Now this time of year brings our
site of Stockbridge Down, into its own.
On these warm, clear sunny days it is the Jewel in our Crown, with stunning
views across Hampshire and Wiltshire, wildflowers smothering the slopes and
butterflies fluttering thick and fast around your feet, your heads, everywhere
you look.
If you walk the slopes and the
glades you will find large areas of shorter turf in which wild flowers have
exploded, with Wild Thyme, Birds Foot Trefoil, Harebells, Salad Burnets,
Eyebright, Rock Rose, Vetches, Marjoram, Centaury, Ground Ivy, Bugle, Wild
Strawberry, Speedwells and many more all creating the annual technicoloured
cloak of Stockbridge Down. I have
watched the areas I had cleared of scrub, two winters ago, blossom and bloom
with a new layer of ground flora, the seed bank of which lay hidden under the
mossy turf and degenerate canopy of the scrub that was there before, just
waiting the chance to be brought out into the light.
So many colours...Wild Thyme |
...Rock Rose (a personal favourite)... |
...and Eyebright; a gorgeous little flower that is used in eye washes and eye drops. |
With this incredible array of
flora comes, of course, the butterfly spectacle. I realise I mention Stockbridge butterflies
in most of the summer months but that is because they really are just too
fantastic not to. My weekly butterfly
surveys have shown the numbers to be soaring up as we hit into midsummer, from
64 one week, to over a hundred the next, to 264 this week and still
climbing. The Marbled Whites are
covering the longer grasses and thistles in their hundreds, closely followed by
the Dark Green Fritillaries and the Skippers in all their orangey buzzing
glory. And this very week has bought out
the first of the Gatekeepers and the onset of the Chalkhill Blues. The Chalkhill blue butterflies will peak
around late July into early August and are just phenomenal – thousands of
silvery blue butterflies floating like vapour across the slopes and, quite
often, on dog turds from which they like to take the salt.
I am giving a guided walk of
Stockbridge Down on the 18th of July, so if you want to come and see
these wonders for yourself and hear about the history, archaeology, habitat and
management of the Down then ring Mottisfont Abbey and book yourself a
place. If you don’t want to come on the
walk, then go and visit the Down anyway I urge you- you might even be lucky
enough to hear the elusive Turtle Dove as I did, in the scrub on the lower
slopes recently. It has a beautiful deep
‘purring’ coo, much deeper than a pigeon and much rarer. Stockbridge Down is a stronghold for these
summer visitors and as I didn’t get to hear one last year (although others did)
I was very chuffed to hear one this summer.
The sheep flock are doing well on
the Down and are looking superbly sleek and bright now that they have finished
shedding their ratty, dreadlocked, winter coats. This breed shears themselves (thank god) and I
must say they do a far neater job than I ever could. They have plumped up with the summer flush of
grass growth and are looking very healthy.
The two new lambs that we bought back in May have been added to the main
flock and after some initial nose touching and bottom sniffing of the newbies,
they all happily settled down together without any apparent need to settle the hierarchy. The lone male was a bit sheepish at first
(snigger) and let his sister take the lead which was unusual for him as he is
normally very bolshie and first in line, but as Ryan said – ‘he’s a bloke that
has just been chucked in a room with 28 women; of course he looks terrified!’. Fair point.
Now as I have mentioned before that
we have a population of ageing Juniper trees, those Giant Pandas’ of the plant
world. I have written before about their
struggle to survive and reproduce as a species (see Winter Hymnal blog post),
which is due to a number of factors such as being dioecious, lack of seed
viability, seed vulnerability to predation by small mammals and mites, their
need for completely bare soil on which to germinate as even grass will shade
out and kill any emergent seedlings and so on.
All in all, a rather difficult species to try and preserve but one
which, as one of only three conifers native to Britain (the other two being
Scots Pine and Yew), it is important to do so.
There is also a whole host of life that relies on Juniper alone for
survival, such as Juniper Shield Bug, Juniper Carpet Moth and of course – our gin
and tonics.
We have spent two winters
clearing the scrub from around the mature Juniper trees in order to save them
from being shaded out (detailed in past blog posts). I have spent the following summers spraying
the scrub regrowth to kill it off and prevent it from returning, a job which I did
again last week in the sweaty heat of spraying overalls and welly boots. This is helping to preserve the mature
Juniper trees which are welcoming the chance to be free of shading scrub. However what we really also need is for the
Juniper to regenerate which is very difficult to get it to do in the wild down
in the South. Whether it’s the lack of suitably
viable trees and gene pools, attacks of mites and parasites or the conditions of the surrounding site, it has
always been an ongoing project for agencies like Plantlife (see their ‘Juniper;
Breaking New Ground’ online article for a good scope on the challenges of
preserving this species) and landowners of any Juniper sites.
One of our countryside volunteers Tony took a
special interest in the Juniper, having spent many a day helping clear the
scrub from round it (which seemed to put most people off it, but Tony was
hooked!) and together we visited another nearby National Trust site called
Pepperbox Hill, where they have similar issues with scrub and Juniper, and
where they have tried a number of seed cage designs. Tony took one of these designs, created by
Plantlife and made ten sturdy seed cages.
The aim of these cages is for them to be placed beneath a berry bearing
female Juniper with bare soil left within.
The area around it may grow up with grasses or other plants, but the
soil within the cage would be kept bare and clear of weeds. This would give the potential for any berry
that fell into this soil from the tree above, to be able to germinate
successfully in the soil (uneaten by rodents as they would not get into the
cage) and begin to grow (without being shaded and out-competed by grasses or
weeds as we would keep the soil clear of them). We could also potentially sow
seeds into them from trees on the site, to try and help kick start the process.
We installed these cages across the site a few months back with the aim to weed
them throughout the summer and hope that in a couple of years’ time, they would
bear fruit.
In place beneath a berry filled female |
Tony and I came to weed them this
week, for the first time since their installation. Some had barely any grass or weeds at all;
others were deeply surrounded by bramble which we hacked back. We worked our way round them, expecting only
to be weeding and clearing when suddenly…..there, poking up out the ground just
below my weed clearing fingers…there grew a baby Juniper. I choked slightly, uttered an expletive and
pointed it to Tony. We looked and saw
another one…and then a third! Three!
Three baby ‘panda’s’ in one seed cage, a first for the site and a rare occurrence
in Hampshire – natural Juniper regeneration!
These little blue green, spikey seedlings stood only about an inch high,
all too fragile and vulnerable but there – against all the odds and to my
complete astonishment as I honestly hadn’t thought we would get any seedlings
in the cages within the first few months - these babies take years to ripen and germinate, and yet
here they were, the first of their kind to be born onto the site (that we know of)
in many, many years, possibly since the original, mature trees themselves.
We whooped and hollered and I ran
full pelt back to the truck to get my camera to record the evidence. We cleared the few weeds from the cage – oh so
carefully, so as not to disturb the children – and just stared and gawped for a
while more at these little things which I hadn’t imagined we would succeed in
getting after so short a time. Then we
carefully replaced the lid, tucked them in, and crept away.
We shall weed the cages again
towards the end of summer and see what the others bring us. I now feel the burden of parenthood, with
three rare youngsters in my charge and the fear that some calamity may befall
them before they reach adulthood. There will be a long way to go but it has
shown us that we have viable seed trees and thus the potential to save our Juniper
population here – may these three be the first of many.
Hope for the future - viva la Juniper! |