If the nettles don’t get you, the thistles will

We convened at 09.00; a remarkably early start in the hopes of avoiding the worst of the threatened heat. This being so close to the dawn, I was disappointed not to be greeted by druids having another crack at solstice greeting. The 11 familiar volunteers were however a delight to reconnect with, of course, although such an unearthly hour does not suit my metabolism well. Once the sleep was rubbed from my eyes, I was as ready as the rest of them to plunge into the undergrowth of Area A (on the Warren Road side of Fox’s Beck), in search of the beastly Balsam.

Still being in the midst of a heatwave, with yesterday being the year’s hottest so far (why do the weather people on the telly report on extreme records with such glee?), we were bound to suffer, dressed as we were for protection against the rampant vegetation – not to mention the sun. The suffering is of course lessened in the knowledge that you are all in it together, and the usual jolly banter was to be heard from within the reedy depths.

The usual game of hide and seek ensued, with the doughty crew doing a lot of seeking, and the balsam doing a lot of hiding.

Never one to follow the crowd, your correspondent was spotted looking the other way. No wonder his haul excited some derisory comments!

Here I am, desperately searching for a big one to fill my bag and gain some credibility.

In addition to the usual stinging nettles and nasty spikey thistles, the prevalence of goose grass/cleavers was striking. We found several dense mats of the stuff: Noel assured me that it can be made into a tasty soup.

There were some seed heads of the Great Reedmace poking up above the rest.

Wildlife was not much in evidence, but no sooner had Noel said he hadn’t seen any ladybirds this year than this one demanded to have its picture taken.

And Team Leader Julie saw several of these hanging on for dear life as we trampled through their home!

After a hot and it has to be said sweaty hour, we reconvened on the boardwalk and trudged back to the car park, laden with sacks, some of which were brimming with plucked up plants. That desperate search for my credibility mentioned above resulted in me mugging Sheila for her over-filled bag: the photographic record shows the strain I put myself under (ahem).

For the avoidance of doubt, should any be present, my actual bag is the less well filled one in my left hand; but every single little plant removed counts, doesn’t it?

Here is Team Leader Margaret’s message of thanks:

A very hot and heartfelt thank you to the 11 volunteers who came this morning to pull the blighters. I hope that you were so hot in bed this morning that the early hour was a pleasure not a chore. 

Not one of the plants we have pulled up this year has been in flower so there is absolutely no chance of them having reproduced so thank you for the supreme effort you are putting in. The proof of how effective we are will be seen next year. I would love to say that that was it for the year, but I fear there are still plants to be pulled. As you have all worked so hard we have decided to do the next pull in three weeks’ time. Location to be advised once we have walked the plot again. So far we have spent a total of 33 hours on this task alone. I think Duncan can tell us in the blog how many we totalled last year and the year before.

Thank you all. Enjoy a lovely afternoon.

Margaret for the team leaders.

[There were 34 hours spent on pulling up Himalayan Balsam in 2024, and 69.5 in 2023.]

The sightings board reveals the range of plants and animals that are being spotted on the Common. Recently these include

Black Horehound

Honeysuckle

Yellow rattle

Muntjac Common Lizard Marsh Helleborine Song thrush Buzzards overhead Reed warbler

And at last some butterflies have appeared: Speckled wood, meadow brown and ringlet are now in evidence here. Here’s a pristine speckled wood I found on School Common a few days ago.

And this Comma popped up in my garden recently

The ‘Peasant Poet’ John Clare delightfully called chiffchaffs ‘Pettichaps’, and ours are still singing, as well as a wren shouting loud enough in my garden to almost drown out the circling warplanes. The reed warbler near the Lower Street car park is still singing, as is the occasional blackcap. Yellowhammers are audible in the surrounding area, and we can still enjoy the reassuring screams of hurtling overhead swifts.

Not seen on the Common, but in my fairly small Southrepps garden I was pleased to see this striking Large Rose Sawfly

And finally for now, this Longhorn beetle

 

X marks the spot

X of course does not refer to the new name given to Twitter by its strange owner, but it is the evocative name given to the area of The Common just beyond Area B on the Warren Road side of Fox’s Beck. In truth, it would be better named “XXX**!XX” as a fair approximation of the language employed by our plucky Balsam Bashers as they encountered head-high nettles, goose grass and dried reed stems intent on blinding them.

Yesterday we had rain on and off all day, with the highlight being a thunderstorm in which lumps of hail hurled themselves down with un-called-for force. That would not have been welcome today, but thankfully that nasty stuff had moved off in order to top-up the North Sea, and we were rewarded for our volunteering zeal with dry and breezy conditions. Indeed, that breeze had been effective in drying out the vegetation, so we didn’t even suffer from that.

A select group of eight convened for a spot of Himalayan Balsam bashing at the appointed time, with your correspondent making a ninth a bit later. I missed being part of the main party heading over across Area B: very carefully to Area X as the ground has some deep ‘ankle breaker’ holes.

Noel is displaying an impressive halo! (He didn’t entertain us with much singing this time, the one offering being a heartfelt rendition of Katie Melua’s “This is the closest to crazy”.)

The beastly balsam is generally still quite small at this stage of its development, so the only thing to do is cast your eyes down and look in the undergrowth.

It’s a great place for playing hide and seek: where’s Kevin?

After an hour it was time to extract ourselves from the XXX**!XX area: Team Leader Margaret had counted us all out, and she counted us all back, complete with laden sacks. From the rear of the group it was entertaining to see the trailblazers sticking their free arms out to balance as the encountered the many holes in the ground: sadly this photo does not quite capture the moment.

Here’s the usual photo of the growing heap of rotting balsam. Already, Margaret estimates many thousand plants have been uprooted – but there will be plenty more popping up later!

I mentioned in the last posting that the Cotton Grass in the central area of the Common was doing very well, and I see that it has now even spread up to almost the bit of boardwalk heading towards the bridge over the untroubled water flowing down Fox’s Beck.

Team Leader Julie also caught a few of our special plants on camera today…

Meadow thistle on Area B

Marsh Orchid (we think??) with Ragged Robin on the central area.

Here is her message of thanks:

Hello all,

This is to thank the nine who turned out today to brave the unpredictable Area X to remove more Himalayan Balsam. It was not as wet as we thought even after the rain and hail yesterday which was a pleasant surprise!

We are attempting to prevent the invasive Himalayan  Balsam from moving into the Fen area adjacent, and we pulled a very impressive number of small plants today. Definitely counted in thousands, Margaret estimated 50,000, and every one plant pulled up helps us to halt its march across the Common.

Good job today team!

Thanks

Julie and the TLs

 

Summer now being officially underway, as you can tell by the drop in temperature and the reappearance of rain, there’s a fair bit of Nature about on the Commons and nearby. I have mentioned before that variant of Sod’s Law that says that only if you don’t have a camera with you will you come across something crying out to be photographed, and this time it was because I found a reed warbler singing its head off. Not in full view of course - they rarely are – but visible enough to make for a reasonable photo to share with you dear reader. By way of compensation, here’s one I did succeed in taking earlier: much earlier in fact – June 2011 to be exact.

I was back at the same spot (the thin bit of reedbed near the car park) a couple of days ago, this time armed with my camera (which spent most of the time inside my waterproof jacket, giving me a very portly appearance). I did actually see the bird, whizzing out of the reeds across the boardwalk into the willows opposite, but there was no way it was going to pose for me. I had been pleased a few minutes before to discover a singing reed bunting at the edge of the large reedbed we cut last winter. I was particularly pleased about this, as I had not heard one for the last couple of months and was afraid that this year they had given us a miss. It was too far off for me to get a good enough picture of it, so here’s another from way back in 2015.

I bumped into our friends Tim and Jane on a sunny visit to Warren Woods a few days before this. It appeared that Tim was engrossed in photographing the ground, but it turned out that he had found a group of Green Tiger Beetles, and he was very excited about it. His enthusiasm is infectious, so I was soon equally engrossed; dogs Basil and Nellie less so. Here’s one of Tim’s resulting pictures: it took some taking, as they are very active.

Not on the Common, but still in the village, I came across a couple of robins having a rare old punch-up. We’ve seen it often enough on the telly, but here it was in front of my eyes at the junction of Clipped Hedge Lane and Sandy Lane. They were rolling around in the dust, completely oblivious to me, and it really looked as though one would kill the other (see https://www.birdspot.co.uk/bird-brain/do-robins-fight-to-the-death) . They eventually broke apart when I said “ahem” but I don’t know if either was injured. I did see a robin at the same place the next day, but whether his rival is still about is anyone’s guess.

Bank Holiday Balsam Bash

After what seems like months of drought here in our neck of the woods, we’ve finally had some rain – right on target for our first Himalayan Balsam elimination working party of the year. A sharp shower left us all a little on the damp side, and judging by the occasional cries of despair, the swelling watercourses were deep enough to fill the unwary welly-wearer’s wellies. A magnificent 13 of us turned up for this session, and there was much excited speculation that this could be a record for a Balsam Bash. Sadly, the records reveal that 13 were also present on 16^th July 2023, so it’s only a joint record – until the next session perhaps? In a July 2022 HB working party 15 hours were recorded, with 14 people attending, but at least one of those was engaged in trimming the sides of the boardwalk: so close- but no cigar.

Nevertheless, at this stage un-troubled by thoughts of statistical glory, after Team Leader Margaret’s briefing on the hazards to avoid, we plunged in. This is what we were looking for:

And this was where we were looking!

Here we see people hard at work:

Some brave souls then forded the beck to get to the other side.

Some lovely (non-invasive!) wildflowers were nestling in the undergrowth

Large bittercress is very prolific at the moment: it’s an ugly name for a pretty plant.

There are also some rotting tree stumps, of great value to many invertebrates and fungi.

Noel being present, there was naturally a tendency to burst into song. The first faltering rendition was Working on a Chain Gang, but we couldn’t remember who sang it. (Sam Cooke, as it turns out.) Pathetic attempts were made by Noel’s accompanists to recreate the canon of Joe Jackson, but to no avail. (Possibly the song on your correspondent’s lips was Is She Really Going Out with Him? but a miserable failure must be recorded.)

The scheduled hour completed, we re-convened at the Information Point in order to dump the spoils. This is the resulting heap – there were a lot of small victims, so probably 1000s of plants have been removed. Note the damp Team Leader.

Sue’s bag didn’t look as full as some, but her excuse was the slight wear and tear evident on the bag. It’s possible that several plants might have fallen out…

Here is Team Leader Margaret’s message of thanks:

Here we go again!

An enormous thank you to the thirteen who braved the very heavy shower (yes we all got thoroughly soaked after such a long dry spell). We did a tremendous clearance pulling several thousand plants. Getting them so early ensured that there was no chance of them setting seed. We will of course need to return later to get the ones we missed.

In two weeks’ time we will be on area  B or as described by Kevin, cross the beck and turn right. We really are making a difference to the amount of Balsam present so thank you for your dedication.

Margaret (for the team leaders).

Since the last blog posting, the Cotton Grass in the central area of the Common has put on a fine show, declared to be the best for many years. Also showing themselves are RaggedRobin, Pignut and MarshValerian. Pendulous sedge is also visible, as are some Southern Marsh Orchids.

A cuckoo was heard calling for a couple of mornings, but it’s likely that it has moved on elsewhere. The first common lizards of the year have been noted on the sightings whiteboard. There are lots of invertebrates active now, but how’s this for a surprising one? Two Sabre Wasps joined Team Leader Margaret in her garden room recently. They look fearsome, but only grubs hiding in rotting wood should be alarmed.

The Common looking at its best right now

Well, the May blossom being well and truly out, and the warm weather having well and truly returned, many clouts have been cast. It seems to me that the warm weather is unusually warm for early May and it feels like Spring has jumped into Summer without waiting the customary period. Bob Dylan’s line “Time is a jet plane, it moves too fast” seems more appropriate than ever, or perhaps it’s just my advancing years…

Here at least, the showers of April were few and far between, and water levels are low; the Pit is already empty, and I imagine the early Moorhen breeding attempt has failed: farmers are already deploying their XXXL size hosepipes.

Having said all that, ill omen though it might be, this weather is undoubtedly pleasant to be out and about in, and the Common looks at its best at this time of year.

One of the iconic plants to be found at this spot now is the Bog Bean. This photo was taken in 2013, but it's gratifying to know that there are still plenty here.

When this place was being managed by the Southrepps Commons Trust, the Bog bean formed the Trust’s logo.

Plants also in evidence at the moment are:

Red Campion

Moschatel

The flower is tiny, and its other name of Town Hall Clock is because on each stalk are four flowers, neatly arranged as though they are the faces of a clock on the tower of, well, a town hall. Once you get your eye in (or are accompanied by an eagle-eyed botanist) you discover it is surprisingly numerous.

Cowslip

Bittercress

The summer migrant birds are mostly all here now, or else they just aren’t coming. Swallows have been with us for a while, and in very recent days swifts and house martins have put in an appearance. Singing in the reedbeds are a couple of reed warblers, but sadly no sedge warbler has been reported. Someone noted a Cetti’s Warbler on the sightings whiteboard, and I have been told that a cuckoo has been heard in the vicinity.

Those tiny scraps of life Goldcrests are very much in evidence, if you can make out their high-pitched song. A recent walk in the company of three attentive ladies provided excellent views for once of this bird, which is so often audible but yet invisible, as well as more plants than a simple birder can remember.

Not on any of the five commons, but not too far off, I happened to spot a group of three Fallow Deer emerging from some woodland bordering a cereal field. I have never seen these here, or indeed anywhere in the wild, so this was a welcome first for me. This species had been noted on the whiteboard once during the winter, and we were surprised by that, but it does appear that they are around after all.

Butterflies are on the wing now, and reported as having been seen on the commons or nearby are:

Brimstone

Comma

Orange Tip

Speckled Wood

Red Admiral

Green-veined white

Peacock

As the season wears on we can expect Meadow Browns, Ringlets, Gatekeepers and hopefully some less common ones!

 

Walking in School Common the other day I was surprised and saddened to discover this road works sign, which had been lugged there from where it was meant to be. It has been reported to NWT and will hopefully be removed soon. 

Last time we mentioned the replacement of the main boardwalk, starting with the sections most urgently in need. At that point a start had been made on the small section leading to our tool store, which had become quite hazardous. Soon after the last posting was published, the job was completed by our NWT warden George and a volunteer from Cley. Here’s how it looks now.

No doubt before long we will hear the call to arms for the first phase of the elimination of this year’s crop of Himalayan Balsam: can’t wait! (ahem).

Boardwalk, books, birds and other spring things

 As we are too well aware, the main boardwalk is deteriorating, but the good news is that its replacement has begun! Our NWT warden George has obtained funding to replace it bit by bit, and the first section has just been done. Unfortunately, few volunteers were free to help on Monday 7^th April, but Andrew and Jenny were there to lend their support. Here’s what Andrew reported:

“Jenny and I represented the Southrepps volunteers on the boardwalk work-party this morning. And what a perfect spring morning it was for a bit of gentle labouring in the beautiful English countryside.

 It took us about two hours to unload the new wood from the trailer (parked on the Bradfield Road corner verge) and move it to the work site. We also loaded up George’s trailer with the old boardwalk wood: he’s decided to take it back to Cley where he has a skip.

One of the Cley volunteers (Ian) also assisted. George, Ian and one other NWT chap will be laying part of the new boardwalk this afternoon.”

They did so well that George cancelled the next day’s work party. He had something else he needed to attend to but returned two days later to put new netting on the boardwalk.  He was very grateful for the help from Andrew and Jenny. Here are a couple of pictures to show the new section in place,

At the same time a start was also made on replacing the very dodgy bit outside the tool store. Here’s how it looked a few days ago: it’s waiting for more materials before it can be finished.

We’ve been treated to a lot of exceptional Spring weather lately; perhaps too much sun and very little desperately needed rain, but hey, “mustn’t grumble.” As a result, as revealed by the sightings board at the information point, things have really taken off since our last posting. Lessercelandines are everywhere and marshmarigold has been reported, along with the regular snake’shead fritillary, the presence of which remains mysterious. On the bird front chiffchaffs and great tits are singing everywhere, (Here’s a link to a recording I made on 19^th March), and blackcaps were first reported on 31^st March.

There were a few real highlights too: a pair of ravens has been spotted several times (perhaps they’re breeding somewhere – let’s hope so), and the best bird of all was a hawfinch, which graced the feeders in a garden very close to the Common, as shown in this fabulous picture.

Not close enough to the Common to merit a tick for the site, but your own correspondent was very excited to catch a fleeting glimpse of a female henharrier elsewhere in the Southrepps area. It was presumably passing through, no doubt on its way to an upland area to breed. We have to hope it evades the guns of those misguided people who continue to break the law by attempting to wipe out anything that might fancy a grouse for a meal. They really are fabulous birds.

It’s a general rule that the best sightings occur when the observer is out without a decent camera, as was the case with the said harrier. However, having recently missed out on photographing an unusually obliging blackcap on Jubilee Boardwalk recently, I encumbered myself with the necessary equipment a few days later. All to no avail until back on Jubilee Boardwalk I spotted a treecreeper creeping up a tree. These mouse-like birds can be hard to spot, and harder still to photograph, but I present to you this heavily cropped and therefore somewhat blurred image.

I have also seen a few swallows in the area, but not enough yet to make a summer. No house martins yet grace my year list, and even if they were here there’s precious little wet mud around for them to use to make their nests.

On that dry note, it was pleasing to see frogspawn at The Pit around 20^th March, but the water level there is already looking very low, which might not do much for the chances of many tadpoles becoming frogs.

And now for a few books related to the season:

Raising Hare, Chloe Dalton’s first foray into authorship, is beautifully written; unsentimental yet unconditionally kind and respectful of a wild animal that chose to treat her as an equal. Everything about the book, including the drawn images and its general production, is exquisite. The author was an extremely busy London-based professional who found herself confined to her country home during the first pandemic lockdown. She found a very young leveret (baby hare) on the track leading to her house one morning, and it was still there in an unusually exposed location many hours later, so she felt compelled to rescue it. She had no idea how to look after it (who does?) and everything pointed to it ending badly, but with advice and research she found a way. The hare was never caged and as soon as it felt the urge it was able to come and go, eventually producing at least three litters of its own leverets. Everything about this book is beautiful, but it does come with one difficulty: it’s difficult to put down.

Spring is the only season by the prolific Simon Barnes includes the usual stuff about plants re-growing or sprouting anew in this most beloved season, plus plenty on the relationship of spring to literature, religion, art, and mythology. He also explains why it is that we experience different seasons in our northern latitudes, while the tropics don’t. All good stuff and well worth a read. Both these books are available from Norfolk County Libraries.

On the subject of beautiful books, I was lucky enough to stumble across a treasure trove of Ladybird books in a charity shop recently, so pounced on What to Look for in Spring and Autumn and Winter.

When tthis volume was published in 1961 it cost 2/6 and at that time children were being told they should be able to see, amongst other things, lapwings doing their display flight, grey wagtails, cuckoos, turtle doves, and nightingales – my, how things have changed!