Bee orchids bounce back

The meadow in the city: beyond Big Yellow Self Storage you can see one of Norwich City FC's stands.

Regular readers will know that I keep a regular eye on some bee orchids that grow outside Big Yellow Self Storage on Canary Way, opposite Norwich City FC’s football ground.

I made my regular visit to count them on 7^th June 2019. A rather gloomy day was brightened by counting 42 flowering spikes of bee orchids. Last year they’d dwindled in number to less than ten, and I feared it was the beginning of the end for them. Not so: more the end of the beginning as The Meadow in the City goes into a new phase.

In the early years, the bee orchids were on the grass opposite the football ground. Now most of them are growing around the corner. It helps that this year the Big Yellow team has organised that all the grass around two sides of the warehouse-like building has remained uncut. Credit where credit is due: there was reluctance to do this when I first broached the subject in 2009, but now I don’t even have to remind them. Even without the orchids it’s a delight: bumblebees were collecting nectar on ox-eye daisies and other flowers; birds were foraging in the vegetation.

Bee orchid Ophrys apifera.

I called in at Big Yellow reception to give the good news, where the staff kindly said that they enjoy my annual visit. As we discussed, they were in many ways ahead of the curve. Wildlife charity Plantlife was promoting No Mow May this year. The BBC’s Springwatch has its Gardenwatch project. “Precious wildlife havens in an ever increasing concrete jungle,” according to presenter Michaela Strachan, which sums up Big Yellow's meadow rather nicely. Add to this the increasing understanding of how nature helps our mental health or wellbeing and that’s a lot of boxes ticked.

As you’ll see from the photos, the bee orchids are flowering now and there are buds of flowers still to come. If you are passing Big Yellow Storage in central Norwich, do take time to look.

Bee orchids in flower and in bud.

Bee orchid in a strange setting.

Forty Years of the EU’s Birds Directive

Forty Years of the EU’s Birds Directive

In April, there was a notable anniversary for all nature conservationists. It was 40 years since the European Union’s Birds’ Directive, the first environmental legislation from the EU and still a cornerstone of nature conservation.

Semi-collared flycatcher, Crete, April 2017.

More formally this is the ‘Council Directive 2009/147/EC on the conservation of wild birds.’ It is best known for setting up a network of Special Protection Areas (SPAs, as we call them in the UK). It also gives obligations to protect and conserve habitats for 194 species and subspecies, listed under Annex 1: bitterns, pelicans, terns and many birds of prey are just a few of these; passerines are often those with restricted distribution, such as semi-collared flycatcher and trocaz pigeon.

The agreement of the ‘Birds Directive’ in April 1979 coincides with my own career in nature conservation. I arrived at the RSPB’s HQ in the second half of 1978. The UK’s nature legislation had to be improved to implement the Birds Directive. A task I was given was to mobilise letter-writing support through RSPB members in local groups, via the Society’s regional network, to lobby to maintain or improve various elements of the Wildlife and Countryside Bill, which became the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981. As well updating the previous Protection of Birds Acts, this introduced legal protection for Sites of Special Scientific Interest.

It is difficult to overstate how important for nature this has been in the last four decades. Not perfect, of course: nature has declined in the wider countryside especially, and some SSSIs have declined due to external factors like pollution, climate change and a lack of (or inappropriate) management. 

Kourtaliótiko Gorge, Crete, April 2019. A Special Protection Area (more here.)

But the big picture remains a network of protected sites. That network was reinforced further when the EU’s ‘Habitats Directive’ came in. The two nature directives work together: SPAs under the Birds Directive and Special Areas for Conservation (SACs) declared under the Habitats Directive make up the Natura 2000 network of protected areas in the EU, internationally important wildlife sites. 

The itineraries of many Honeyguide holidays include visits to Natura 2000 sites as a routine part of the holiday. Many of us have seen signs celebrating these: it’s interesting that the Natura 2000 label is used more on the continent than in the UK. Also, the EU’s ‘LIFE’ programme has funded many conservation projects often run by BirdLife partners: lammergeier, bittern, Dalmatian pelican and Egyptian vulture are examples you may have come across at home or abroad.

Plains at Santa Marta de Magasca, Extremadura, March 2019.
Part of the Natura 2000 network of internationally important wildlife sites (more here.)

Brexit or Remain for wildlife?

Here comes the political bit. What happens to this conservation legislation if/when the UK leaves the EU? We have the choice to keep it unchanged, improve it or undermine it. Widely-reported politician’s phrases like “get rid of all the green crap” make many fearful that nature protection will be weakened. This explains why most conservationists are instinctively pro-EU and pro-Remain. We (I include myself in this) take the view that nature protection should extend beyond national borders, with migrating birds the obvious example. We see the EU and its institutions as a support to nature conservation, setting common (and high) standards, a buffer and a back-stop against national governments that may make bad decisions that damage important sites for nature.

There is a coherent counter-argument that nature could benefit from Brexit: this relates to farming and the Common Agricultural Policy. The CAP has been a major factor driving agricultural intensification and wildlife losses as a result. The CAP has been resistant to change: getting agreement for major reform across so many EU countries has proved intractable. DEFRA Secretary of State Michael Gove’s ‘Green Brexit’ paper favours a big shift of subsidies away from production and into ‘public goods’ including wildlife and access. Gove isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I think he’s genuine. Fine if he stays: what if he doesn’t? The two previous DEFRA ministers were singing from the NFU’s hymn sheet.

Given where we are now, could there be half-way house that is a win-win for nature? The UK could stay aligned to the Single Market, bound by common standards of environmental protection – the Birds and Habitats Directives and other environmental directives such as on air, water and environmental assessment (plus other areas e.g. health & safety, workers’ rights). Yet outside the EU we would leave the CAP and implement wildlife-friendly farming. Too good to be true?

Beetlemania

It was an invitation too good to miss. Martin Collier, Norfolk’s beetle recorder, had heard about NWT Thorpe Marshes and was keen to visit the reserve to see what he could find. Could I show him around? Writing Christmas cards was postponed and the inevitable family conversations about beetle drives and popular beat combos from Liverpool were put to one side. It was a bright December morning when I joined Martin and recording colleague Steve Lane on the marshes.

A bright December day on NWT Thorpe Marshes.

Nemostoma bimaculata, a tiny harvestman. Bimaculata means two-spotted.

Beetle records on the reserve to date have been mostly relatively big, bright species on summer flowers. Surely an icy day in December was far from promising?  How wrong that was. The key technique was a fistful of damp marsh vegetation, often from a ditch edge, shaken through a coarse mesh sieve into a white bowl. The volume of invertebrates, once you had your eye in, was remarkable. Most were tiny: beetles of various shapes, almost microscopic harvestmen, pseudoscorpions. I photographed and noted names of bigger species; a longer list will drop into my inbox when time allows.

Paederus riparius, a rove beetle from ditch edge vegetation.

A tiny pseudoscorpion, seen in a specimen tube.

Planorbarius corneus, great ramshorn snail.

The enthusiasm was contagious and the expertise broad as they dipped into ditches, too. This revealed water beetles and the mix you’d expect from in a pond-dipping session: backswimmers, water boatmen, water slaters (like an aquatic woodlouse), snails, pea mussels and various larvae. They deduced that a big pile of earth included a moles’ nest, a place for a difference mix of bugs, including female mole fleas, Britain’s biggest flea. I looked into the bowl with interest then took a step backwards.

Tussocks of cocksfoot grass on the dry banks of the River Yare produced a different mix again, dominated by spiders. Many were immatures of familiar species, like nursery web spiders. Under one bit of bark there was a cluster of harlequin ladybirds, much as you might find in a house; under another were two red-and-black false ladybirds, fungus feeders.

False ladybird Endomychus coccineus.

  

The biologist J B S Haldane, when asked about for his take on creation vs. evolution, was fond of saying that, “God has an inordinate fondness for beetles.” Martin and Steve might plead guilty to a similar fondness. The focus here was on wetland species but I’m sure they could enthuse any naturalist about the life within your garden compost heap. The reserve will be all the richer for their records.

Steve was still sifting vegetation as the sun was dropping behind the ridge beyond the river and I went home for a very late lunch.

Martin Collier and Steve Lane: an inordinate fondness for beetles.

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Here comes the elephant (inspired by Namibia)

Here comes the elephant

For anyone missing the regular Namibia blogs, here's a little poem by Christopher Durdin, aged about 62½, inspired by elephants at waterholes in Namibia, November 2018. I had a little trouble with rhymes, which you might be able to help with (not necessarily out loud).

Here comes the elephant

Why did he stop?

Now I know why

Plop! Plop! Plop!

His name is Tiny

I know that sounds silly.

If you think his trunk’s long

Just look at his tusks.

African people

Live in huts.

Elephants break in

To steal their pizzas.

There goes the elephant

He’s done a bunk.

He’ll be back soon

He forgot his ... suitcase.

Elephant at Okaukuejo waterhole, Etosha.

Namibia, day 14 ... homeward bound

Day 14, 24 November – Walvis Bay to Johannesburg and home

With our flight at one o’clock there was time for a leisurely breakfast, packing and a final stroll along the strand alongside flamingos and large numbers of chestnut-banded plovers, or to look at common waxbills in local gardens. 

Greater flamingos close to the Strand at Walvis Bay.

Farewell to colourful Lagoon Loge

Having only one minibus available wasn’t a problem for the group as Walvis Bay airport was such a short distance away. Geoff ferried up those staying at Flamingo Villas first and was soon back at Lagoon Loge for the rest of us. We paused briefly for thousands of lesser flamingos at a former water treatment plant, a dense flock of them in the water behind a single black-necked grebe and many in the air as some people approached.

Airport in the desert, last view of Namibia (David Bennett).

Walvis Bay International is very much an airport in the desert. We had an uneventful wait there before walking to the plane for the flight to Johannesburg. In the meantime Geoff and Darrin went back to the garage in Swakopmund: repairs would take time so they returned to Cape Town in one minibus, leaving the other for the vehicle hire company to collect later. 

The group had a long wait at Johannesburg with plenty of time to walk between check-in and security areas and for shopping. The overnight flight back to the UK passed without incident and we arrived at Heathrow early on Sunday morning, 25 November.

Namibia, day 13 ... Walvis Bay and Namib Desert

23 November – Walvis Bay and Namib-Naukluft National Park

Pre-breakfast birdwatching was along the strand again, alongside early morning keep fit enthusiasts. Chestnut-banded plover was a new bird and there was a Caspian tern that many of us had missed yesterday. In the minibuses we went farther along Walvis Bay after breakfast. The large numbers of lesser flamingos in this area was quite a sight. Waders included thousands of avocets mixed with black-winged stilts, little stints alongside hundreds of curlew sandpipers and many chestnut-banded plovers, as well as those mentioned in yesterday’s account.

Lesser flamingos, Walvis Bay (Tim Hunt).

 We then drove into the Namib-Naukluft National Park: after nearly a fortnight in Namibia, in the Namib desert at last. It was hotter than the relative cool of the coast, but much less so than inland. We stopped to look at a range of flowering plants adapted to the harsh conditions, then tucked into the shade of small copse with a convenient picnic tables for the lunch Geoff had bought first thing.

The group split at this point with six going with Darrin to Swakopmund. On the edge of town, a wheel on the minibus came off. As vehicle issues go, solutions were close: a Toyota garage with a tow-truck was a few hundred metres away and a ride was quickly arranged to take the group into Swakopmund. A close harmony quartet was a highlight there.

The rest explored the desert some more, in particular to see the celebrated Welwitschias. These are odd, near-prostrate conifers that grow in the harshest of conditions with long tap roots and two odd, trailing leaves, almost solid to the touch. Their age is often measured in centuries, though there is some dispute about the oldest, perhaps 1500 years old. Visitors are directed to one area in particular, especially the biggest Welwitschia that’s behind a fence, and many are marked with a circle of stones to prevent trampling in the surface root area. Nearby we logged a range of specialist plants, including Namib hoodia and desert edelweiss; more are noted in this report’s lists.

Welwitschia mirabilis in the Namib-Naukluft National Park

We drove on to desert near Swakopmund with low, compact bushes. It took a while but we found Gray’s larks here, six in one area by the road with a tractrac shrike at the same place. We then met Darrin’s gang and somehow squeezed everyone in one minibus to return to Walvis Bay. The Lagoon Loge contingent joined the others for dinner along the road at Flamingo Villas.

Helicrysum roseo-niveum, 'desert edelweiss'.

Namibia, day 12 ... to coastal Walvis Bay

22 November – Erongo Mountains to Walvis Bay

The stone-edged pond and adjacent trees were alive with birds at breakfast time, including at least 22 rosy-faced lovebirds. 

Rosy-faced lovebirds gather near the Erongo Mountains waterhole (David Bennett)

The morning was spent travelling south and west towards the coast, with stops for fuel/coffee and to photograph wayside wild flowers near Omaruru: there must have been some rain in that area recently. These kept Sue and me puzzling over IDs (they'll be listed in the holiday report) as we travelled to the next stop, a collection of stalls selling gemstones and curios, former roadside stalls brought under one roof. Purchases were compared as we crossed the Namib Desert, the road part of a corridor of services including a railway line, water pipe and numerous wires, with several turns for the mines that are big business here.

Crotalaria argyraea (a lupin-like yellow pea) by the roadside. No, I'd never heard of it before, either.

We had lunch outside a nice café in Swakopmund, a cool sea breeze here quite a contrast with the hot interior. Our first Cape wagtail was easy to see as it walked around: there were more dozens more later. A brief drive around the town showed it to be prosperous and hints of the Germanic influence remaining here. It was a short way south then to Walvis Bay, where we were settled into two hotels within walking distance of each other opposite the strand that runs along the vast coastal lagoon. The tide was in but on the turn as we crossed the road and strip of grass: here Cape sparrows fed with the many Cape wagtails. White-fronted plovers were alongside familiar ringed plovers. A strange mammalian shape in the lagoon led to various suggestions: in fact it was a Cape fur seal. Distant greater flamingos flew across to close where we strolled as the tide receded and flocks of waders followed them in. The most numerous waders were bar-tailed godwits, plus grey plovers, sanderlings, turnstones and a few avocets. A count of 54 greenshanks was big by European standards.

Dinner was on the other side of the lagoon in The Raft, a super fish restaurant on stilts, like an end-of-pier establishment. There was one grey-headed gull with the numerous Hartlaub’s gulls; half a dozen white pelicans glided past the windows and settled on the adjacent mudflats. It felt like there was an end of holiday atmosphere as we ate, in a very positive sense. 

The Raft, Walvis Bay - a great place for the group's evening meal (Tim Hunt).