The Ovington Ramblers: Lolly & Scarning

Maureen Simmons

 Lolly Moor

We found ourselves drawn to this little hidden treasure in Westfield, near Dereham.  Whether this was  because of its unusual name or the feeling that came over us as we wandered through the diverse little habitats, following the numerous animal  pathways.  We were too early fo

r the thousands of cowslips at Lolly Moor but there were plenty of primroses in the wooded area. It was an icy but sunny morning and the frost on the reeds and seed heads looked amazing. As we were about to leave the moor, we found ourselves in a sea of diamonds as the sunlight reflected in the melting frost. An enchanting moment!

Scarning Fen

A short drive away in Toftwood we found Scarning Fen. This chalk wetland contains some extremely rare plants which have survived from the last Ice Age. With this in mind, we decided not to venture too far on this frosty morning in fear of damaging the plantlife. (A marked walkway would be of great help to visitors and also help protect the site.) We will definitely visit again in June to see the rare red damsel flies as this is the only place in Norfolk where they are found.

Of dead leaves, green shoots and pots of gold

David North, Head of People and Wildlife

There is no greater alchemy than the bringing of life from death. And yet, as the world turns, and February days lengthen, the sure signs of rebirth are all around us. Along every country lane, in every Norfolk copse and spinney, in field and furrow the seemingly fragile green shoots of new life are already appearing.

One of my favourite walks, very close to where I live, passes through a small wood and  despite strong wind and showers this new growth is apparent everywhere. Out of last autumn’s now grey leaves fragile shoots are pushing upwards towards air and light. Some leaves are still tightly rolled in green wands, others unfurl in exquisite translucent greens catching the ephemeral light of a February sun as it plays a losing game with darkening clouds. For moments, and moments only, each fragile leaf seems lit by its own green light as if fully absorbing the sun’s rays and then radiating them back out in a soft green fire – every new leaf a living light surrounded by crisp and very dead grey leaves and dark, brittle twigs blown out of the rooks’s nests that sway in creaking, tree-tops high above. Here in this small wood these first shoots, holding the promise of spring to come, are the first emergence of wild garlic. Wild garlic, or ramsons as its also called, that by April will carpet this woodland floor in a sea of green above which starry balls of white flowers will shine. To walk across these massed green leaves is to leave a pungent trail of wonderful, but overpowering, garlic. A smell good enough to eat, and yes, just a handful of these myriad leaves will end up back in my kitchen.

This February of course is not at all typical. The mild wet winter has brought forward the growth of many plants by several weeks. My walk to the local village shop,  even in late January, was brightened by ‘pots of gold’, the half-open cups of golden-yellow celandines, which only when the sun shone open to turn into bright yellow suns of their own. Walking the dog around our many farm lanes it’s no great surprise to find dandelion, red and white dead nettle, and mayweed in flower along our local field edges. These ‘weedy’ species are pioneers, adapted to grow fast and flower whenever opportunity arises and at least some will be in flower every month of the year.  But this year even in late January barren strawberry and dog’s mercury were in full flower, true signs of just how unusually mild this winter has been.  And now in February alongside the expected snowdrops (February fair maids as they were once known) are the first flowers of alexanders and in village gardens yellow daffodils whose trumpets really shouldn’t sound until March. The sword-like leaves of wild garlic under hedgerows are already grown large, darker green on their outer sides and lighter green on the inner surfaces of their green cowls. In other years these flowers would make their first appearance a whole month later.

My February walks are also accompanied, at least when I can hear them above the wind, by the songs of song thrush, dunnock, robin and chaffinch, the drumming of great spotted woodpeckers and the ‘teacher – teacher’ notes of great tits. All this may change of course. Should a cold spell set in then the birds now singing will need every daylight hour to feed and hopefully survive the cold of winter nights. At least for now the sounds of garden birds and growing greens along every verge spell rebirth and at least a promise of a spring to come.  

Nature’s yearly miracle of new life is upon us, but perhaps a little early!  In the next few weeks I will be keeping my eye out for blackthorn decking my local hedgerows white, first nodding violets flowering in my garden and the pure gold, shining in wet  hollows, of one of my favourite flowers, marsh marigolds or kingcups as they are also known. Out of dead leaves everywhere the miracle of new life - the kingcup is dead, long live the kingcup.

The Ovington Ramblers: Lower Wood and Hethel Old Thorn

Maureen Simmons

This week we visited Lower Wood,Ashwellthorpe, with a short stop on the way to see Hethel Old Thorn the smallest Wildlife Trust nature reserve in the UK. Both places are not far from Wymondham.

NWT Hethel Old Thorn

The Old Thorn, growing at the rear of a very pretty church, is believed to date back to the thirteenth century and once measured over 9 foot around its girth.  Sadly, today, it is only a shadow of its former self, but it was a privilege to stand close to this venerable old shrub and see it awakening from yet another winter sleep.

At Lower Wood, Ashwellthorpe, you can plainly see how the coppicing of the trees is happening and how the new growth is encouraged. This ancient woodland provided the ash poles to a once thriving brush-making factory at Wymondham.

NWT Lower Wood, Ashwellthorpe

The wood was alive with the sound of birdsong. Catkins hung from the hazel trees providing a vital food source for bees just as they are recovering from the cold of winter.  Bluebells and wild garlic were pushing up beneath the trees... spring is indeed on its way!   

The Ovington Ramblers: Thompson Common

Maureen Simmons

Pingo at Thompson Common

Walking around Thompson Common is like a magical mystery tour.

Starting at the car park on the A1075, just South of Watton, we first walked through the wooded area. Here there are many ponds filled with crystal clear water from the chalk springs below; branches from old trees hanging across the ponds creating an ancient, eerie atmosphere. New bright green shoots of the water plants were plain to see – a sharp contrast to the graceful remains of last season's bullrushes. These fascinating ponds are known as “pingos” and they were created at the end of the last Ice Age, 12,000 years ago and today they provide a unique habitat for nearly 60 threatened species. 

Blue sky reflecting on fresh water mint

 

The pleasant walk continued on a quiet country lane, abundant with snowdrops, and then on to open fields. Here there was a large herd of sheep peacefully grazing in the late winter sunshine, playing their part in protecting this special site. We noticed they had chewed off the bark of a group of young birch trees. Were they taking advantage of the sweet birch sap rising at this time of year?

As the sun was beginning to sink down, we didn't reach the final part of the walk to Thompson Water. We decided to go there another day to (hopefully) spot an otter or two!

Meet Angela Wynne, who takes the majority of the photos for our posts.

The Ovington Ramblers are a small group of friends who have decided in their 20^th year of walking together that we will try to visit all the Norfolk Wildlife Trust reserves in their 90th Anniversary year.

Pop goes the weasel

Chris Durdin, NWT Volunteer at Thorpe Marshes

Sometimes watching nature you need a bit of luck. The party on a winter guided walk at Thorpe Marshes was on the path by the River Yare when an alert group member noticed a mammal balanced at the very top of the dead stalks of greater willowherb. It was a weasel, but what was it doing there? Another movement caught our eyes –a mouse, also high in the wintry vegetation. We watched for only a minute or two but it seemed longer, time running slowly as the cat-and-mouse – well, weasel-and-mouse – game continued. Then the mouse dropped into the base of the vegetation and the weasel followed, and both disappeared from view. We presume it was an unhappy outcome for the mouse, but we don’t know.

Harvest mouse and weasel (photo by Derek Longe)

In the meantime, Derek Longe was taking photographs, and the picture captures the moment. Remarkably, as well as helping us to confirm that it was a weasel and not a stoat, by zooming in we discovered that it was stalking a harvest mouse. Two mammal species confirmed in the click of a shutter.

Bridge still shut: a reminder that the usual pedestrian entrance into the reserve over the railway bridge in Whitlingham Lane is shut for major repairs until the end of March. The way in on foot is along a muddy path from Bungalow Lane, farther east along Yarmouth Road, and that’s also true for guided walks.

Chris Durdin leads monthly wildlife walks at NWT Thorpe Marshes. Details of these and recent sightings on the reserve are on www.honeyguide.co.uk/thorpemarshes.htm. The website also has the 14-page NWT Thorpe Marshes Wildlife Report for 2015.