Celebrating the Winter Solstice at Wilderness Wood
It is the shortest day of the year and a mere 4 days short of Christmas so I come looking for an appropriate story in the wood. Not the one I accidentally stumble across at the new workshop, the home team rehearsing for tonight's performance, but something a little more directly nature related.
One thing is certain, this should be one of the more difficult days to find Mother Nature actively going about her business.
The Holly is full of berries this year, which is something of a blessing for birds such as blackbird and thrush which rely heavily on what she can bring to the table.
And no shortage of ivy on the trees thanks to Jake's recognition that ivy growth is to be encouraged rather than discouraged.
It's entwining stems climb up into the crowns of mature trees providing suitable shelter for bats and their insect prey. Ivy's late blooming flowers provide a last supper of nectar and pollen for a myriad of bee species. This is essential for our native species of bumble and honeyed varieties of apifauna to store up enough reserves to see them through to the arrival of spring flowers.
Further, this is not at the cost of healthy host trees, which contrary to some misinformed individuals are not parasitised by the ivy (Ivy is not a parasite, any more than clematis, honeysuckle or roses – all are climbers using the host tree to give them a leg-up towards the canopy where they can get more sunlight). Too many tree surgeons and other quasi-experts cut the ivy stems at the base, depriving wildlife of their precious food and shelter.
You'll be aware of at least one world religion which celebrates new life struggling to find food and shelter at this time of year.
It is not difficult to stumble across moles, or more precisely mole hills, in the winter. A fresh one signals to me that the recent heavy rains have caused a mole run to collapse, especially in open grassland where the supporting roots of tree are largely absent. Hence the disturbance of your preciously manicured lawn at this time of year by the feverish activity of its subterranean neighbour. Winter is unlikely to lead to our mole struggling to find food, not with all the decaying autumnal leaves providing sustenance for the earthworms he preys on.
Then again, the perennial threat of insecticides and chemical fertilisers applied to farm land will a. reduce the need for organic material to be applied, b. reduce the number of soil invertebrates and c. threaten the livelihood of the mole.
And so I perhaps inevitably end up at the most obvious location at Wilderness Wood to find a story at this time of year - the Christmas Tree Field.
Most of the trees selected by clients have been felled, but not before many of their buyers laid claim to theirs by decorating it in festive tinsel and wassailing balls - a lovely Wilderness Wood tradition.
The lifecycle of your typical Christmas tree is relatively short since it will attain a height of 10 feet in less than as many years, when it will be too tall for all but the highest of ceilings in your mansion 'mi lord'. This leaves lots of space for sun loving plants to flourish.
You may recall that we were here earlier in the year looking at the rich variety of summer flowering plants growing between the young trees. They are still here, but are harder to spot.
I stumble across an old chestnut coppice stool, dead for at least 30 years but still supporting lichens, mosses, sheep sorrel, foxglove, hawks-beard and speedwell.
Not all is about new birth and rebirth at Christmas Time. the remains of a recently deceased wood pigeon suggests that one of the local foxes has got it's Christmas bird in early. That should keep her going in cold cuts well into Boxing Day.
As I scout around I am able to add wood sage, bramble, Perfoliate St John's Wort and hard fern to my plant list.
At the bottom of the Christmas Tree Field Jake has carried out the coppicing we planned, to remove the shading from oversized chestnut poles. The vital income provided by the Christmas Trees requires this. These were planted less than 9 years ago, each being in excess of 7 feet tall and fetching top dollar next December. As you'll be aware from my post dated 26th September 2023, the coppiced chestnuts will grow back over the next 10 or 15 years.
Jake and his merry band of conservation volunteers also got stuck into a sizeable Rhododendron shrub, although he will need to return to finish the job in the next few months.
The Winter Solstice festivities commence in 30 minutes, so I just have time to check on the ponds and leaky dams in the lower wood. I'm happy to report that other than some minor disturbance of leaky dams, all looks in a good state.
Merry Winter Solstice, Christmas and New Year.
David Horne