Full Ponds, Alder Carr and Fungi
Tuesday 31/10/23
I'm back to Tuesday visiting and happen to pass Anne Yarrow (one of the previous owners) leading an adult group intent on learning about the strangeness of fungi which appear in woodlands at this time of year. I too will scout around for any sign of these intriguing organisms – neither a member of the animal nor the plant kingdoms.
I waste no time shooting off to look at the new ponds after all this recent rain. I've had a sneak preview thanks to Kate who video-called me on Sunday during a walk she was taking down by the new ponds. She was very excited and showed me the general view of the ponds, which was most encouraging. But seeing is believing.
At the top of Hemlock Valley I pause and decide to look at the leaky dams built across the section of Wilderness Stream above it. I am particularly impressed by the amount of water trapped behind them and build up a little more mud/clay/soil in the hope of it helping the pond become more permanent.
I next check the state of the run-offs cleared just a couple of weeks ago, deciding to clear one which has already amassed significant sediment from path wash. I am also pleased to discover a full pond has developed behind the leaky dam featured in last weeks blog (the one with 3 photos for comparison 2020/1/3).
But its the new ponds further downstream which I am most wanting to check. Approaching from Steep Hill I pick my way along where the proposed access path will turn off and give a great view of this new watery feature in the lower wood. I am not disappointed. How is it that a few inches of water can so transform an otherwise dull landscape?
I can't help but stare into the crystal clear waters of the upper pond looking for signs of life. Stand long enough staring into freshwater and something will happen. First I notice that water starwort plants have changed from their prostrate versions crawling across dried mud into floating vertical strands of green, like freshwater kelp beds.
A single gyrating black oval on the new pond surface announces how quickly whirligig beetles can find a new water body to investigate. I'm more used to seeing them en-masse dashing about like bumping cars at a fairground, but somehow avoiding any collision with the other revellers. A whirligig alone is perhaps a little sad but I'm sure the rest of the gang will be along soon.
The next arrival completely takes me by surprise since it is an airborne insect – a dragonfly. I've seen several species of dragonfly and damselfly over the summer months, but not this one before – which I take to be a female black darter. I know it is female because it is in the process of flicking eggs into the water and appears pale brown in colour. I try to get close enough to pick out detail but the lady is not for viewing and she shoots off to the next pond.
Most insects seem to stop egg-laying by now, well thankfully that's the case with the cabbage white butterflies on my broccoli, but not it seems the dragonflies. Thinking about it, why should they? If the air is warm enough for flight, then the water of a pond which their young spend all their lives in is certain to be warm enough too. Even a frozen pond is probably going to have water at its bottom which is above freezing and safe to reside in over the winter months.
A second black beetle pops up to the surface for air before returning to the safety of the deep – it is a diving beetle.
I inspect the bank for leaks, which quickly reveal themselves as a steady trickle of water finds its way into the middle pond. I should have worked on this over the summer, but I'm hopeful it will not be a problem. For now more water is entering from the Wilderness Stream than is leaving by this route.
A minor repair job on the log dam built between the middle and lower pond is about all I need to bother with at present, so I turn my attention downstream to the alder carr woodland that is also fed by the Wilderness Stream. Last year I tried to force the stream channel to braid (like on a river delta as it enters the sea), with some success. The impromptu leaky dams I put in are still in place, but a little repairing and channel scraping with my trusty little spade ensures that as much of the woodland is under water as possible. It might be worth building a small embankment across the bottom of the wood at some stage to water-log it completely. This may discourage bramble growth in favour of wetland plants such as marsh marigold, yellow flag and bog bean.
At Streamside Camp I am impressed by the size of the pond which has developed behind the largest of the leaky dams. Last year this kept its water into the early summer, long enough for frogs to breed, but the engineer in me longs for permanent ponds. I chase this idea away, happy in the knowledge that the 106 leaky dams built over the last 3 years have dramatically increased the amount of water in Wilderness Wood. Time to wait and see how nature responds to this new opportunity.
The return trip up the valley calls for further fungi hunting on my part.
Sulphur tuft is one of the commonest fungi in the wood but is poisonous to eat.
False death cap - it may be false but its similarity to its deadly cousin makes it a dangerous fungus to eat.
This tiny mystery fungus was found at Ant Wood and was later revealed to be Cantherellus infundibulum.
On returning to the barn I find fungus expert Anne Yarrow is eating lunch and seize my opportunity to show her my photograph of the mystery fungus – she declares it to be Cantherellus infundibulum, a close relative of the highly prized chanterelle commonly found at French market stalls. I can't find any reference to its cullinary properties on-line, but since this one is only about 1 cm tall you would be pushed to get anything edible out of it anyway!
My fungal foraying has had limited success, whilst Anne has managed to find a cornucopia of mycological mystery which she has put on display for visitors to the woods to admire. Can you identify any of these (answers below).
David Horne - www.leggingroundbritain.com