Here we go again

Sandwiched between a bright breezy day and a threatened stormy one, the first session of the new cutting season took place on the central area of the Common - the bit we affectionately call Area G. (It’s tempting fate to say so, but we do seem to be fairly lucky with the weather for our sessions; this morning was a bit on the warm and humid side, but the rain held off until we were long gone.) 15 volunteers turned up at the advertised start time of 10.00, ready to remove the material cut a few days earlier by Brian, John and Kevin – for which we were suitably grateful. Here’s the area as they left it.

Before long the Grillo was in use, in the capable hands of Team Leaders Kevin and Michelle. This part of the Common is relatively easy to deal with I am told (being a wimp I have never touched the terrifying machine), so there was soon a lot of nice light material lying around ready for those of us more comfortable with a pitchfork or rake to deal with. (I was told it was too early in the season for me trot out my usual joke about this being the rake’s progress, but Noel was allowed to say that as unpaid volunteers this was all we were raking in.)

Some of the sheets, if loaded lightly enough, were close enough to the dumping site to be dragged by hand…

… leaving the winch crew to mechanically drag the heavier and more distant loads.

Early on in the session a bees’ nest was discovered in the grass. We think they’re escaped honey bees, and we could see (cautiously) some exposed honeycomb. Naturally, we didn’t want to upset them further, so made sure to give them a wide berth.

We might have experienced unusually hot and dry weather in the spring and early summer, but the sponge that is our common has been partially replenished since. One of our iconic plants is the Bogbean, and this image perhaps illustrates why it has that name.

Another important plant here is the Marsh Lousewort – again, not a pretty name. Its great value is that it parasitises adjacent plants and weakens them. In this case, it helps keep reeds in check in this area, leaving room for other, rarer plants which it finds less toothsome to thrive. A section of the area where it is particularly numerous has been taped off to keep the Grillo and its drivers away, but some grows outside that exclusion zone, and is fair game for the chop. Here’s one languishing on a drag sheet, as an example to its friends.

The half-time break came at, well, half time, and was an opportunity to catch up with folk we might not have seen for months. Dark chocolate digestives were gratefully received, along with the usual hot beverages. (Where, oh where, are those flagons of scrumpy that used to accompany harvest in days of yore?)

Work continued in much the same vein after our reviving refreshment, until all that had been cut had been removed. And that was a considerable amount.

Then it was a case of packing up. Amongst the impressive skill sets held by our volunteers is the ability to fold up a large tarpaulin into a tiny space; almost, but not quite, napkin-sized. It’s a skill we see here being passed on.

Here’s how Area G looked at the end of the session.

And here is Team Leader Michelle’s message of thanks.

HI all

Well, welcome back to another season of reed bashing!

Thank you to the 15 volunteers today, it was pretty humid out there, but with your hard efforts the area was left looking good.

Thank you also to Kevin, Brian and John for cutting the area last week and thank you, as always, to Margaret for organising and for providing the refreshments.

Hopefully see you all on 17th.

Michelle (for the Team Leaders)

Before the onset of this main part of our work, there was one last chance for half a dozen dedicated souls to hoik out a load more Himalayan Balsam plants. We speculated on the number and weight of what we have jointly removed this year – the answer was a xx!! lot. Here’s an exciting shot of the heap of rotting and indeed rotten balsam as we left it.

Meanwhile, nature has been taking its course, with some creatures coming whilst others have gone. In the latter camp are the swifts, which I at least have not noticed for a week or two now. There are still plenty of swallows however, flitting and chittering around: no doubt in a month or so they will start gathering together on overhead phone lines before heading off for the African skies. Most other birds have decided now is the time to keep a low profile and put their feet up after a hard summer’s child rearing. They’re also preparing their winter wardrobe, and moulting leaves them vulnerable, so it’s best that they don’t draw attention to themselves.

Invertebrates however are very visible; in the case of wasps too much so for some people’s tastes. No doubt they’re making up for the unfavourable conditions of the last couple of years, and even if they don’t actually make hay, they’re certainly taking advantage of times when the sun shines. Large numbers of Gatekeeper, Comma and Large White butterflies have been fluttering around, and your own correspondent was honoured with a visit by this Hummingbird Hawk Moth.

Another garden visitor, this time from the famous “garden adjacent to the Common”, and indeed right indoors, was a fabulous Roesel’s Bush Cricket.

I couldn’t get a good enough photo to show here, but I was also excited to see a Hornet Mimic Hoverfly in the garden a few days ago. I gather these fabulous (if fearsome-looking) harmless beasts are able to infiltrate nests of wasps and hornets in order to lay their eggs there, with the resulting grubs helping themselves to the rubbish in the nest in a relationship called commensalism. So good news all round.

On a damp morning on Jubilee Boardwalk this Southern Hawker dragonfly was spotted, unwilling to flit between the raindrops.