volucella zonaria) on flowering ivy

The picture at the head of this post shows a small white butterfly (Pieris rapae) on globe thistle (Echinops) in the Leechwell Garden

Birches, shaggy ink caps and a wagtail: the October garden

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.

(From Robert Frost’s poem October)

 

Norway Maple in Autumn
The Norway Maple with its orange crown

 

The beginning of October brought tangible change with alternating periods of heavy rain and cheerful sunshine. I suppose the weather had to shift but I’d got used to the warm and dry. More rain followed and when the remnants of hurricane Gonzalo passed through I saw airborne leaves, gutter-filling leaves and now rotting leaves. It still felt unseasonably mild but despite this, nature moves forward, the flowers have mostly gone and, from my kitchen window, I watched the gradual change in colour as each tree moved ahead but at its own pace. One belligerent punk of a tree (a Norway Maple) tried hard to shock by putting on a bright crown of orange foliage.

Mullein in October
The continuing new growth on the mullein

 

Honeybee on Mullein
A honeybee enjoying the mullein flowers

 

Down in the Leechwell Garden I continued to wonder at the tenacity of a mullein which, despite the season, was now a tangled mass of new flowering stems. The fresh, lemon-yellow flowers proved popular with the honeybees now that other forage is becoming scarce.

Mrytle 1
Myrtle: flowers, fruits and leaves

I also discovered a largish evergreen shrub, a myrtle, by one of the old stone walls. It was the brilliant white flowers that first caught my attention, their long yellow-tipped stamens bursting from the petals like a bonfire-night rocket lighting up the sky. The myrtle’s cloak of small, glossy, dark green leaves was complemented by many immature fruits in a variety of colours from pink to green to black. Crushed myrtle leaves emit a eucalyptus-like smell and the berries and leaves are widely used in Mediterranean and Middle Eastern cooking.

Figs
A fig tree clothes a large part of the ancient stone wall

 

Perhaps because of the dearth of flowers, I have spent some time this month looking at the grove of young trees planted near the three mature silver birches. These are a mixture of willows and birches and their height allowed me to look closely at their leaves and fruits. The young birches divide in to two groups, one still covered with large ovate green leaves, the other rapidly losing their smaller, yellowing, diamond-shaped leaves.

Himalayan Birches 1
Four himalayan birches (willows behind)

 

Himalayan Birch bark
Himalyan birch bark with apricot coloured lenticels

 

Himalayan Birch bark peeling
Peeling bark on a himalayan birch

The green-leafed birches impress for another reason – their slender, smooth trunks with luminous white bark, characteristic of the Himalayan Birch. On a dull day, the pale, narrow trunks seem to shimmer like ghosts in the gloom. On the upper parts of these trees the bark is peeling away like old wallpaper on a damp wall and, in the past, this white paper-like bark was used for writing Sanskrit scriptures and texts.

Himalayan Birches
Brownish-red markings on one himalayan birch

One of this group of birches also has crazed patterns of dark, brownish red superimposed on the white bark. I didn’t know that Himalayan Birches showed this kind of patterning and it makes me slightly uneasy about my identification.

Male catkins on Himalayan Birch
Male catkins on himalayan birch

 

Himalyan Birch female fruit and leaf
Seed head on himalayan birch

Around the branches, signs of reproduction and renewal abound. A few chunky male catkins are already present showing their prominent helical structure overpainted in washes of brown and green. In the spring, these catkins will become the familiar pendulous structures brimming with yellow pollen waiting to fertilise the female flowers as they emerge with the new leaves. But the tree hasn’t finished with this year’s cycle and some mature female seed heads are still waiting to discharge their seeds.

Young silver birch
Young silver birch showing reddish pink bark and many mature seed heads

The second group of young birches share many of the features of the three mature silver birches, particularly the foliage. Confusingly, the bark shows varying shades of pink, red and brown but my tree identification book tells me this is typical for young silver birches. New leaf buds are still very small as are the male catkins but this year’s mature female seed heads are very prominent. They fall apart easily if touched, releasing hundreds of seeds.

Male and female fruits on Silver Birch
Seed heads and new male catkins on silver birch

You may already know this, but the birch tree is a Celtic symbol of growth, renewal, stability etc and in Finnish sauna culture, participants gently beat themselves with leafy fragrant boughs of silver birch!

Shaggy Ink Caps
Shaggy Ink Caps

This month’s mild, damp weather has been good for fungi. On the 22nd I came across three fine upstanding shaggy ink caps (Caprinus comatus), also known as Lawyer’s Wig fungi because the bell-shaped cap develops flaking scales that protrude. These ink caps are edible although, I am told, they lack a very distinctive flavour. If you intend to eat them, pick and consume them young as they deteriorate rapidly. They should not be confused with the egg-shaped common ink cap which is poisonous in combination with alcohol.

Grey Wagtail
Grey Wagtail (from a distance)

 

Writing this diary takes me fairly regularly to the Leechwell Garden. On my visits, there has always been something to look at in the Garden, something to remark on, with one exception: birds. Why do I see so few birds, I don’t have an answer. So, it was a pleasant surprise to encounter an interesting bird this month as I walked away from the Garden towards the Leechwell. I saw the bird ahead of me as its flight traced an arc from the water to the wall above. When it reached the relative safety of the wall, it bounced about before settling; its habitual tail flicks and sleek shape told me immediately that this was a wagtail. I could see flashes of lemon yellow so this was most likely the resident, water-loving grey wagtail. It was there again a few days later. So, there are some birds about!

Autumn sculptures
Some “autumn sculptures” I found in the Garden one day.