Back in the bed – the reed bed of course

Despite a life-long passion for the natural world, my understanding of ecology is, reasonably enough I’d say, limited. Ecological systems are the latest episodes of a story that’s been unfolding for several billion years, and infinitely more complicated than any of us are capable of fully understanding; messing with them is a perilous business. There’s a vitally important gathering of many of the world’s nations happening right now, as well as rather a lot of football matches elsewhere. COP15 isn’t attracting anything like as much media attention as the World Cup, or even the spate of hand-wringing over how beastly members of the Royal Family are to each other, but resolving the Biodiversity Crisis is far more important – even if you love football, or celebrity gossip. The silence on mainstream media is deafening: perhaps part of the problem is also the word, which some might find intimidatingly scientific. Call it the Nature Crisis and perhaps people might take more notice, but then again, perhaps some would think it only affects twitchers and tree-huggers, to use the lazy language of newspaper sub-editors. Life Crisis just about covers it however, for every one of us and all our co-tenants on this fabulous planet.

On a lighter note, the lapwings have been back on Whitegates Road – this time enjoying what food was available on a newly-ploughed field. Almost every time I go out at the moment I am likely to see at least one red kite, but the ravens have proved more elusive for me, although I am told they are still about, as were the whooper swans the last time I looked a couple of days ago.

Today saw our last working party before the traditional economic boost known as Christmas. It’s fair to say it was a chilly one, but that didn’t deter 22 volunteers, who were rewarded by mince pies at the break, courtesy of Kevin and Linda. Our attention has now switched to the main reedbed – half of the area between the bench and the Beck. I suspect I wasn’t the only one who thought this bed was less preferable to the one at home, especially since the day before had been so very cold and foggy.

This spot gets very boggy underfoot, and combined with the heavy frost cold fingers and toes were the order of the day. Here are the heaps of reed frozen solid waiting to be moved.

It was very pretty though:

People wielding pitchforks need the relevant tools; here they are, all ready for the volunteers!

Here’s a drag sheet just after it has been turned over to empty it. Once emptied, the sheet needs to be returned to the scene for the pitchforkers to refill it, often whistling a merry tune. A Frequently Asked Question from the person who does the returning is, “Where do you want this sheet?” After this first tipping out, I asked it. Sheila’s reply was telling: “Back in the container”.

Soon we were hard at work in the morning sun.

But the intense cold soon wore off with exercise in the sunshine, and the whole thing became as enjoyable as it usually does, and excess garments were soon shed. Or was this our simple attempt at Christmas decorations?

That sunshine also warmed up the frost riming the overhanging branches at the dumping area, and warmed up frost tends to turn into cold water pretending to be rain. Team Leader Julie complained of being in amongst a lot of drips – which was fair, if deflating for anyone self-identifying as a drip.

Where we were working, and in particular dumping, was quite a tight area, with a lot of material to deal with (there had already been seven volunteer hours worked earlier in the week cutting a good supply of reeds in advance of the main session).

The constricted nature of the dumping site, combined with the bulky nature of the cut reeds, posed plenty of challenges for the crack winching team, meaning frequent changes of position and some different ways of tipping the sheets over – but it all went well. The heaps of dumped reeds grew quickly, and making best use of the limited space was important. Your dim correspondent was puzzled to hear talk of betting on someone apparently about to take part in a race: here, there and everywhere I heard about the need to “back Phil”. We don’t have a Phil in our group, which was also puzzling, until it was gently explained that this was about the need to back fill into the gaps behind recently dumped reeds. Doh!

That tight space was due in part to the trees which are encroaching into the reedbed. These need removing, and luckily we had the tools and the people for that.

Half way through the allotted two hours of the session, the half-time break arrived, as on time as a returning NASA space flight. As noted above (way above), this session being near the festive season, we had mince pies as well as chocolate biscuits. Someone might have been heard to say “My cup runneth over!” That’s because one did, literally, but fortunately no scalding injuries transpired.

Eventually the last load of the day was ready to shift; was this how the ancient Egyptians moved their pyramids?

At the end, the area looks like this, although we can’t guarantee picturesque rising mist every time you visit!

Earlier in the week, a group of five dedicated volunteers also put in a shift at The Pit, mowing the grass and tidying the verge for the winter. Before they started, the verge looked like this…

… and after their attentions, it looks like this:

Here is the Team Leaders’ message of thanks:

Thank you all for coming to this last working party of 2022. It was a very cold start but as usual clothes were quickly shed. You all did a fantastic job in very cold and icy conditions. I hope you all have enjoyed the contributions you have made this year as they have certainly made a difference to the Commons. An extra thanks goes to Linda and Kevin for today's mince pies and also to the crack team that tidied up the pit last week.

You will all be delighted to know that you now get three weeks off due to Christmas and New Year  so we will welcome you all in 2023 on the 8th of January.

May we take this opportunity to wish you all a very Happy Christmas and a peaceful New Year.

Julie, Kevin, John and Sue. Margaret

Two hedges and a flock of pie-wipes

The last few days of wandering along our surrounding footpaths and quiet lanes have been pleasingly productive of birds. Some 750 Pink-footed geese flew over me one late afternoon; two ravens were duelling with five red kites, all having been disturbed by the leaf clearing train on the stretch of railway parallel to Long Lane one morning; and perhaps best of all, a pair of whooper swans were occupying a straw-covered field just yesterday. Despite a fusillade of shotgun reports that scattered huge numbers of rooks, jackdaws and pigeons, the swans remained in place, albeit very attentive with upstretched necks (and those necks do stretch a long way).

Attentive and retentive readers of this blog might recall that last time I described watching a kestrel hunting near the once-white, now red gates on the currently inaccurately named Whitegates Road. This time the same road has yielded a flock of at least 100 lapwings, mixed in with a bunch of gulls on the cereal-sown field alongside that productive highway. Mark Cocker, in his magnificent Birds Britannica lists 23 vernacular names for this bird, but apparently there are many more. There’s the prosaic Green plover; the descriptive name derived from its mournful call, peewit; the Shetland name of Tieve’s Nacket, and Norfolk’s Pie-wipe. Its scientific name is Vanellus vanellus. Whatever the name, they’re always a joy to see: modern agricultural practice doesn’t suit them as breeding birds here, but at least they visit us in decent numbers for the winter, so we can at least be glad of that. They’re unlikely to settle on our common, but they can often be spotted (and heard) flying overhead, and I remember seeing a solitary one on the central area a few years ago; I suspect it was unwell, or had fallen out with its flock: too much pee and not enough wit perhaps?

Today, grey and dreary though it was, 18 volunteers turned up at the Common to do some serious cutting back of the willow trees that line the boardwalk between the car park and our storage container. The aim was to knock them back far enough to stop them getting in the way of people walking along the boardwalk, without us having to revisit this particular stretch for at least a couple of years. However, because we’re talking about willows here, that might be a tad ambitious…

It looks as though at least two volunteers emerged from within the willowy tangle, like lost World War Two soldiers left behind in the jungle for decades.

While some wielded saws and loppers, others took control of the results…

… for them to be used to create two dead hedges. This one bears the mark of your correspondent’s contributions…

… It perhaps lacks the charm and artistry of the other hedge, of which its creators were justifiably proud.

This hedge lines what can only be described as a grotto, at the end of which you might expect to find a stoutly built kindly old gentleman in a red dressing gown – but not yet.

Every so often, a loud creaking noise could be heard. The obvious initial thought was that it was a volunteer’s back giving out, but no, it always turned out to be a tree yelling in protest at the removal of one of its intrusive limbs.

One particularly well cleared area was a touch on the boggy side. As the official photographer for the day, I did point out to those working there that it would be an especially good place from a comedy point of view if anyone fell over there. No-one did.

As well as trimming back the overhanging willows, the reeds also lining the boardwalk have a tendency to fall over and block the route, so a crack brush cutter team set out to trim some of those back too. Here they are making final preparations for the fray.

And here’s the result, for walkers to appreciate and enjoy.

We’re often visited by a string (is that the right word?) of Alpacas with their attendants, but not this time. However, a group of about 20 walkers came through, and were very gracious about being held up by a recently felled branch. Not this one, but you get the picture.

Apparently, they were from Norwich, but it wasn’t clear if they had walked all the way.

One of the joys of volunteering here is the group spirit, and there are lots of opportunities for enjoyment. Take for instance the disconnected branch that was prevented from following apple victim Isaac Newton’s gravity thing straight to the centre of the earth by still being attached to its parent tree by the sort of stringy thing that Tarzan would swing around the jungle on. With the branch dangling and swinging there, he who cut it down pretended to throw it to me, your correspondent – but the stringy thing (Honeysuckle perhaps?) only allowed it so far towards me, before grabbing it back to its starting position. My, how we laughed – several times! 

Here is team leader Kevin’s message of thanks:

Hello

To all of the 18 volunteers who turned out this morning in the damp conditions to lop, saw, drag, clear and brush cut, a big thank you. As always, when there is a degree of free rein in attacking and cutting back the trees encroaching the boardwalk, it was tackled with great gusto! This has resulted in the trees being taken well back from the boardwalk and will make walking along there so much nicer. Well done, also, to the brush cutter team for clearing the last of the overhanging reeds from the boardwalk.

We look forward to seeing you in a fortnight’s time when we will be starting on the reed bed.

Regards,

Kevin

Hanging out

 A few days ago I was watching a kestrel hunting, close to the red gates we still call the white gates (perhaps they will fade with age to ease our confusion). Basil (the dog) was less interested in it than me, but suffered the interruption to his walk with commendable and indeed unusual equanimity. The bird was hanging almost motionless, head into a stiff breeze, a hangover from an Atlantic storm, or trough, or perhaps my favourite meteorological express, a depression losing its identity.

Oblivious to our presence, the kestrel was intently focused on something edible on the grass verge about 20 feet below it, and every few seconds it dropped a few feet, stealthily descending on what it hoped would be its lunch. Every feather had a job to do, and all of them were doing it perfectly. At times it didn’t look as if any needed the slightest adjustment. Eventually, when perhaps no more than 6 feet above the ground it plunged and disappeared from my view behind the verge. Although it stayed down and out of sight for a while, I don’t think it was successful; when it rose again it was clearly carrying nothing, and recommenced hovering in the same place. In the arms race between hunter and prey the hunter loses more often than not, which is just as well, as if it was the other way round there would soon be no prey left. It struck me what a wonderful version of perfection that bird was; totally attuned to its environment and coping brilliantly with what the weather threw at it. Not for nothing did Gerard Manley Hopkins call it ‘Windhover’.

On Sunday I was hanging out too, with 14 friends on the Common to do a some more volunteering for Norfolk Wildlife Trust on a beautiful autumn morning, with just enough mist to be atmospheric, without it being a nuisance. No kestrel joined us, but happily a few skeins of geese flew over. This comes as something of a relief, as I have not seen many lately and I was beginning to fear they may have been badly affected by the deadly strain of Avian Influenza that is ravaging wild and farmed bird populations.

We’ve considered this question before, but I still don’t understand why it is that the act of using a brush is called ‘brushing’, but the act of using a broom is not ‘brooming’. Two of us spent the first half hour of the session both brooming and brushing on Jubilee boardwalk. A recent first-time visitor to this thoroughfare might legitimately have asked, ‘Where’s the boardwalk then?’ The answer was that it was festering under a thick wet blanket of cast-off leaves.

And here’s how it looked after our attention.

On School Meadow, the rest of the group were lopping overhanging scrub and dragging sheets bearing the results to an area to dump it in presciently created last year. 

Grizzly driver John cut the grass and dead bracken, before moving on to the path leading to the meadow from the main path through the woods.

A team leader’s whistle summoned us to our refreshment break, some ten minutes or so earlier than usual, to allow us time to be ready for our act of remembrance. And so, it being Remembrance Sunday, at 11.00 we joined in with the nationwide two-minute silence. It was an affecting pause in the half-time chatter, giving each of us a moment to reflect on the nature of sacrifice and loss, and how we have been affected personally.

The solemn pause over, the assembled group naturally returned to chatter for a few more minutes. In my corner that ranged from the rare pleasure of having a grey wagtail or house sparrows in your garden, to the similar scarcity of NHS dentists.

Noel is one of our stalwarts, and a very popular member of our team, so we have missed him recently during his enforced absence due to a gammy leg. It was therefore great to see him pedalling up on his fabulous folding bike. He might have been regretting his return when he found some barbed wire tangled in the bracken round the edge of the meadow. Team leader and first aider Kevin stepped into action to clean Noel’s finger up and apply a plaster. It illustrates the reason stout gloves are recommended (not that they stopped damage to Noel’s finger - but perhaps prevented it being worse).

Here's the offending tangle of undergrowth.

After the break Grizzly was then employed to trim back the edges of the main path through School Common, keeping at bay for another few months the ever-encroaching brambles and nettles.

Sheila appears to have found a hat for the elves at Christmas …

Having done all we had come to do the meadow now looks like this:

We then dispersed – or most of us, including your weary correspondent. A few remained however, to take the tools back to the store. Sadly, all did not go to plan, as Grizzly decided to stop opposite the school on the road, make a rather unpleasant noise and jump gear into reverse. It then stopped and did not want to restart - the temperamental thing loves to create a drama when it’s on the road!

They were left with a full trolley, broken Grizzly and a brushcutter on the side of the road. All this picture lacks is speech bubbles with lots of *!!** symbols representing very bad language. Team Leader Julie takes up the tale of woe:

Kevin chose this time to try and encourage a rather unwilling recruit for brushcutter training!

In the end a willing band of volunteers helped me to get the trolley and brushcutter back to the container, and Kevin and John managed to coax Grizzly back to life.

Grizzly hadn’t finished though as it managed to hook some wire on the boards at the container entrance. It was stopped to untangle the wire and when restarted refused to move…..until it was pointed out that the handbrake was on…the driver looked a little sheepish at this!

Luckily the pesky machine was finally parked in the container leaving us to deal with the wire on the boards. It went well until we ran out of staples and it took three of us to work out how to load new ones! Where is Margaret when you need her - our staple gun expert!

We all needed to go home for a lie down in a dark room I think!!

Here’s her message of thanks:

Hello all

Thank you to the 15 volunteers who met to work on School Common this morning. The team made short work of clearing the bracken, grass and overhanging scrub on the area by the picnic tables. Overhanging branches and scrub were also cleared from the path through School Common.

We observed a 2 minute silence at 11am and all had time for private thoughts with just the bird song to be heard.

Extra thanks go to the volunteers who were still around when Grizzly broke down on the way back to the container and helped to get the other equipment back to the container whilst the 'beast' was coaxed back to life.

We will meet again in two weeks’ time  - possibly at the Pit but we will confirm this nearer to the time.

Regards,

Julie (for the TLs)

Rain didn’t stop the (working) party

 

The small grassy patch of common between Bradfield Road and the main boardwalk is a joy to behold each early spring, when it is smothered in snowdrops. That’s no accident; without annual attention it would be overgrown and the pretty flowers nowhere to be seen. Cutting and clearing that bit was today’s task, along with more boardwalk edge tidying and scrub being kept in its place. Your usual correspondent was unsurprisingly absent from today’s soggy working party, meaning that the usual level of gentle ribbing/blatant abuse of my fellow volunteers is missing from this blog posting. Even so, grizzled Grizzly driver John gave me licence to abuse him anyway, but as any Norwich City striker will tell you, it’s not easy scoring in an open goal.

Team leader and deputy blogger Julie takes up the story…

I think our regular correspondent obviously saw the correct forecast today - mine had said light cloud and a moderate breeze....hmm, not quite what we got!

The Grizzly team set to work a wet hour before anyone else to cut the mix of reed, grass and nettles on the target area.

We were not sure how many volunteers we would get in the rain, but 12 hardy souls braved the weather to take up pitchforks, loppers, saws, brushcutters and brushes to clear the cuttings on the Bradfield Road spur of the boardwalk, clear overhanging scrub and branches and to clear the boardwalk edges from the spur to the Car Park. 

'One man and his mower'.....Not long after the volunteers arrived, Grizzly was taken home to be cleaned up - its work done for today. 

Pitchforks were wielded to manually clear the cuttings from the area to clear the way for the snowdrops to make their dazzling appearance. Despite the rain it was a warm day and layers were soon coming off!

Scrub and overhanging branches were cleared along the edges - though I am not sure this photo really depicts this activity to its best - maybe a lesson in setting up action shots is in order...this looks more like our volunteer is verbally persuading the scrub to retreat - now there is an idea we could get used to!

The lower reed and grassy edges along the boardwalk were soon seen off by our brushcutters - now that is more like an action shot!

                 

At last half time arrived and we decamped under the oak tree for our usual coffee break - and some very nice choccie biscuits today! I had thought the oak tree would offer shelter initially, but it soon became clear that the water dripping from its branches was probably heavier than the rain in the open! Apologies to Margaret for filling her provisions bag with water! 

The second half of our session continued much along the lines of the first half, but the results of today's efforts are spectacular…

 The Bradfield Road side of the main common is cut and cleared, ready to welcome the snowdrops.

The Bradfield Road spur boardwalk is clear on both sides ready to welcome visitors to the site.

The entrance from the car park is equally clear and inviting.

As is the boardwalk in between the two points.

We hope you all enjoy visiting our lovely common!

Here is Team Leader Kevin's message of thanks:

Hello all

A big thankyou to the 12 hardy souls who turned out this morning to clear the area along the Bradfield Road spur and boardwalk. Despite the steady drizzle the group wielded their pitchforks, loppers, saws and brushcutters to great effect, not forgetting Grizzly and his driver who started early in order to get a head start on the group as there was no pre-cut this week. 

Hopefully we will see you all again in two weeks' time when we will be on School Common.

Thanks,

Kevin 

Dealing with growth

 

Let’s set aside for a blissful moment the Whitehall farce that is proceeding with all the foreboding of an approaching hurricane. Despite the “turmoil” around the thorny question of economic growth, it is very evident that on our beloved (and for now, at least, legally protected) Common, the biological type of growth has been carrying on in the way it tends to do – even considering the summer’s drought.

Areas A and B, the species-rich grassy sections on the Warren Road side of Fox’s Beck, are cut on alternate years. As any faithful readers with retentive memories will know, it was the turn of Area B to be cut this year; the job to be completed in the rather short period between the end of the bird nesting season and the end of September. The critically important cutting part of the task was indeed done on time, and the working party a fortnight ago did an amazing job in clearing away a vast amount of the resulting “arisings”. However, some had to be left for later, including a small amount on Area A, where invasive reeds and Michaelmas Daisies need controlling annually.

So it was on another gorgeous autumn morning that 22 volunteers convened at the civilised time of 10.00 am. Not only is that the biggest turnout of the current cutting season, it is also the best of the whole year so far. The sky was a fabulous blue, there was only the lightest of breezes, and in the sunshine the temperature was pleasantly warm; warm enough indeed to prompt the early discarding of coats and jumpers.

Spare a thought however for the winch crew, sequestered in the deep shade cast by the Alders growing alongside Fox’s Beck. When they emerged into the sunshine at the half-time break, they were quite surprised at the difference in temperature.

What was somewhat different about this particular day’s task was the distance between the material to be shifted, and the place it had to be dumped. This was taken from the dump site.

Indeed, the long black bit of string which I am told (quite forcibly) is a rope, was only just long enough. The contingency was an extra length of string rope which it was to be my job to connect to the end of the main rope and onwards to the drag sheet itself. I was quite looking forward to that, which tells you something. Anyway, my little ambition was thwarted, but no matter, bigger plans than that have come to nothing recently.

The distance involved meant, mathematics being what they are, that each pull took considerably longer than our usual, shorter pulls. We have clever people in charge, and the order was issued to pile the sheets high. We would have sold them cheap, but times are hard, and nobody wanted to buy. We were aided in this audacious plan by having nice dry material to shift. Thank goodness for the winch; hauling those sheets by hand all that way, as we used to do, would have meant at least one more session required. Here’s one of the last sheets of the day on its way to the heap.

Of course, it’s not all about the winchers; nor even the tireless guides of the sheets being pulled, among which I am proud to be numbered. No, the stuff has to be pitched onto the sheets, and that’s down by the wielders of forks, known as forkers.

The giddier members of this group are known as silly forkers.

Once the forkers have forked and the guides have guided, the stuff has to be tipped out, creating ever-growing heaps. Thankfully, this too is done using the power of the winch, as it used to be the hardest part of the process pre-winch. Although they rot down over a few months, the heaps can be quite high; clambering over them requires a head for heights, and it’s easy to lose sight of your fellow sufferers workers.

It will come as no surprise to regular readers of this blather that an hour into the session we broke for a break. Unusually, your correspondent found himself some distance from the oasis, which explains this distant view of the assembled multitude. It being such a nice morning, there were several groups of walkers making their way along the boardwalk, and it’s a testament to their British reserve that none assumed that this was merely a kindly refreshment stop laid on for thirsty walkers.

With 22 volunteers, we had the luxury of being able to divide our forces. Some went off to do some scrub control…

… others tidied up the edges of the boardwalk…

... and some struck out into the depths to remove some of the Himalayan Balsam plants that had survived the earlier cull. That’s them, carrying the white sacks bulging with the offending plants.

Team Leader Kevin broke out the Tree Popper; an incredibly useful tool for uprooting Alder saplings to prevent them from colonising the area.

At the end of the session, Area B looked like this…

… and the bit of Area A that was dealt with looked like this.

All that was left was to trudge off-site, taking the tools back to the store, whilst whistling a merry tune (unlike the rest of this post, that bit’s made up).

Here is Team Leader Margaret’s message of thanks:

Hello all.

Weren't we blessed with a beautiful autumn morning? Thank you to the 22 volunteers who helped to finish area B. In fact we managed to do some scrub bashing, Himalayan pulling and edge tidying. You can all be very proud of what you have achieved. The task for the next working party has yet to be finalised, so look out for Julie's e-mail.

We send out love and best wishes to Les and Margaret.

Margaret for the team leaders

 On a wildlife note, we spotted flying overhead with hungry looks in their eyes a Heron, a Buzzard and a Kestrel. A friendly Robin kept us company at the dumping point too.