Mike's Natural Musings: Bluebells

Showing posts with label Bluebells. Show all posts

Sunday, 15 May 2022

Lake Distict, May, Day 5

Expecting an inclement day, we were pleased when we woke to a dry, if dull, morning. As the day went on it became more and more pleasant and even hot later. Pack up made and rucksacks packed we set off for one of our favourite walks: down into the valley to Bowston, along the river Kent to Stavely and then back home over the fields. Today, however, as last May we left the river to climb up the valley side to walk through Dorothy Farrar Spring wood as it is one of the finest bluebell woods around. As we wandered through Rather Heath Woods, adjacent to the site we delighted in the display of bluebells here, their heady, hyacinth scent filling the air. I was also delighted to hear a pied flycatcher singing and realised that we had heard one the day before as we left Gait Barrows. Chiffchaff and blackcap were also singing in the wood. We crossed under the busy Windermere road and then strolled down the green lane to Bowston Farm where we watched swallows, sitting on the telephone lines and flying in and out of an outbuilding to see to their nests. Further down, at Bowston Bridge, I was thrilled to see a large group of house martins busy with their under-eave nests and my first swifts of the year. Sitting by the river eating our pack up we started to note down all the flowers we had been seeing; on this day we found 34 species in flower. We crossed the river into Beckmickle Ing Woods spotting dipper and grey wagtail before climbing the steep road up to Dorothy Farrar Spring Wood. Noticeable here was the tree destruction caused by last autumn's storm winds. Although the bluebells in Rather Heath Plantation were in their prime we felt that those here were past their best. They were set off perfectly, though, by wild garlic or ramsons, with its strong aroma that gives it its name, and also greater stitchwort. Leaving the wood and dropping to the road we walked first along the lane and then down fields into Stavely where the pot of tea and cheese scone in Wilf's were well-received. I went out to the terrace above the mill race where dippers were feeding chicks back in April, but today there was no sign of them. Hopefully the brood fledged successfully. By the time we had walked up out of the valley and across the fields to the caravan, I was well ready for the cold pint outside the van in the, by now, hot sun.

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Sunday, 23 May 2021

Lake District, May. Day 6

Disaster! It was closed! We were in Bowston Bridge again at the end of our walk and were hoping for some rehydration. Sadly it was not to be. We had met Thomas in the site visitors' ar park at 10.30, the plan being to walk up to Potter Tarn high on Potter Fell. Our route took us again down to Bowston, along the Dale's Way to Beckmickle Ing Wood and up the fell as far as Spring Hag wood again. The bluebells were as spectacular as ever, but rather than continuing into the wood we followed the track that climbed up the fellside soon reaching the path junction where we made our way steeply up the fell towards the tarn. We opted to stop for lunch as the weather looked threatening and we wanted to eat in the dry. The rain never really arrived though and we soon took off the waterproofs again.From our high point we could looked down on the tarn (a possible venue for a wild swim if the weather ever gets warm enough) and the wider views were expansive. From Arnside Knott and Morecambe Bay in the south our eyes were drawn to the Coniston Fells, the Old Man spotlight in the sun, and onto the Scafells, Bowfell and the Crinkles and, overhung by lowering cloud and rain,the Langdales. Nearer to us was the Kentmere Horseshoe. Below, in the valley of the River Kent, sat the market Town of Kendal. The view up Hall Beck Valley towards Kentmere was pastoral and attractive with its scattering of farmsteads. All too soon it was time to head back down to the valley and up the other side back to the site. Having failed at the brewery we jumped in Thomas's car and headed to Stavely and Wilf's for tea and cake.

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Monday, 20 April 2020

Go West Young Man

We decided to have a change today and head west over to Bradley and Dixon't Woods rather than the usual Horsefield walk. It was again a cloudless morning as I walked down to the doctor's for my warfarin blood test, Heather joining me when I had finished my appointment. We continued to the edge of the village before setting out over the fields to Bradley Gairs wood. I was looking forward to this excursion as I knew that the wood anemones had been out for a couple of weeks, bluebells were appearing and I also hoped for more early purple orchids. From this side of the village we were able to look out over the coastal marsh to the Lincolnshire Wolds. We commented that we could see a wood on one of our favourite walks in the Wolds: Stock Furlong. We love the way that we can pick this wood out from many places, including the P&O ferry when we are sailing over to Zeebrugge or Rotterdam. The bright, vivid yellow of the fields of oilseed rape could be seen dotted all the way to the Wolds.

As soon as we entered Bradley Gairs we found violets, stitchwort and swathes of bluebells; thankfully English and not Spanish. As we left the wood we were pleased to find plenty of early purple orchids. We crossed Bradley Road and wandered down the farm track for a quarter of a mile before turning right and heading towards Bradley Woods themselves. Once in Bradley we followed the perimeter path enjoying the spectacle of wood anemones, violets, stitchwort, bluebells and orchids carpeting the woodland floor.

Stopping to photograph the wood anemones we then crossed the road and continued on the perimeter path around Dixon's wood, floristically just as spectacular. I was highly delighted to come across a common male fern (Dryopteris felix-mas), having burst out of it's knuckle and the fronds beautifully unfurling. This is one of my favourite wild life photography subjects - I just think that it so beautiful. I am also fascinated by the knuckle of the fern, looking like a closed fist just before the fronds beginning to uncurl. Interestingly I wrote down relatively few birds; I think with it being so windy bird song was not so noticeable.

All too soon it was time to leave the wood and head back across the fields and home for lunch. All told we had walked 6 miles and were ready for a sit down.