Contemplating beauty, stories and our ever-depleting natural world

Our ‘green and pleasant’ land, they call it.

Rolling, manicured hills and great expanses of cereal and grass frames our view and dominates countryside postcards. It’s all a story, fixed in place, and a chapter in the book we call ‘our heritage’.

Our identities and cultures are defined by the stories we tell ourselves. And they are just stories. In doing so, we screen out the inconvenient realities; we shroud horror in smoke and mirrors. But when you peel back the layers, you eventually get to the truth.

One such story, is the myth of beauty. For the majority of the Global North, beauty is order. Beauty is a closed door. It’s a perfectly presented steak, not the miserable existence of the cow and everything that has been polluted and destroyed just to keep it alive long enough to be exchanged for cash.  

Beauty is our green and pleasant land.

This is a land I have walked for many years now, and in my younger days I was consumed by the story. How beautiful; how idyllic; how peaceful.

Now, I walk the fields heavy with grief, as I catch barely a glimpse of life and gaze at the hedgerows, torn apart by mechanical saws.

What might it have been like to traverse these lands 200 years ago? 20,000 years ago? When we had rich woodland, and dense hedgerows, and wetlands bursting with life. We in Britain are so obsessed with heritage, and of looking backwards, but it seems we’re selective about how far back to go. Is our heritage 100 years ago, when everyone ‘knew their place’, or was it 20,000 years ago when we cared about the natural world?

Human beings are just life forms. Life usually wants to do several things. Firstly, it wants to keep living. Secondly, it wants to reproduce. Thirdly, it wants to thrive. Humans aside, every other life form that exists and has ever existed has relied on the delicate machinations of its environment. Healthy ecosystems are rooted in natural checks and balances. If an apex predator eats all of its prey to extinction, it too, will go extinct. If a mycorrhizal network is disrupted, the plants in its chain will suffer. If a single plant smothers out the rest, pollinator numbers plummet.

Let’s look at life’s three priorities.

The key difference between a human being and a gnat is brain capacity. That brain capacity has enabled creativity, invention, and agency (we may decide that reproduction is not for us, for instance). It’s also enabled destruction and havoc.

Over time, humans removed themselves from the equation of nature. We started playing with a made-up thing called money. We built factories. We consumed. In time, our priorities have shifted away from that of the rest of the natural world. What of living? What of thriving? It cannot be said that we are truly doing either, at least not without a hefty price.

We have forgotten how to thrive because we’ve severed ourselves from the very thing that enables us to. Nature is the ‘other’. Nature is ‘lesser’. Nature as a ‘nice thing’ but only background noise as we grind towards - ultimately - nothing.

We’ve been quite successful at living, but it’s been an extortionate transaction. And is it really living, when we’re just taking cues from a rulebook? ‘We are helpless’. ‘We need to buy things’. ‘We are better than nature’. ‘We are better than you’. All the world’s a big, dilapidated stage.

In elevating ourselves above everything else, we have allowed for the wanton destruction of our natural environment. We have developed Stockholm Syndrome with consumerism. Wildlife is disappearing before our eyes. We are in a narcissistic, abusive relationship with the natural world. Extract, dismantle and systematically destroy. We throw it a bone every now and then. We might plant a few trees or plants. This is well-meaning but does it just vindicate business as usual?

And business as usual is beautiful. Please, please let nothing change.

Our green and pleasant land is beautiful.

Is beauty a toxic field with dead soil kept on nitrogen life support? Is beauty a river choked with plastic and sewage? Is beauty the loss of 40m farmland birds, and a fifth of our pollinators? Is beauty the inevitable extinction of countless birds, mammals, insects and plants? A world so hot that in our lifetimes there will be millions of environmental refugees, on top of millions of others who have already been displaced due to climate or weather events?

All in the name of economic growth! A system based on a made up concept (money) that has improved one species’ quality of life to the detriment of everything else.

Our system wants to capture this and enshrine it so deeply within our existence. I can see it now, an exhibit in the heart of Number 10. You arrive as Rishi Sunak pops out to open a new coal mine. Behind a velvet rope, you notice a diorama, a rich tapestry of green. You can press a button to ‘activate economic growth’ and the scene is enveloped by drab grey, replete with tiny miserable humans. Beautiful. The British people don’t want a general election. The British people want this.

Don’t they?

‘Change is as good as the rest’, they say.

That’s underselling it.

Change is terrifying and life-changing.

But maybe change will help us truly understand what beauty is.

What hedgerow plants tell us about ecological balance

I’ve always thought that learning to recognise plants during winter is useful. It’s only really possible when herbaceous plants (green-stemmed, not woody), have got a head start in autumn. It’s a great way to recognise leaf shapes and plant structure – plus, you’ll be able to watch as it grows and flowers.

In this article, I’ll be exploring a few common species along the base of hedgerows. You’ll find out how to identify them, as well as what these species indicate in terms of the delicate balance of the natural world (or more specifically, how we’re affecting it).

A Lincolnshire hedgerow

Here’s a shot of a fairly typical hedgerow base in the Lincolnshire Wolds. It was taken at the beginning of January. As you can see, there’s a lot of green here. There are some years where in January you’re looking at largely bare earth and dead vegetation, but in 2022, due to a warm autumn, the perennial plants got a head start, before being stopped in their tracks by a cold spell in November.

It might just look like a mass of green, but there are five noteworthy plants visible in the shot here. All five of these plants are common along agricultural hedgerows.

Cleavers

The first is a cleaver (Gallium aparine). A member of the bedstraw family, this is a vigorous perennial plant with sticky stems and seeds. The plant is covered in tiny hooks – which makes it ‘stick’ to just about everything. It’s a very robust plant that can colonise all kinds of areas because it spreads so wildly, clings to other plants (out-competing them), and produces so many seeds. Cleaver isn’t particularly noted for its wildlife-friendliness, though it is a food plant for some caterpillars.

Cleaver

You can identify cleavers by the thin leaves, and square, creeping stems that soon bend as they grow and attach to just about anything. They’ll feel sticky to the touch. Mammals, birds, and dogs will unwillingly disperse this plant as the seeds attach to them easily.

Stinging and dead-nettles

The second two are nettles, but there’s a distinction. The first is the stinging nettle (Urtica diosica) and the second is the white dead-nettle (Lamium album). Despite both being ‘nettles’, they’re actually from different families. Stinging nettles are, predictably, from the nettle family (Urticaceae) whereas dead nettles are from the mint family (Lamiaceae).

Dead nettle and stinging nettle

Both of these plants are great for wildlife. The white dead-nettle in particular is very popular among long-tongued bees – it’s little wonder that some queen bumblebees nest in the base of hedgerows. It means her workers will emerge with a quick and easy source of food.

Dead-nettles are so-called because they don’t sting, and while it looks very similar to stinging nettle, there are a couple of differences. Without looking at the flowers, the most definitive difference is the stems: dead-nettles have square stems and stinging nettles have round ones. You could also try looking at the leaves. Sometimes (not always), you will find that the edges of dead-nettle leaves are slightly more rounded, whereas in stinging nettles they’re pointed.

Observing the flowers is another way. White dead-nettles have clusters of white ‘lipped’ flowers around the stem. The flowers on a stinging nettle are more subtle. They’re much, much smaller, and grow in denser clusters. They’re usually a green or off-white colour.

Stinging nettle is equally a beautiful plant. It’s a bit more vigorous than dead-nettle along these hedgerows, and of course, will sting you, but it’s the food plant for dozens of caterpillars.

Couch grass

The fourth plant is a grass widely considered to be a ‘problem’ grass because of its vigour. It’s called couch grass (Elytrigia repens). Couch grass is recognisable over other grasses due to its slightly fatter leaves, and its growth habit is distinctly clumpy. It can quickly form thick thatches and crowd out delicate plants. While it does need controlling, as with all plants it does support some wildlife, including some caterpillar species. If left to grow long enough, it may also protect insects and small mammals.

Couch grass

Cow parsley

The final plant in this picture is cow parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris). This is a common plant at the base of hedges and roadsides. It’s actually a member of the carrot family, and as such, you’ll notice the fern-like leaves are very similar to those of carrots

Cow parsley has delicate, but quickly growing leaves which kick off during late winter and early spring. It sends up spikes, at the top of which sit umbrella-like flower heads and creamy white flowers. It’s attractive to a huge number of wildlife species, from butterflies to hoverflies, and even some small mammals.

Cow parsley

Cow parsley can however be confused with some other members of the carrot family, including hemlock, which is very poisonous. So always take care when trying to identify it!

A common thread

So why are these five plants so common on hedgerows near farmland? Well, they LOVE nitrogen-rich soil. They thrive in it. Plants are sessile species (they stay in one place) but when seeds find their way into the ideal soil for the plant, they can quickly colonise the area, which is exactly what has happened in this nitrogen-heavy soil.

The soil at the base of hedgerows, particularly near farmland, is usually extremely rich in nitrogen, which helps with leaf development. The two main reasons for this are:

Management

Although there are small signs this is changing, hedgerows and their herbaceous ‘understoreys’ are managed in a way that creates constant nitrogen enrichment. When hedges and their plants are cut, the cuttings are often left behind. When this nitrogen-rich mulch decomposes nitrogen re-enters the soil, creating an endless cycle of nitrogen-rich soil. The same group of plants then grow happily, and even more vigorously as the cycle continues.  

Farming practices

Intensive agriculture practices can generate large quantities of nitrogen that leach into neighbouring soils. Nitrogen-rich fertiliser is washed into the ground and finds its way to the margins of the farmland. The excretions razing cattle like cows also enrich soils with nitrogen.

The problem

In short, human interference has caused a soil imbalance which has resulted in a loss of biodiversity.

White dead-nettle is a bit of an exception on this list. It’ll do well in nitrogen-rich soil, but may be out-competed by the stinging nettle. If things were to remain as they are, it’d be ‘survival of the fittest’ and it’s likely that of the two, stinging nettle would win out. The concept of survival of the fittest is of course a cornerstone of evolution, but interfering with that process changes things.

Countless delicate plants have lost out to this cycle of vigorous nitrogen-fuelled growth, which has severely reduced species-richness in hedgerows. It’s one of the reasons Plantlife did a report called We need to talk about Nitrogen.

Plants like garlic mustard, birds-foot trefoil, and other wildflowers don’t really stand a chance in this environment and are quickly crowded out. It’s not that any of these plants can’t thrive in nitrogen-rich soil, but some plants just thrive more. This creates an abundance of only a few species of plant, with limited wildlife value, and is one of the many reasons we’re seeing biodiversity loss.

Plants like garlic mustard can be out-competed by more vigorous, nitrogen-loving plants. Photo by Kadir Celep on Unsplash

What we need to do

Like most of our most pressing environmental issues, the reality is we should have addressed this decades ago. We need to change the way we manage our land.

Hedgerow management

We need to cut hedgerows and verges less to prevent eutrophication (over-enriching with nutrients). If plants are left to ‘exhaust’ soil nutrients, other plants might stand a chance in what would be a more level playing field. Given the chance, more delicate plants will return to our hedgerows – though planting a few wildflowers as part of a community project isn’t a bad idea either.

Fertilisers

We also need to look at the use of nitrogen fertilisers, which are commonly used in intensive agriculture as a way to add nutrients to the soil. But it’s often because the land is so intensively farmed that fertilisers are needed in the first place. With two monoculture (single variety) crops a year, regular ploughing, and chemical use, soil health is depleted, meaning potentially higher applications of fertilisers are needed. With a third of the world’s soil now ‘highly degraded’, it’s not just wildlife at serious threat here, it’s food security for humans.

Monocultures like rapeseed regularly depletes the soil of the same nutrients / Photo by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash

The ‘organic’ solution

Organic farming is one of the best ways we can restore biodiversity to our farmlands. But, it’s not straightforward. Organic farming isn’t easy – and as inferred in my previous paragraph, some farmers are working with extremely nutrient-poor soil. As a result, they rely on fertilisers to get a decent crop for their efforts. It’s easy to try and blame farmers, but the situation requires empathy, and needs to be approached holistically. But, the fact remains that intensive, non-organic agriculture is destroying habitats, accelerating climate change, and depleting soil health and biodiversity. To address the problem, we not only need to look at farming but also global consumption, and where we buy our food from.

Step the heck up, government

The government can’t have it both ways. It cannot encourage the continuation of a capitalist system based on excessive consumption and not expect to see a degradation of the land. So a clearly laid out support package for farmers to less intensively manage their land is needed. There are schemes available, such as subsidies to grow nitrogen-fixing legumes (to restore soils). But with nitrogen fertiliser use remaining relatively unchanged, the offers aren’t being taken up. Just recently, the government announced that they will pay more to farmers who protect the environment, and time will tell what the uptake will be – and even if it all makes logical sense.

Final thoughts…

This is a nebulous topic that pretty much cuts across many of the major issues we’re facing as a global society. But, I hope I’ve gone some way to demonstrate what plants can tell us about the state of the environment. We need to enrich and enhance our landscapes to create beautiful habitats for wildlife otherwise we face our land being dominated by a few vigorous species. As a result, we face a future with diminished wildlife, which has far-reaching implications for humanity.

If you’d like to help, I’d always recommend getting in touch with your local council and understanding their environmental strategies, joining an environmental group, and – if you can – volunteering for community planting projects (or starting your own!)

All good wishes,

Lewis

Nature connectedness part two: working with winter

It’s happening again; the piercing cold nights and the fleeting daylight. All is seemingly quiet in the natural world. Many of us feel pulled under by the pervasive feeling of loss and of mourning. Those balmy summer evenings and the vivacious dawn chorus feel a lifetime ago.

Winter is a difficult time for many people – it can take a physical and mental toll as we muddle through short days, struggling to get ourselves going in the morning, and flagging as darkness descends again in the late afternoon. But the natural world can help. Connecting with nature during winter helps us re-frame these treacherous months and maybe even helps us emerge with a greater appreciation of it.

Ways of thinking

There’s a lot we can reframe about winter to help us navigate it. For example, where one might think “these parks and fields are bereft of life”, explore a little longer. Look out for robins, flocks of chaffinches, and winter-flowering plants. Crucially, consider yourself as life.

If you look sadly at the bare, seemingly lifeless trees, consider another view: the trees are resting and conserving energy ready to be their best self when the time is right.

Winter can feel lifeless - but there’s plenty of life about. Including you!

You might think, “all I can see is death and decay” as you stare at the brown and grey leaves. But nothing really dies, not really. Leaves, insects, mammals – we’re all made of the same stuff. When things die, they break down into nutrients and minerals – just a different arrangement. The constituents of a dead leaf will feed its nearest tree. Death isn’t the end of life, it facilitates more life.

The darkness

We struggle with the darkness too. Days in December reach a paltry 7 hours and 50 minutes as we emerge from our beds in darkness and then finish work in darkness. The low light can have an impact on us physically as well as mentally – not least because the winter sun is less intense so isn’t as good a source of Vitamin D and serotonin. Vitamin D is useful for the maintenance of healthy joints and bones. A lack of both serotonin and vitamin D can also trigger depression and low mood.

There are several things we can learn from nature about low light. Firstly, trees and plants are exceptionally good at making the most out of sunlight. At a cellular level, most leaves are simply built to maximise energy generation from sunlight. And so nature reminds us to make the most of the great outdoors and life-giving sunlight during spring and summer (with adequate sun protection of course).

Secondly, the lack of light is an important trigger for swathes of the natural world, like trees and birds. It’s one of the best indicators that it’s time to rest. Time to stop. Time to hide away for a while and exercise self-care. Perhaps we should take Christmas a bit steadier this year?

The pervasive darkness can be hard during winter

Finally, it might be low light, but it’s not no light. As we’ve already touched upon, some plants happily flower during winter (after having spent summer and autumn preparing for it). And let’s not forget the moon! We can get lost in the gloom of the darkness, but pockets of light and life remain.

We think of winter as a cruel, harsh season. But some birds actually migrate to British shores from Scandinavia and Russia to benefit from our relatively milder weather. While, to us, it might feel cold and dark outside, for birds like redwings and fieldfares, it’s just right. And so, we can practise gratitude and humility.

Resilience

During winter, the natural world also teaches us about resilience and about the cyclical nature of life. Half way through the winter, as we emerge the other side of Christmas, fresh and verdant shoots burst forth from frozen leaf litter. These are snowdrops, and will soon be followed by winter aconites, lesser celandines and crocuses. It’s a new beginning, again.

You can look out for emerging winter and spring plants in parks, gardens, along hedgerows, verges and banks.

Crocuses peaking through the soil in my garden (taken Jan 2022)

Winter as necessary

A final point to consider is the function that winter serves as part of a complete year. Again, we can draw from the natural world here – in particular, plants.

By and large, plants are intrinsically connected with seasons. Their survival is often dependent on timing and they have adapted to carefully control and ration their energies as a result. Plants work on cycles.  

Consider perennial plants, which grow leaves, flower, and then in winter die back to the base and become dormant, ready for spring. If they were to continue flowering, their energy stores would run out and they would die. The winter allows them to spring back, year after year.

Winter afford plants time to rest - which they need. Plus, it’s quite beautiful!

Also consider annual plants, which grow, flower, set seed and then die - all in one year. These plants rely on the setting of seeds in order to multiply, and many of these seeds need the winter in order to germinate.

Many seeds need a period of winter for one or both of two reasons: to soften their shells, and to give them a barometer for when it’s time to sprout. And so, winter is a necessary, important time. Even if it makes us vulnerable, it gives meaning and purpose to spring, summer and autumn.

A clarification

I have found, first hand, that nature connectedness can be an extremely effective way to combat a wide range of demons. When I write these articles, I’m keen to share the insight that I have gained and researched over the years and demonstrate how nature connectedness can work in real terms.

However, the process of healing and self-soothing in light of mental health struggles is not a straight line. I have come to believe that healing pursuits like therapy, medication, meditation, exercise, creative expression or – nature connectedness – individually, they may not necessarily be your complete solution. But they are components of a toolbox, and you can select which tool you need as and when you need it.

Connecting with and building a relationship with the natural world is a unique tool, because it is totally external to the human narrative, to human noise. It’s a way for us to draw from a community of life that has tried and tested survival techniques for millions of years.

This winter

If you’re struggling this winter, know that you’re not alone. In the hope that it might help, I leave you with a gentle nudge to consider the following:

1. For most of the natural world, winter means rest and self-care. Keep warm, eat well, and rest as much as you can.

2. Short days are tough, but it’s all a cycle.  

3. The winter isn’t all about darkness. Like winter flowering cherries, snowdrops and fieldfares, make the most of that low, bright winter sun and pale blue sky.

4. Life doesn’t stop in winter. Life is everywhere. You are life.

5. Hold on. Like the trees in spring, your sap will rise again.

Creating a wildflower meadow: part three

As summer fades into autumn, it felt like a good time to reflect on what’s been happening in the wildlife garden this year. It’s been another year of learning so much, and of satisfaction and joy, and of course of the occasional disappointment! I thought I’d start with the wildflower meadow however, which has been amazing this year.

As a recap: In 2020 I created mounds of subsoil, sand, gravel and a little topsoil – all of which was just substrate I had extracted to make the wildlife pond. I then sowed a load of wildflower seeds on the mounds so as to create a sort of hilly meadow. I ended up writing a piece about this in spring 2021, and then a follow up later in the year.

Now that we’re in 2022, the meadow is about a year and a half old – it’s had two growth seasons though.

This year, the meadow truly ‘took off’. It still feels as though it’s in its infancy, but this past summer was the first year it really filled out. As I watched it grow thick, and tall, it was hard not to be filled with a real sense of gratification (although in truth, I was delighted with it last year too!)

The seed mix

The seeds I sowed back in 2021 were sourced from British Wildflower Meadow Seeds. I chose a mix suited to calcareous (chalky, alkaline) soils which had been collected from meadows in Wiltshire and Somerset. I deliberately chose perennial plants (rather than annuals) as I wanted some element of predictability, and I didn’t want to be too hands-on or have to worry about everything seeding around. For those who aren’t sure, perennial plants generally die back to its base at the end of the growing season and then burst into life again in spring. Annuals on the other hand flower only once, before dying – so you either need to re-sow year after year, or ensure that the plants set seed and scatter those.

As I mentioned in previous articles, wildflowers don’t need rich, fertile soil; in fact it’s better to plant them in poorer soils where they won’t have to compete with other vigorous plants and grasses such as nettles, docks and couch grass. Ideally they need a West- or East-facing aspect so they get plenty of sun, however.

Earlier in spring, the meadow was dominated by ribwort plantain and red campion

Lush with life

By June this year, the meadow reached its peak lushness: tall meadow grasses, beautiful ox-eye daisies and meadow sage created height, peppered with lush clusters of yellow from the birds-foot trefoil and black medick, and the vibrant purple of knapweed. Prior to that, it full of red campion and ribwort plantain, and after that, the wild carrot took over and blended wonderfully with the last of the ox-eye daisies, giving a delicate, lace-like character to the meadow.

In the afternoon, the meadow was alive with insects: butterflies, hoverflies and bees, as well as craneflies, dozens of different beetles, and so, so many others that I wasn’t able to identify. In the evening, stop-out bees were relieved of their shift by moths who took a particular liking to the white campion, as well as the ox-eye daisies. I’ve also spotted countless frogs of all sizes sheltering from the blistering sun in the long, dense vegetation.

A cinnabar moth visits the ribwort plantain

I’ve never wanted to overly manage the meadow – in fact in most cases, wildlife gardening usually means doing less, not more. So I gave it a gentle cut (manually, with shears) over about a four week period. This has meant that I’ve interfered with the resident wildlife as little as possible, and cutting before September has also meant that some of the plants have flowered again – a real treat for us, and important early-autumn nectar for insects too.

Extending a hand to nature

The meadow has been a first-hand reminder of just how important meadows are for swathes of wildlife. The meadow in our garden is about 4m squared give-or-take, and if it can be home to that much life – plant, insect, amphibian, then imagine what we could do if we set to restoring the 97% of wildflower meadows that we’ve lost since 1930. The reality is, pockets of wildlife-friendly green space can only ever be so effective. We need wildflower meadows in every village, every town, and every city. It’s about time local councils and government stopped banging on about how important biodiversity is was and actually started doing some meaningful work with communities to help. Without flower-rich spaces, we lose not only the joy of our favourite insect visitors, but also we lose insects – and a life without insects (an eventuality we seem to enjoy toying with at the moment), is not a life we want.  

It was hard to get an image of the whole meadow! Here it is in July.

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Thanks for reading! I do post a little more regularly on Instagram, if you wanted to check that out. In between work and family time, it’s not always easy to keep up with online activity, but I can tell everyone with absolute conviction: creating habitats for wildlife is one of the single most important things I have ever done - not just for my own sanity, but because it’s the least I can do. I may not be posting about it all the time, but it’s always in my mind and - where possible - in my actions.

Nature connectedness part one: acknowledging nature

The natural world that exists in and around our pre-occupied lives is beautiful, astonishing and complex arena.

In this series of short writings I wanted to explore what we can do to physically and mentally bring ourselves a little closer to the natural world, and why it can be beneficial to our physical and mental state. In other words, I’m exploring what is referred to commonly as nature connectedness, and to start with, I’m going to try and lay out a really good way to get started with it if you’re curious.

Nature connectedness and mental health

Many human beings have become detached from wild and natural spaces. Some may do so by choice, and others may not realise just how detached they are. As we navigate our daily lives, we may often only engage with the natural world on a surface level – perhaps casually noticing a bird singing, or hearing the wind in the trees. Some of us may barely notice these windows into the living and breathing world at all.

Indeed, it is no surprise that we tend to be more in-tune with nature and landscapes when on holiday; these are times when we feel we have more mental space to take it all in.

But, we can develop a more meaningful relationship with nature than that, and given that we live in a time where mental health across our planet is in decline, there has never been a better time to do it. From a mental health perspective, in England alone, we’re at a crisis point, but mental illness is common in many consumerist societies, from the US to Australia to China.

At the same time, more and more studies, books and publications are emerging with empirical and case-study driven evidence which indicates that nature-connectedness can improve mental health and combat mental illnesses such as generalised anxiety, depression and more.

Connecting with our surroundings can have miraculous effects on our view of the world

But how do we do this? How do we become connected to nature? To my mind there are no hard and fast rules. People can connect with nature in many, many different ways – and nature-connectedness doesn’t necessarily mean going on a course, or going forest bathing or tree hugging (though many do find these activities beneficial).

If you’re interested in trying to connect a little more with the natural world, I would suggest starting with something that might seem obvious: just starting to acknowledge it. This is the root of nature connectedness, and was subconsciously my own starting point.

Acknowledging nature

Acknowledging nature sounds so simple, and so obvious. It may even sound patronising. But it’s not something that many of us acutely do. For many of us, the concept of ‘outside’ is simply a void that separates point A from point B. As we travel between places (whether in vehicles or on foot or bicycle), we may absentmindedly gaze at trees, bushes, rivers and rabbits. We may casually notice birds, bees or plants. But the level at which we actually acknowledge and engage with it is a different matter.

Humanity has spent the vast majority of its existence connected to nature, and so it stacks that our superficial relationship with it now might be having a negative impact on our wellbeing.

So, on a morning walk or commute, or trip to the shops, or even just a look out of your window, pick out a feature of the natural world. This can be done in the most urban areas. Some examples:

• A bird: What does it sound like? What does it look like? What kind of bird is it? Google it if you’re not sure.

• A tree or plant: What does it look like? Is it bare? What colour and shape are the leaves? Again, try and ID it if you can. This could even be a plant growing out of a crack in the pavement.

• A waterway: What kind of waterway is it? A river, a canal, a stream? What’s the waterway called? Check on Google Maps (or similar) if you’re not sure. Is there any visible wildlife?

This beck connects to the River Rase in Tealby, and it’s one of the first waterways I fell in love with.

Regardless of what you choose, once you do this, an invisible thread now connects you and the natural feature. If you pass or acknowledge it regularly, you’ll be able to see how it changes, grows, and behaves in different circumstances. If it’s a bird, you may notice that it’s more active at certain times of the day or year; if it’s a tree, it may come into flower at a certain time, or drop its leaves – and so on. This is the basis of nature connectedness - acknowledging and forming a meaningful connection with nature.

The start of a journey

Acknowledging nature in this way can have a rapid cumulative effect – in other words, the more you notice, the more you notice! More trees, more birds, more plants, more things to identify, more things that live and exist alongside you. These things weather storms, just like us. They grow and change, just like us. In time, you may even find yourself rooting for these living things. You may even become sad if or when it disappears.

What’s more, the existence of the seasons means that the landscape changes, a lot. The sights, sounds and smells of the natural world fluctuate throughout the year, and as you start to acknowledge and form bonds with the natural world you may even find yourself connecting with the rhythms of nature too – but more on that in a future piece.

Sometimes we practise nature connectedness and don’t even realise it - for example looking forward to (and then enjoying) the fleeting springtime blossoms.

You’ll notice that where it’s something living, I’ve recommended that you try and identify it. There are loads of great ways to ID plants and animals thanks to the internet. If you manage to ID what you’re looking at then something changes. You’ve formed a bond with it. You know what it is. It’s not just background noise – it’s a living thing that shares your world.

In time, this practise of acknowledging the natural world brings you much, much closer to it. You may start to feel like you have a stake in it. As we bridge that gap between ourselves and nature, it helps place us on the same playing field as everything else. It helps us to realise that we share our world with so much life, and with that can come peace and contentedness. I’m one of the many case-studies on this.

Acknowledging nature, and nature connectedness as a whole, is not a miracle cure for mental illness. But what it can do, is help us re-frame what’s important, and it can help us derive joy and peace out of the smallest things. It can be an immensely pure exersise in mindfulness and meditation. Have you ever got lost staring at the ripples of a lake, or a butterfly, or a bird? You’re essentially meditating on nature, and for even just a short while you’re linking arms with it and pulled away from the stress of modern life.

As always, I’m grateful to you for taking some time out to read my thoughts. I’ve suffered from anxiety and depression over half my life, and I can say without question that initialising (and then building on) my connection to nature has been the single most powerful thing I have done to address it.

I hope this has been a little helpful for anyone interested in the whole idea of nature-connectedness, now an extremely popular topic. There are so many other ways we can connect with the natural world too, and I’ll cover those in future articles. In the meantime, happy exploring and sending warm, gentle vibes your way.

Wildlife garden update - September 2021

It’s September, the cusp of seasonal change. Here’s an update, which features new visitors and new habitats, plus the pond makes a special guest appearance (again).

The garden is wild at the moment; grasses are long, plants are setting seed and there’s vegetation everywhere! That said, I wouldn’t have it any other way. My interpretation of a wildlife garden is to give plants space and time to fulfil their whole lives – for them, and for the ecosystem. That means letting them grow, flower and set seed.

This time of year is particularly crucial for wildlife. Insects, mammals and birds are foraging food to store or build up fat in readiness for Winter. Some are looking for places to hibernate, or to mate and lay eggs. Bees and other pollinators are on the wing still, looking for nectar and pollen to take back to their nests or hives.

To give wildlife a helping hand, a ‘wild’ garden just the ticket. They need long vegetation for shelter and plenty of undisturbed areas of the garden for hibernation and nesting. A mix of wet and dry areas is also great. Some creatures like birds need access to a diversity of berries, nuts and seeds -  the latter being all the more reason to let your flowerheads set seed. Seed heads might not look conventionally ‘pretty’, but they serve a vital purpose for other life.

 So, let’s go!

Brash Pile

The brash pile (background) makes a great addition to a wildlife garden

The first piece I ever wrote on Gentle Waves was about a log pile, which I made several months ago now. These are really easy way to attract all kinds of beneficial creatures to your garden. Plus, as the wood decomposes, the habitat will only become richer as fungi and other bacteria move in.

I’ve seen loads of different beetles, spiders, snails, slugs and worms in and about the log pile. It’s also been colonised by at least two different slime moulds (which might not sound pleasant, but they’re fascinating). Snails and slugs might be a common sight in the garden, but as they’re feeding on the dead leaves and wood, they’re being diverted away from some of the plants I don’t want them on, so it’s win-win. They also provide a tasty snack for frogs and toads, both of which I’ve also seen multiple times in the log pile.

A Southern Hawker dragonfly laying eggs on the log pile (blurry, sorry!)

So, with all this in mind, I’ve decided to build a second stack just behind it. This isn’t as ‘set in’ to the ground as the log pile and is using mostly larger branches from the cherry tree and lilac that I recently cut back. This would make it more like a brash pile (basically a log pile but with waste branches and twigs instead of thicker logs). The branches are set on a flattened piece of cardboard, which will deter weeds, keep the moisture in the soil beneath, and slowly rot down. I’ll also throw on some Autumn leaves, as well as moss from in and around the pond – it all helps to create a rich habitat like you might see in ancient woodland.

A Bay Tree

The gift of a Bay Tree is a nice one!

We’ve been gifted this by our family next door. It’s growing in a broken pot, so is struggling a bit, and will benefit from being planted in the ground. Bay isn’t really known for being a great wildlife plant, but it will provide us with fragrant leaves to use in our cooking (you can use bay leaves fresh or dried).

Bay is best planted in a sunny position and likes free-draining soil (both of these features of its native region, the Mediterranean). So, you don’t need to fret about watering too much and it certainly doesn’t need a nutrient-rich soil. I’ll be popping this in the subsoil surrounding the pond, and it’ll be facing a South-Westerly direction, which means it’ll get loads of sun.

A Difficult Decision

Making a start in ‘ringing’ or ‘girdling’ the Weeping Cherry tree. The upright trunk can be seen just to the left - note the difference in bark.

This is an interesting one.

We have an ornamental cherry tree in our garden, but technically it’s two trees. The intended specimen, a double-flowering weeping variety, was grafted onto the rootstock of a more common, upright ornamental cherry. Over the years however, the upright has produced a ‘sucker’ which has become a large, forked trunk. This poses a problem; namely that the upright is likely to ‘kill off’ the weeping variety if I leave the trees to their own devices, but also neither tree will be able to thrive while they are competing for resources.

The weeping cherry had noticeably started to struggle, with sickly leaves and a very poor show of flowers.

Therefore, I had a decision to make, but decided to look at it as an opportunity. I decided to intervene and ‘kill’ the weeping cherry by cutting it right back and chipping a ‘ring’ around the bark which hinders nutrient exchange between the top of the tree and the roots. The reason I chose to kill the weeping cherry rather than the upright is twofold: Firstly, it was struggling anyway, and secondly, it produces double flowers which has virtually no wildlife benefit.

In killing the weeping cherry (but not cutting it down), I’m essentially creating a ‘snag’, which is standing dead wood. You may have seen something like this while out in the woods. Standing dead wood can become a rich and diverse habitat; it is colonised by fungi, moss and lichens, and solitary bees and wasps, as well as beetles, birds and small mammals are also able to use it as their home. In short, they’re great!

I’ll also plant some native honeysuckle around the base of the tree, so that it can scramble up the dead wood and improve the aesthetic slightly, although honestly, I’m very much not fussed about aesthetic!

So, I’m hopefully turning a difficult situation round; killing a tree goes against my being but I think on this occasion, it may be help facilitate more life than it is now. Watch this space.

The Pond

The pond, September 2021

The pond is definitely looking wild at the moment. Some vegetation has died off, other areas are looking lush. The marsh marigold is long gone, and the flag irises have set seed. The marsh cinquefoil is looking lush. Blanketweed has returned (a form of string algae), due to the warm, humid weather. The lobelia I planted has finally flowered a bright crimson.

In terms of the submerged plants, the willow moss has gone absolutely wild this year so it will need a little thinning out in Autumn. I tried this a few weeks ago, but pulling even small clumps out I noticed literally dozens of larvae and water beetles clinging on – Summer is not the best time for pond maintenance, so generally you want to avoid interfering if you can. The hornwort has done okay, but has been overshadowed by the willow moss. We had a great display of waterlilies in early Summer, and since then we’ve had a consistent amount of pads.

Recent visitors to the pond include a common smooth newt, which was incredibly exciting to see. I’ve only seen the one, but it’s a start. It was also home to numerous young common frogs and toads, both of which I still occasionally see either in the pond or in the shaded marsh area or log pile. Finally, this year the pond has a new guest – the great diving beetle. This gigantic, fierce creature is about 1.5 inches long and appears at night, where it hunts its prey.

The central island has come on really well. This time last year I planted various varieties of creeping thyme to help cover up the liner, but also to provide a great source of nectar for pollinators. They’re growing nicely, as you can see in the image.

The marsh next to the pond is also looking very wild! It’s very difficult to access for maintenance now which is probably a good thing as I want it to develop on its own. The only time I’ll really do much with it is well into Winter when I’ll cut the perennials back towards the base. The dead stems will go onto the brash pile to decompose and help build the ecosystem there.

Marshes are great if you’ve got a waterlogged area of the garden – common in areas where clay soil is abundant. Chives absolutely love wet soil, so be sure to plant some if you do have such an area, and like chives!

The Three Giants

The three giant sunflowers, (the third is facing away in the background)

These three giant sunflowers were a pleasant surprise – I didn’t sow them, they grew from seed set from the giants last year.

The tallest (which has just past its best) measured around 3m in height and I’m really glad we got them. They’ve been an absolute magnet for bumblebees and hoverflies (sometimes the bumblebees even sleep on the flowers overnight).

Again, sunflowers might not look at their prettiest when their heads hang and they start to die, but its at this time that they produce seed which birds will love, so do keep them standing as long as you can.

Wildflower Mounds

Vipers Bugloss is an incredibly good bee plant (this is the ‘Blue Bedder’ cultivar), still in flower on the mound

It’s not been long since I last posted about this, so there isn’t much to update.

I’ve been keeping on top of some of the more aggressive plants (nettles, thistles) and we’ve had a stunning show of oxeye daisies all summer long. The viper’s bugloss has also been really long flowering, and the bees have loved it. Some native grasses are poking through, along with some red clover.

As I said in the last article, I’ll not be interfering with the mounds much at all until well into Autumn, when I’ll cut the vegetation back a bit, let the seeds scatter, and then compost the stems. I’m also doing another sowing of pollinator friendly flowers in Autumn, to fill in the gaps and give the more aggressive weeds more competition.

I really can’t wait to see how this develops over the years.

Seed Collecting Begins

Seeds collected from an ornamental onion plant, which flowered in the Spring.

This is a first for me this year, but in the spirit of laughing in the face of capitalism, I’m really trying to get to grips with propagating plants for free. So far I’ve collected the seeds of some straw foxglove, meadow sage as well as some beautiful ornamental onion.

If you’re interested in collecting and storing seeds, there are loads of great guides online. The best thing to do is search the plant of the seeds you want to collect, and find the best time to do it. In most cases, you’ll need to fully dry the seed head, shake the seeds out and then place in a paper envelope with silica gel (or similar, to prevent moisture). They can then be stored in a cold place such as a fridge, ready for sowing at a later time - although some seeds are best sown right away.

Creating a wildflower meadow: part two

A while ago I wrote a blog called “Mound and Vision”, which marked the start of a brand-new project in the garden – turning mounds of old subsoil, sand and gravel into a mini-wildflower meadow.

As I said in the beginning of that article, this kind of project, like many things in life, requires patience. Lifestyle blogs often cover the entirety of a project all in one post, and I sometimes find that quite overwhelming. It doesn’t give you a true idea of timescale, and it takes away the element of surprise. What it does give you is a stick to measure your own project against, which can be demotivating. I also just think showing a project over multiple posts over an extended period of time is more… real.

I’ve been shocked with how quickly the mini-meadow I prepared has established itself, considering I sowed the seeds in Spring! It’s generally considered better to sow wildflower seeds in Autumn. The mounds have needed some maintenance – Greater Willowherb, Sow Thistle, Creeping Thistle and Nipplewort (chuckle) are all lovely, but they grow in abundance in the area so I’ve had to keep on top of these to ensure that the seeds I sowed had half a chance.

A similar view to a shot in my previous blog Mound and Vision

In just a few short months, the mounds are full of life. I’ve seen all kinds of creatures use it, and lot of different types of those creatures too: butterflies, moths, bees, flies, hoverflies, wasps, dragonflies, birds, beetles, spiders and even the odd frog. They’re using the wildflower meadow for for food, materials and/or shelter.

From a flowering point of view, the Ox-eye Daisy has been particularly successful, but not far behind has been the Ribwort Plantain, Black Medick, Purple Toadflax and various Trefoils. There are also four Viper’s Bugloss plants (one of the best plants for pollinators), and a couple of Cornflowers too, as well as some Clovers on their way. I planted out some Meadow Sage and Anise Hyssop which I grew separately in pots. Finally, there are various different types of grasses emerging and all kinds of different foliage that I don’t recognise yet.

So, in a nutshell, it’s actually flourished far more than I thought. You can check my previous post for more on how I actually went about preparing the mounds and sowing, but I’m honestly learning as I go!

Anise Hyssop in the foreground, and Ox-eye Daisies and Cornflower in the background

The Next Steps…

I will be keeping on top of the Thistles and other more aggressive plants over the next couple of months, and will leave everything else to establish, flower, and go to seed.

After the seed heads are ripe (they usually turn brown) I’ll wait a further few weeks to give birds and other creatures access to them, before cutting back some of the longer vegetation. Finally, in Autumn, I’ve decided to do another sowing of wildflower seed. This will hopefully give the more aggressive ‘weeds’ more competition come Springtime.  

The Importance of Wildflowers…

Like so many other beneficial elements of our ecosystem, wildflowers are in serious decline. In fact, we’ve lost 97% of our meadows since the 1930’s. This is an unnerving fact, almost entirely the result of human activity.

Red Campion, Clover and Vetch grown on the edge of agricultural land in Lincolnshire

Wildflowers are sometimes still grown on a large scale on agricultural land, but only occasionally is this primarily for the benefit of the ecosystem. Instead, often nitrogen fixing leguminous plants such as Clover and Vetch are grown, which make ideal ‘forage crops’ i.e. food for cattle. It’s astonishing how much land, energy and resources we use just to keep up with the colossal human demand for animal products. In most cases nowadays, the only large scale meadows left are those in protected nature reserves (such as The Wildlife Trusts) or planted by volunteers in local communities.

On a more individual level, the wildflower meadow aesthetic tends not to be favoured by many traditional gardeners - who opt for neatly kept lawns and weed-free beds (indeed, many wildflowers are considered weeds!)

Wildflowers challenge the ‘'neat and tidy’ aesthetic in quite a few ways: firstly, many varieties self-seed freely which means they can spread easily and compete with neatly cultivated garden favourites. Secondly, to help maximise the wildlife benefit of wildflowers (and most flowers), it’s important to keep the flower on the plant, even after it’s stopped looking ‘attractive’, so that it can produce seeds. This is, after all, why plants produce flowers in the first place. However, many gardeners opt to “deadhead” flowers to encourage additional blooms, which sometimes can be of benefit to pollinators, but our desire to see more flowers prevents the plant from doing what it wants to do, and potentially deprives other creatures of food going into the Autumn and Winter. Finally, some gardeners simply do not like how seed heads look, so once a plant has finished flowering, the plant may simply be removed or swiftly chopped back to its base.

This loss of wildflower and wildflower meadow needs talking about. The wildlife benefit of an organically managed meadow (even if just a small bed in the garden) is irrefutable. Most wildflowers that are native to the UK (and that includes native grasses too), facilitate an extraordinary amount of biodiversity, for the majority of the year.

Field Scabious, a beautiful wildflower and incredibly attractive to pollinators

The nectar and pollen-rich flowers (which wildflowers usually produce in abundance) are hugely attractive to loads of pollinating insects: bees, hoverflies, flies, wasps, midges, butterflies and moths. The seed heads provide food for birds and small mammals, and the leaves provide food for grubs such as caterpillars. The grasses and stems are an ideal habitat for spiders, grasshoppers and crickets (and depending on where you are, amphibians too) – and ground-nesting birds and small animals such as field mice may also decide to make their home among the long vegetation.

Sustaining this profusion of life helps to make a positive impact on the health and vigour of the local ecosystem – something we are all part of.. Pollinators are hugely important for crop production (and therefore the human race), but also themselves provide food for other insects, birds and bats. The birds that the meadows attract eat the seeds, which helps disperse them. Birds also eat small insects that could be considered pests. Amphibians while hidden in the vegetation eat flies as well as other species that, if not controlled, can become destructive, such as slugs and snails. In other words, having a wildflower meadow in the garden can be an excellent natural pest controller.

On top of all of this, the established root system of a wildflower meadow can help improve soil structure. Topsoil is the rich, fertile top layer of soil that is responsible for sustaining an immeasurable amount of life, both on a microscopic and macroscopic level. We are losing billions of tonnes of topsoil every year as a result of erosion, deforestation and other human-centric land activity. 95% of the world’s food is grown in topsoil. We need to look after it.

Finally, wildflower meadows are also incredibly beautiful and after a few years will pretty much look after themselves with no real need for maintenance, and so are both effort and cost-effective, saving yearly trips to the garden centre for overpriced plants.

It’s so hard not to move onto other tangents when we’re talking about life like this. That said, my mantra is that the changes I want to see in the world have to start with me taking action, in whatever capacity I’m able – and that’s really why this blog exists. For those that do have a spare bed, border, patch of land or even a couple of pots, I’d really recommend sowing some wildflower seed. I can’t think of many greater feelings than extending a hand to the creatures around us and creating a home, food and shelter for them, and really, it’s the least we can do.

8 brilliant British 'weeds'

Weeds are an enigmatic concept, and talking about what they represent in a single blog post is very ambitious, because it’s such a nebulous topic. So, with that in mind, consider this piece part one of many!

To start with the ultimate cliche, Webster’s definition of a weed is:

A plant that is not valued where it is growing and is usually of vigorous growth; especially one that tends to overgrow or choke out more desirable plants.

So, excusing the pun, the idea of a ‘weed’ is rooted in the idea of aesthetic desirability – they are seen to damage the look of where they grow, and they are seen to hinder the growth of more desirable plants. The question to ask though is, how did we conclude what is and isn’t desirable? What framework do we use? The answer to this question is long and winding and I’m looking forward to researching more.

Over the years, gardens have become hugely important historical constructs, and are synonymous with human artistic expression – whether that be of form, colour, shape, structure or just status. Nowadays, our own gardens share some of those parallels; as a general rule we tend to opt for a sweet spot between aesthetic and practicality; in short - they must suit us - our lives and our tastes.

My view however, is that gardens can be part of our collective landscape, part of a wider network of life that surrounds us. I think humans, as a species that takes so much from the planet, should try and give back to the ecosystem in which we all live. I find there is a great solace to be found in our mortality provided we feel as though we have done what we can to make our little patch of the planet as wildlife-friendly as possible for generations to come; it sets a precedent and it lays a foundation for life.

But, we often get caught up in the idea of aesthetic, and a big part of how we cultivate our gardens involves ‘weeding’, the removal of undesirable plants. The problem with the whole concept of weeds is several-fold. For one, the term ‘weed’ totally subjective! But also, by hastily removing weeds from our gardens, we are potentially starving a profusion of wildlife of vital habitats, shelter and food. In its place, we often choose to protect our cultivated varieties of plant i.e. the things we’ve planted, and sometimes looks can be deceiving when it comes to wildlife value.

What I thought I’d do for this blog is go through a short list of some of the plants that are considered weeds in the UK. I used a pest control and lawn care website as a reference for this. With each ‘weed’, I’ve listed some of the main ‘negatives’, followed by their potential functions to wildlife (and us). It follows that not only are ‘weeds’ often incredibly beautiful, but more importantly than this they sustain a host of life. So let’s dive in:

1.       Thistle

A huge family of plants mostly in the Asteraceae genus, notorious for its spines. Creeping Thistle is perhaps the most common where I am.

NEGATIVES: Spiky, prolific self-seeder, fast growing

BENEFITS: Rich in nectar; very attractive to bees and other pollinating insects; prolific producer of seeds for wintering birds and small mammals; food plant for butterflies; taproot and stems of many varieties are edible and nutrient rich

2.   Ragwort

Common in waste ground, Ragwort is a prolific grower and is rather maligned.

NEGATIVES: Fast growing, easily spreads, mild toxicity to horses, can be a skin irritant

BENEFITS: 35 insect species totally rely on ragwort for food; over 80 regularly use it for food; a significant source of nectar for bees and butterflies (7th most important nectar producing flower)

3.       Stinging Nettle

The old classic, nettles are found all over the country but are particularly prevalent in nitrogen-rich soils, such as in hedgerows at the edge of agricultural land.

NEGATIVES: Stings, spreads easily

BENEFITS: Delicious edible alternative to spinach; food plant for butterflies and moths; seeds for birds; attracts aphids for ladybirds (and attracting ladybirds is great for natural pest control)

4.       Dandelions

Throughout Spring, this common yellow flowering plant is found on lawns and on verges.

NEGATIVES: Spreads easily, challenges neat lawns

BENEFITS: Roots, leaves and petals all edible and nutritious; vital early source of nectar for bees and hoverflies; food plant for beetles and butterflies; seed for birds

5.       White/Red Clover

Prolific grower and favoured by some farmers as a forage crop for cattle.

NEGATIVES: Spreads easily, challenges neat lawns

BENEFITS: Food plant for butterflies, pollen and nectar for pollinators, leaves are nesting materials for small rodents, fixes nitrogen from the air (and so increases soil fertility and makes nitrogen available to other plants, which is beneficial to many of them)

6.       Dock

Perhaps most renowned for being the unofficial cure for nettle stings, there are many different varieties of dock and they are often found in waste ground.

NEGATIVES: Spreads easily, vigorous grower

BENEFITS: Soil improver (prevents compaction, shelters from erosion and returns nutrients to soil), parts are edible, food plant for butterflies

7.       Common Daisy

Often joins Dandelions in colonising lawns, carpeting them in shades of off-white and yellow.

NEGATIVES: Spreads easily, challenges neat lawns

BENEFITS: Nectar and pollen for small solitary pollinators and beetles

8.       Lesser Celandine

One of the earliest plants to bloom in the Spring, Celandine is grown by gardeners but in many circles it is seen as a pest and/or weed.

NEGATIVES: Spreads easily

BENEFITS: Vitally important early source of nectar for early bumblebees and other pollinators.

Serendipitously, each of the eight plants named above carry their own visual beauty - from the vivid and complex pink-purple flowers of the Thistle, to the lush verdant Nettle, to the carpet of yellow from the Lesser Celandine.

Of course, I appreciate that I might be sounding a little bit Hello birds! Hello Bees! with this article, and I’m certainly not suggesting that these types of vigorous plants don’t need some level of control. However, as with most things, moderation is key and these plants can co-exist with your other garden favourites.

What I do hope is that we can get to a point where we don’t instinctively yank out anything that we haven’t planted ourselves. This is a uniquely human level of intervention and subscribes to a totally manufactured notion of what ‘looks nice’ and what doesn’t - form over function. We share the planet with trillions of other living things, so I reckon we should make more of an effort to blend together both what is functional for us, and functional for wildlife. Human-centic housing and industrial developments, intensive farming, pollution and global warming continue to decimate habitats, and to re-iterate, I do believe we can, and should try to make our gardens part of the living patchwork of landscape that surrounds us.

By taking a considered but more hands-off approach to gardening, we can encourage gardens to become havens for wildlife, and in doing so we can start to appreciate not only the value that ‘weeds’ have but also how beautiful they are too. So, next time you see some weed seedlings pop up in your garden, why not see what it grows to be? It could sustain more life than you might think - and it’s a step towards collaboration and companionship with nature, which I feel is the most beautiful thing of all.

Creating a wildflower meadow: part one

This one’s a work in progress, so the images I’m sharing are not alive with lush greenery and vibrant flowers. Sometimes nature and gardening blogs focus a lot on end results, and it can be intimidating to think “How am I going to get there?” I think it’s important to recognise that when working with nature (and indeed most things worth working on), it’s all a process. You tend not to go from A to B in an instant. With that in mind, please enjoy these images of two fairly boring looking mounds.

The story behind these vaguely sculpted mounds is intrinsically linked to the pond, because by and large they’re comprised of what I excavated to make it (the pond). I suppose in the past I might have considered this massive pile of stuff an annoyance, something I needed to ‘get rid of’, but I ended up seeing it as an opportunity to create something wholly beneficial to a variety of wildlife.

For quite some time now, this excavated soil sat in the garden in one big pile, imposing and relatively featureless. What astounded me though, was just how many plants managed to find themselves there within less than a year. Nature always finds a way. By the end of Summer last year, it was full of Oxeye Daisies, Poppies, Purple Toadflax, Greater Willowherb, Nettles, Docks, Herb Robert, Hedge Bedstraw and more. It was alive with the buzz of bees and the beating of butterfly wings. This messy mound had been colonised naturally had become a productive cog in the local ecosystem, and with no intervention from me. Indeed, this on a micro-scale is a good indication of how we can re-wild our landscapes.

Far from being a simple mound of topsoil though, this is quite a mix of different mediums. It’s got a bit of topsoil in it, but is largely comprised of chalky subsoil, sand, and gravel. This means it’s a very free draining, but relatively “poor” soil (in nutrient terms). Luckily, not only is this kind of soil ideal for a variety of plants, but the plants it is ideal for happen to be incredibly useful for all sorts of wildlife.

The more I read (and the more I thought about it), it became obvious that most native UK wildflowers are actually well suited to poor soils; they have adapted to them and are capable of thriving without easy access to a bounty of nutrients. Plus, because wildflowers are (or at least were) so ubiquitous, pollinators, birds and a variety of insects have adapted to become quite reliant on them for sources of nectar, pollen, food, and shelter.

So, observing this wild-looking mound at the height of Summer 2020, I decided that I would sculpt the mounds and make something a little more considered, while still retaining the wild feel. Two months ago, I began shaping them – trying to keep them as informal as possible – and cut a small pathway through them which, when time allows, will lead to a nice arbour area (and not an old caravan!)

I then bought UK native wildflower / grass mix seed which is suited to chalky soil (I sowed at about 5g/m2, which is a little higher than the standard rate but allowed for my dog disrupting them and birds eating some of the seed). I mixed the seed with dry sand at about a 10:1 ratio (this helps with even distribution of seed). I then scattered (as evenly as possible, up/down/left/right) and lightly stepped over the mounds to ensure contact with the soil.

Up until about a week or two ago, the weather was extremely dry but cold, so I was actually having to water the mounds on a daily basis. However now, at the time of writing, loads of seeds have germinated and I can’t wait to see how it fares over the summer.

Because I sowed quite late in Spring, I’m not expecting many flowers this year but hopefully the plants will get a good foothold before springing back nice and early next year. Then it’ll be a case of using a scythe to cut back after flowering (September/October time), leaving the seed heads on the soil for a short while (for the birds but also to allow the plants to spread) and then the seed heads and cuttings will go on the compost heap.

It’s worth noting that these mounds are not going to look particularly neat; it’ll be full of grasses and all sorts of perennial plants - ironically, some of these plants some would consider weeds. However, as I’ve mentioned a few times now, excessive intervention, weeding, and being too “neat and tidy” in the garden might feel the right thing to do aesthetically, but it is not necessarily the best way to help wildlife. In my view, the more we can do in our gardens that move away from the invented notion of what ‘looks nice’ and move closer toward supporting ecosystems, the better.

It’s tempting to go off on a tangent here about the whole idea of aesthetics, but that probably warrants several posts of its own, so I’ll stop here!

If you do have a garden, even if small, consider trying something like this for yourself. The soil doesn’t need to be great quality and even if it’s not free-draining, there are plenty of wildflowers that will thrive on waterlogged soil. Wildflowers are a great benefit to wildlife; they provide shelter for grasshoppers and crickets, food for beetles and other insects, lots of nectar and pollen for pollinators, habitats for caterpillars and other grubs, as well as seed, nest materials and sustenance for a variety of birds. In addition, they’re beautiful in their wildness and should grow and spread reliably as each year passes by – with little maintenance required.

I’ll keep you updated with the progress. Here’s hoping for a bit more rain to help the seeds along a bit and then lots of warm, June sunshine. In the meantime, here’s a link to the seeds mix I used along with the varieties of plant within.

https://britishwildflowermeadowseeds.co.uk/collections/calcareous-soils/products/wiltshire-meadow-seed-mix

Typical Major Wildflower Species:

Clustered bellflower Campanula glomerata

Wild Carrot Daucus carota

Eyebright Euphrasia nemerosa

Common knapweed Centaurea nigra

Lady's Bedstraw Galium verum

Field scabious Knautia arvensis

Rough Hawkbit Leontodon hispidus

Fairy Flax Linum catharticum

Birdsfoot trefoil Lotus corniculatus

Black medick Medicago lupilina

Red Bartsia Odontites vernus 

Ribwort Plantain Plantago lanceolata

Hairy Plantain Plantago media

Self-heal Prunella vulgaris

Meadow Buttercup Ranunculus acris

Yellow Rattle Rhinanthus minor

Small Scabious Scabiosa columbaria

Greater stitchwort Stellaria holostea

Saw-wort Surratula tinctoria

Wild red Clover Trifolium pratense

Grasses:

Common Bent Agrostis cappilaris

Meadow foxtail Alopercus pratensis 

Crested dog's-tail Cynosaurus cristatus

Cocksfoot Dactylis glomerata 

Fescues Festuca sp. (ovina)

Smooth-stalked Meadow-grass Poa pratensis

Wildlife pond: part two

Firstly, a big thank you to anyone who read my first post about ponds, the feedback was lovely.  

In this post, I wanted to talk a little about my pond but also share a few things I’ve learned first-hand. I’m by no means an expert but I have made plenty of mistakes which I’ve had to rectify and learned a lot along the way so hopefully some of it will help you if you’re looking to put a pond in.

So, a little bit about my pond!

The pond is about 4m across at its longest, with abut a 3m width. It’s quite an abstract shape as I wanted it to look as natural as possible. The area I dug was a combination of compact, chalky subsoil, gravel, and hardcore. It was an arduous but rewarding task – but the ground being so tough meant I wasn’t able to go quite as deep as I wanted or have the perfect sloping edges! But hey, plans change – we just have to make the most of what we have.  

At its deepest, the pond is about 60cm, and at it’s shallowest, it’s about 10cm. Luckily, these measurements happen to be ideal for most wildlife – it’s a common misconception that a pond needs to be really deep to be beneficial to wildlife. In fact, this is only really necessary if you put fish like Koi in it. In the case of amphibians and the majority of invertebrates and insects, most are happy in the shallows.

What makes this pond particularly unconventional is the island in the middle, which has invited all kinds of questions (including that of my sanity - I assure you I am absolutely not sane). Initially I wanted this to be the middle point of a bridge but have since decided against that.

The Plants:

By my last count, there are over 30 plants in and around my pond – most of them I put in and are native to the UK, and a couple of others have found their way there naturally. I generally opt for native plants because by design they’re perfect for our climate and are therefore more likely to thrive - plus the fauna are more likely to take to it.

The Creatures:

The pond is still very young, so I expect this to change dramatically over the years, but so far I have visibly seen (and identified) 10 creatures living in the pond.

I’ve seen about 20 other things that are too small to identify, plus there are likely hundreds of microscopic organisms that I’ll never be able to see.

In addition, the pond is used regularly as a drinking station for a variety of pollinators and birds – so already it’s amazing to see the benefit it’s had after just a year and a half.

I’ll put a list of all the stuff I’ve identified or planted in my pond at the end of this article.

The Island:

Initially this was to be the middle holding point for a bridge. I eventually came to like the idea that the island was actually something “inaccessible”; something to be observed but not traversed - and to be left for the wild. I excavated it, mixed in some topsoil and it’s now lined with a mixture of Creeping Thyme. This herb has rich heady scent and lovely colours which will be enjoyed from afar by both us and the wildlife, plus they will provide plenty of nectar and pollen. They will also eventually creep downwards and across each other, filling the entire space and covering some of the exposed liner.

 The Waterfall

This is a bit of a contentious feature for strict wildlife pond owners as it involves the use of a pump, but I always wanted a little feature in the pond and waterfall itself is very, very gentle.

It’s a very simple set up – a pond pump with a hose which is directed up and around the back of the pond and into the waterfall. The waterfall area is built up with subsoil, gravel and chalk and limestone, and I’ve planed a load of bee-friendly alpines in it so make it feel a little like a rockery, but a very informal one! My lack of artistic talent means that being able to call my landscaping “informal” is very handy indeed.

Things I have learned:

I can’t stress enough that I am far from an expert and in fact take an immense amount of joy from learning from my mistakes. Here’s a list of things that I’d love to pass on if you were considering putting your own pond in your garden.

1)      Your pond doesn’t need to be big, or deep.

Digging a pond of any size requires a decent amount of effort, but thankfully if you want it to be beneficial to wildlife, you don’t need to worry about going too deep. Around 50cm at its deepest point is great for most wildlife – but even a washing up bowl full of rainwater can make an amazing habitat.  

2)      Slope and soften the edges

Hindsight is 20/20! You may notice that there are parts of my pond that are really quite steep at the edges. Try to make the edges a nice smooth slope and plant plenty of creeping or marginal plants which will help to cover up that liner, plus help some creatures access the pond more safely.

3)      Try to avoid using tap water

It’s really hard to do, especially in the Summer when the pond level drops, but I’d seriously recommend filling your pond with rainwater and interfering as little as possible with tap water. Tap water contains loads of nutrients and minerals that blanketweed and algae love, plus chemicals that most wildlife does not love! I noticed every time I topped up with tap water that the blanketweed spread a LOT! If you really need to use tap water, try and leave it a few days in a bucket or water butt which gives some of the volatile chemicals some chance to burn off.

4)      Think about the birds and the bees

Birds, bees and other pollinators will LOVE your pond as a watering hole (and in the case of birds, a bath too). A single mass of water is likely to result in lots of drowned bees and wasps, which isn’t fun. The best way to avoid this is to put logs/smooth rocks or pebbles in the pond. Birds can perch on the logs or rocks and if you have a sloping edge or beach area with pebbles, pollinators can have safe access to the water too.

5)      Make sure at least part of the pond is in shade

This is for three reasons. Firstly, algae and blanketweed thrive in sunlight and warmth, and they really can be a pain to deal with. In moderation, they’re fine, but unchecked they can smother the entire pond very quickly (and most of the flora and fauna within). The second reason is that amphibians like frogs and toads love damp, cool areas. Full sun can be a bit dangerous for them. The third reason is that more sun means the pond is likely to need topping up more in the Summer.

6)      Watercress is your friend

A bag of watercress from the supermarket (ideally organic but not a deal-breaker) chucked in the pond is a really easy way to get things going. It roots after a week or so and you can then move it into a corner to make a really wildlife rich area, with lovely white flowers in Spring. It’ll also help keep the water clear.

7)      Enjoy the process and be patient

As a consequence of fast living, often we want instant results. I was so impatient to start with, expecting the pond to be teeming with life from day one. But if you enjoy the process and take your time (and let the pond take its time) it makes any arrival or any change so special. There is something wonderful about knowing you are creating a home for something.

 And that’s it for now! Thanks again for reading. Next piece soon, but I’ll give you a break from the pond for a while until things warm up a bit.

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 Creatures Living in the Pond (Visibly!)

1.      Pond Skater, Gerris Lacustris

2.      Common Black Diving Beetle, Agapus Bipustulatus

3.      Common Backswimmer, Notonecta Glauca

4.      Rams Horn Snail, Planorbidae

5.      Mosquito Larvae, Culicidae

6.      Non-biting Midge, Chironomidae

7.      Red Water Mite, Hydrachinidia

8.      Whirligig Beetle, Gyrinidae

9.      Water Flea, Daphnia

10. Common Toad, Bufo Bufo

 Plants (Marsh adjacent to pond)

1.      Water Figwort, Scrophularia Auriculata

2.      Purple-loosestrife, Lythrum Salicaria

3.      Pendulous Sedge, Carex Pendula

4.      Chive, Allium Schoenoprasum

5.      Golden Creeping Jenny, Lysimacha nummularia

6.      Cotton Bud Grass, Scirpus Cernuus

7.      Rodgersia Bronze Peacock, Saxifragiacae

8.      Marsh Woundwort, Stachys palustris

9.      Ligularia, Asteraceae   

 Plants (Pond Margins and Surface)

1.      Marsh Cinquefoil, Potentilla Palustris

2.      Water Mint, Mentha Aquatica

3.      Blue Pickerel Weed, Pontederia Cordata

4.      Yellow Flag Iris, Iris Pseudacorus

5.      Watercress, Nasturtium Officinale

6.      Water Forget-Me-Not, Myosotis Scorpoides

7.      Marsh Marigold, Caltha Palustris

8.      Water Lily Alba, Nymphaea Alba

9. Common Duckweed, Lemna Minor

10. Least Duckweed, Lemna Minuta

11. Ivy-leaved Duckweed, Lemna Triscula

12. Lesser Spearwort, Ranunculus Flammula

13. Great Willowherb, Epilobium Hirsutium

14. Muskingum Sedge, Carex Muskingumensis

15. Branched Bur-reed, Spargnium Erectum

16. Bogbean, Menyanthes Trifoliata

17. Water Purslane, Ludwigia Palustris

18. Water Plantain, Alisma Plantago Aquatica

Plants (Submerged Oxygenators)

1.      Hornwort, Ceratophyllum demersum

2.      Common Water-Crowfoot, Ranunculus aquatilis

3.      Willow Moss, Fontinalis antipyretica

4.      Mare’s Tail, Hippuris Vulgaris

5.      Water Violet, Hottonia palustris

The seasons: April 2021

The seasons might be blending slowly into a string of unpredictable chaos, but for now, they remain a wonderful insight into the natural world, of which we are all part.

I’ve found the concept of the seasons to be very humbling in relation to my existence as a human being. The seasons are a cycle. They are not without their surprises but, for now, there remains an element of comforting predictability. Many of us humans think we have cheated the seasons (for example we buy out-of-season produce and advance the clocks in Spring to get more daylight) but we are as much subject to them as the rest of the natural world. The sooner we recognise that as a species the better; we are not above nature.

The most obvious signs of seasonal change are temperature and daylight levels, but over the past few years I’ve found myself more and more interested about the other indicators too – the sights, sounds and smells that can be an instant giveaway as to the time of year it is. Living in the countryside often does give me access to a wider array of seasonal signals, but they can be experienced wherever you live.

At the moment, we’re the infancy of Spring 2021, and if you’re like me you’ll have been enjoying the vivid yellow of the daffodils, the chorus of birds singing their hearts out, seeing the first bees and butterflies on the search for early nectar and pollen.

What I thought I’d do for this short post, is just share a few images of a few things in bloom around me. I reckon taking just a few minutes a day or week to notice the natural world as it shifts and changes around us can really help pull us from the autopilot we’re on so much of the time. It’s an opportunity to feel grounded and present, and part of something. It’s a space that sits outside of “consuming” or “working”, two things we spend a disproportionate amount of our limited time on Earth doing.

Seeing some of these Spring plants in bloom really does lift the mood - and we can draw a lot of strength from the pervasiveness of plants; after all, through the harshest winters they have adapted and come back year after year. So can we.

Enjoy!

1) Purple Rock Cress / Aubretia deltoidea

This is growing out of a crack in the pavement at the bottom of my drive. Aubretias are really vigorous creeping plants in the right conditions - in most cases it’ll grow in really free draining, poor soil and is good for a rockery/gravel garden.

2) Rapeseed / Brassica napus

A classic sign of Spring if there ever was one, this is a particularly early rapeseed flower for the middle of Lincolnshire. This particular field has had rapeseed in all winter, laying fairly dormant, but has very quickly sprung to life. Soon we’ll be seeing farmlands carpeted with bright yellow.

3) Early dog-violet / Viola reichenbachiana

This just started cropping up all over the village a few weeks ago, I hadn’t even noticed it before in the seven years I’ve lived here. It likes shade and moist soil, and has a really nice, kind of understated colour. So-called “dog” violet to distinguish it from “sweet violet”.

4) Marsh Marigold / Caltha palustris

This was one of the first plants I got for my pond. It’s a native perennial and I was so pleased when it came back this year - even the flowerheads before bursting looked beautiful. It’s a lovely warm yellow-orange and the bees are loving it.

5) Grape Hyacinth / Muscari

I only noticed these for the first time a few years ago too. They’re Spring flowering bulbs and I’ve got a real soft spot for them. They crop up on long, thin stems and look like rich, juicy bunches of grapes - kind of exotic looking - and good for bees. Great for planting alongside your other Spring bulbs like Daffodils and Tulips, but can spread quite quickly!

6) Tulips / Tulipa

I had to actually tweak the saturation on this image because the red was so vivid. Tulips are one of those things where a photo will never do it justice because the colours really are so vibrant. A classic Spring bulb that emerges from a base of quite thick, leathery leaves.

7) Cherry Blossom / Prunus

Oh man, one of my absolute favourite flowers and I’m sure I’m not alone! I believe ornamental cherry trees like this are actually native to China. The bees round here have been loving it. Looking up through this wonderful tree towards a blue sky is just something else - and this one is in our garden which makes us very lucky indeed. Blossom is another sure sign of Spring, and tends to bloom in a staggered fashion up and down the country in whites, creams and pale pinks.

8) Green Alkanet / Pentaglottis sempervirens

I noticed this just before heading to the tip this morning. Really small flowers (a little like forget-me-nots) and actually considered a weed by many (although the term ‘weed’ is very ambiguous). It’s actually a really pretty wildflower that grows particularly well in damper areas.

9) Darwin’s Barberry / Berberis darwinii

I’m cheating here because it’s not fully in bloom yet but I bloody adore this shrub. Again, a non-native but absolutely beautiful, sun-drenched orange flowers open up in April and the whole plant is covered with bees. The leaves are a bit thorny, but it really does add some amazing colour. I acquired this with my garden, and I’ve pruned the lower branches to make it a bit more tree-like.

10) Dandelion / Taraxacum

Most folks are familiar with dandelions - they’re very good at spreading themselves about. I don’t mind that so much though - particularly because they’re a great source of nectar for bees. Humans like to keep things neat and tidy so often we larrup dandelions in weed killer, but honestly plants like this are often the best ones for pollinators!

Wildlife pond: part one

In the Summer of 2019, I was in ‘The Dark Place’. I took two weeks off work and spent almost the entire time digging a pond – it was nice to do something physical and burn off that anxious energy.

Having a pond has been a wonderful addition to daily life and there’s way too much to write about in one blog post. I thought for this one, I would focus simply on why having a pond can be such a good addition to your life, as well the local ecosystem. The inspiration and insight it’s given me has been incredible.

The context that brings to life the importance of ponds sits on predictable ground: human activity is causing a decline in natural ponds and pond quality. In fact, over the past 100 years, we’ve lost 70% of our ponds from the UK countryside – often to make way for other uses such as building developments. Of those that remain, pollution and invasive plants are threatening their quality and ability to sustain life.

The impact of this decline is huge, when you consider the potential that ponds and freshwater habitats have to sustain life. With them in decline, teems of species are losing habitats and breeding ground as well as access to food, water and shelter.

Supermarket-bought watercress is great for ponds - as you can see!

There are a number of projects past and present that are working on restoring our natural ponds, but based on everything I’ve read so far, one of the best actions you can take is to put one in your own garden, if you have one. In fact, garden ponds have become essential tools in helping to sustain the many species being driven out of countryside wetland habitats.

 If you’re considering putting a pond in, please allow me to mention a few of the benefits and maybe it’ll sway you to get going!

1 — Ponds are a rich habitat stretching across the food chain. As long as you keep interference to a minimum and remain open-minded, a pond can support so much life. One of the first things likely to arrive in Spring is the larvae of a number of small insects such as midges and mosquitos. This might make some people recoil – but without this crucial step, little else is likely to follow – after all, the ability for nature to survive relies on the food chain. So, these larval forms attract small invertebrates and beetles, which then attract larger invertebrates and beetles, which then attract birds, bats, frogs, toads and newts, which then attract herons, hedgehogs, owls and maybe even grass snakes.

In short: If you spot mosquito larvae in your pond (it looks like a small black thrashing worm with a large head) take it as positive sign of things to come - and even if you don’t get the larger species visit your pond for a while, know that there are lots of things benefiting from the pond being there (some of which are almost too small to see).

Ultimately, a pond (of any size) has the potential to both directly and indirectly sustain hundreds and thousands of creatures. However, it’s worth noting that ‘ornamental’ ponds (with features such as lighting, hard landscaped edges, powerful pumps/filters/waterfalls/fountains, fish and very little vegetation) do not have the same positive impact that a pond designed for wildlife does.

2 — Ponds are a watering hole. The natural world is not without its grisly moments, but seeing your pond used as a watering hole by so many different creatures will be a joy to behold. On a summery day, my pond is often alive with creatures sharing the precious resource of water; bees, hoverflies, wasps, blackbirds, sparrows, goldfinches, doves, pigeons…. often at the same time!

A toad having a nice cool down on a hot day

3 — Ponds give you an insight into the seasons. Most natural spaces give us a window into seasonal change, but there’s something intimate and dynamic about the way that a pond does.

In Spring, the perennial pond plants start showing new growth, and the surface of the pond starts to glitter with sunlight, caressed by the flitting water tracks of Pond Skaters, small insects and water beetles. It’s at this time that frogs, toads and newts begin to spawn too, if they’re in your area.

In Summer, the pond is lush and bright, and teeming with plant and insect life; dragonflies and damselflies visit to ‘scout’ potential laying sites, pollinators and birds stop for a quick drink; waterlilies fleetingly bloom before hiding away again at night. Mosquitos rise up from the pond and begin breeding and pollinating. Blue skies reflecting on the surface of a pond is really captivating, too.

 In Autumn, many pond plants will give a final flourish before dying back. Slowly but surely many of the pond’s visitors start to depart, either to hibernate, to move to another pond or simply because their natural life is coming to an end. It feels like things are coming to a rest.

In Winter it becomes mostly lifeless to the seeing eye. Perennial vegetation dies back or goes into dormancy and anything that remains usually stays well out of sight, hiding in folds of the liner or in the detritus at the bottom. Layers of frost and ice over the surface keeps the heat in but makes the pond impenetrable. It’s all quite silent and peaceful, but if you’re lucky you’ll still get a glimpse of life here and there.

4 — Ponds are a relaxing and positive diversion. I can’t walk past my pond without glimpsing something or just stopping in my tracks to stare at it for a while. Humans have a long, deep history with water (having emerged from it) and while there still aren’t any concrete scientific reasons why, there is mounting research that indicates that being around water can have significant benefits to wellness.

5 — Ponds teach the value of patience. Even if you fill your pond from the start with plants and frogspawn, it’s worth knowing that a pond is a very complex ecosystem which can take years to reach a point of balance.

Your patience will be rewarded however, because everything native that arrives of its own accord over the years will have done so because it belongs there, and is therefore more likely to be a permanent fixture and thrive. You will have created a home. Be assured though, that along the way (and even after a balance is reached) there are still going to be surprises.

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I’ll exercise a bit of restraint and stop there, but to clarify: I am a big fan of ponds. There are loads of benefits to having one, both within and externally, and I invite anyone reading this to consider giving it a go.

For those who are interested, my next pond blog will be about my own pond and the various things I’ve learned along so far. I’m by no means an expert, but I’m happy to help anyone out who is thinking of putting one in their garden so please do give me a shout!

Sending warm Spring Equinox vibes your way,
Lewis

Common Darter dragonfly

Creating a wildlife-rich log pile

One of the recurring themes I’ve been encountering in my reading recently has been the obsession with tidiness in our gardens. Many of us guilty of it to some extent or another. The problem is, neat and tidy tends not to be very helpful for wildlife, and I want to make my garden more hospitable.

Part of my research has involved looking at wild habitats with a view to try and re-create them in my garden, not least because such habitats are systematically being ripped apart in order to satiate the apparent demands of modern humans. I’ll mention other projects in other posts, but this particular one involves logs, and more broadly, the idea that decay is the basis for a lot of life (perhaps of some comfort to those who suffer thanatophobia – fear of death).

In undisturbed wild land, such as woodland or hedgerows, life springs from decay. As fallen trees or branches decompose into the earth (along with leaves and vegetation, insects and so on), an extensive and thriving habitat is born for a variety of wildlife. This includes, but is certainly not limited to: centipedes, woodlice, beetles, worms, solitary pollinators, and amphibians. In addition to this, many of these small creatures provide a tasty snack to opportunistic birds and other larger animals, and so are a crucial link in the food chain. Small things can have a big impact. 

Going back to my mention of neat and tidiness, an important point to make is these habitats are established and thrive without human interference. Nature doesn’t use pesticides on itself or rid itself of weeds. It doesn’t mow itself. In fact, the majority of the cultivation of the soil is done incidentally as each lifeform in that ecosystem goes about its business (for example, earthworms aerate the soil, and millipedes help move organic matter around). Everything is inherently linked and, with time, has the potential to support any adaptive life.

So, although the temptation is there to dispose of old twigs, fallen leaves, etc, I decided to try and cast aside what is ultimately quite a manufactured idea of tidiness. I wanted to have a go at creating such an ecosystem in my garden adjacent to the pond – in this case, a log pile. Obviously, it’s going to be difficult to re-create it perfectly, but I wanted to have a go! Here’s what I did:

I dug down a couple of inches into the soil and set some nice thick, old logs into the perimeter to form a foundation. I then added a load of leaves, moss, composted bark and pinecones before informally layering logs, twigs and branches of varying sizes. Finally, I topped it off with some recently trimmed back conifer to provide additional shelter (not unlike what you might find in a coniferous forest). It’s in a relatively shaded area and right next to both a small marsh area and the aforementioned pond, so the habitat should remain relatively cool but humid.

I’ll be keeping a good eye on the log pile this year - I have no other real plans for it apart from maybe planting a scrambling plant over it to add a bit more vegetation and something for the birds and bees. Then it’ll just be a case of replacing any logs that completely decompose, with new ones. It’s certain to grow and change over the years it could take a considerable amount of time before it reaches a balance – after all, ecosystems are complex and can take a long, long time to establish. I’ll be happy to see any wildlife visit, whether temporarily or permanent, and no doubt some critters have already moved in! I’ll report back if anything visible and of note appears.

If you’re lucky enough to have a garden (even if tiny), consider giving this a go. Even if you don’t have access to fallen logs (you can’t go and nick ‘em from woodland as they’ll already be a habitat in itself), old leaves, branches, twigs and sticks stacked can still make a wonderful habitat (sometimes called a brash pile). I find that there is something deeply, deeply fulfilling about creating a home for wildlife. The great thing to boot is that this doesn’t need to be really formal, so if you’re ham-fisted and clumsy like me, all will be well :)