On the pull

Spurred on by the freshening North Sea breeze taking the sting out of the latest heatwave, eight Balsam Bashers returned to the Common today. We needed another sweep of the reedbed area near the Lower Street car park, as inevitably more plants had popped up since our efforts two weeks before.

The advice was to wear wellies, as despite the recent lack of rain the ground is a peaty sponge, there is still plenty of wet stuff to be found, and the chalk stream Fox’s Beck never runs dry. We know Noel got the memo, but still he chose to wear ordinary boots. Within 90 seconds he regretted it, as he slipped into the Beck. Ever anxious for my own safety I enquired as to the depth of the stream. Learning that it was only up to his ankles I felt justified in cautiously dipping my waterproofed feet in.

Here’s the well-disguised water in question:

Team Leader Julie found herself confronted by a mass of reeds; she was thinking, “I can see HB but how do I get it!?

Nonetheless, she was able to snap your correspondent and the said Noel as we bravely made our way into the jungle.

That Team Leader was the author of the welly advice, yet despite taking it herself she found this deep puddle that went to top of her boot. She reports, “I stepped in and ended up with one knee down 😳 but no one saw it!!!” [Pity -ed]

Meanwhile, moving ever deeper into the unknown, I was presented with plenty of challenging vegetation.

One of the privileges of volunteering on the Common is that you get to parts of it that you otherwise should not venture into: on this occasion I blundered into a patch greatly favoured by many pale moths (no idea of the species I’m afraid). My meandering route took me to the Beck where it flows beneath overhanging branches. With the sunshine filtering through the undergrowth, it was lovely.

Pulling up Himalayan Balsam is fairly easy, if you pull the right plant. There’s one that has very similar leaves, although they are a slightly deeper green, and its stalk is a similar thickness to a small Balsam plant, but much stronger. The trick is to give it a steady gentle pull: if it’s a Balsam it will more often than not come out of the soft ground easily. It’s also important to avoid bending over in such a way as to give yourself a faceful of nettles! HB as we affectionately know it greatly enjoys the company of nettles, thistles, brambles and bindweed.

Another of the joys of bashing the Balsam is that when you get a stalk of the right thickness, as you snap it it gives a satisfying “thwock”; a pleasure for me that never tires.

This plant is capable of growing prodigiously. We often display trophy plants of great height, but I personally have never seen one with such a thick stem, as found by Bob.

At the end of the allotted hour we convened at the Information Point in order to tip out our booty, amongst much good-natured banter about the weight of each other’s sacks. It added considerably to the existing pile.

No refreshment break photo this time of course, but here are some of the doughty volunteers. No Noel you will notice: he apologised for being back late, as he was “on the pull”!

Here is Team Leader Margaret’s message of thanks:

Morning all,

Yet again and enormous thank you to the 8 volunteers who turned out at 9.00. I hope they, like me, are very pleased to have got the job done before the heat of the day, even if it did mean such an early start. Thanks to you we continue to make progress with the Himalayan Balsam. The fact that some of it was in flower and is now six feet tall did make it easier to find but fortunately none had yet gone to seed. Honestly we will win eventually, but only thanks to your dedication.

You will be delighted to know that there will be a repeat performance next Sunday.

Enjoy your day and thanks as always for your support.

Margaret for the Team Leaders.

 

Botanical surveying

The botanists were out on the central area (G) a couple of weeks ago doing a plant survey …

… but they were also joined by this common lizard. 

Fish hawks and falcons

I have been enjoying watching online the raising of our local celebrity raptors. The three Cromer Peregrines have now fledged and are no longer visible on the webcam, although I believe they are still hanging around the church and there’s a chance of seeing them there before they disperse. The fabulous Ospreys at NWT Ranworth Broad are still visible either by a personal visit, or on the excellent webcam at https://www.norfolkwildlifetrust.org.uk/RanworthCamera . Here’s a screenshot I grabbed the other day, showing an adult with its now very well-grown chick.

It may be the small boy inside me, but I find myself excited whenever I see a predator. I’m sure that grown-ups have got this under control, but most middle-aged (or is it elderly?) men have not yet reached that state of enlightenment. Accordingly, the other day whilst walking on Tap Road swallow alarm cries drew my attention to an aerial skirmish, with a hobby (the fabulously named Falco subbuteo) hot on the tail of one swallow, whilst being harassed by several other twittering hirundines. At a guess the falcon was pursuing a young bird, which the adults were trying to protect. It was only a brief but exciting glimpse before they all flew out of sight behind some trees, so I don’t know the result, although apparently most bird of prey hunts end in failure, so perhaps the target lived to fly another day and the pursuer had to try again – possibly snacking on dragonflies.

A while back I mentioned that I had borrowed from the library A Year with Gilbert White: The First Great Nature Writer by Jenny Uglow. I am very happy that I now own a copy, by way of my dear wife congratulating me for delving even deeper into my dotage. Good old Gilbert took great interest in many aspects of the natural world, one of them being swifts and the mystery of where they went to in winter. Turning to the entry for this date in 1781 I see that he was concerned to find only one swift, although by the evening many more were circling and no doubt screaming overhead. Rather like now, the weather that day was strange: strong sunshine, accompanied by a stiff wind, and an overcast evening. One of the great legacies of his observations is that he recorded the weather conditions every day, along with whatever natural phenomena caught his interest. Truly a great pioneer citizen scientist!