Cockermouth Circle Line

I've always liked the London Underground, from the woosh of the trains to the unique aroma of the platforms, and especially the schematic map. When I worked in a microbiology lab in London in the 1970s, I always got a seat on the tube by the simple expedient of donning a lab coat and carrying a sandwich box covered in biohazard stickers. We don't have an underground here in Cockermouth (nor an overground any longer thanks to Dr Beeching), but I've adopted the schematic map to plan my local walks. Welcome to the Circle Line, starting at my local station: The Old Cornmill. 

I haven't mentioned the height of the River Derwent recently, mainly because it has been behaving itself and not causing me to deploy the flood defences. After a weekend of steady rain (which, for the first time in five months, prevented me getting out and about) it rose to its typical high level which is not enough to worry the mallards. So, let us proceed eastbound, stopping first at Back Lane.

Here we find a wall covered in dying ivy, which gives us a chance to have a good look at how it manages to grow up a wall without falling off. Firstly, it sends out small roots from the stem to get an initial purchase. These then send out even smaller rootlets that get into the tiniest of crevices and produce an adhesive (with separate hardener, would you believe). Finally, they change shape, screwing themselves into position, then lignify (turn to wood). So, if you want to affix something permanently to a wall, copy ivy – glue it, then screw it.

The scientific name, Hedera helix, means grasping and spiralling. They didn't know about the glueing back then.

Turning our back on the ivy and peering over the opposite wall we have an uninteresting factory (from a naturalist's point of view) fronted by a pair of interesting reservoirs. There's usually something to see here, and today is no exception. Over there on the far bank (where else?) we have an Oystercatcher. I usually see these running along the sea shore, at the water's edge (see A Fjord By Any Other name - Solway Firth) and most Oystercatchers around the world are, indeed, coastal birds. The European Oystercatcher however, along with a couple of other species, also breed inland.

Our next stop along the line is North Fields (change here for the Northern Line to Woodhall farm) with a view of Cockermouth Castle in the distance and the landmark King's Church spire. We also have a flock of Herdwicks, and where we have sheep we have dung. Time for a prod! I see that the Yellow Dung Flies have hatched and are busy making the next generation. And if we turn it over... that looks to be a little dung beetle burrowing its way into the warm goo. Quite possibly an Aphodius species such as we saw at Watendlath Tarn. We're going to continue our journey to the bottom left corner of the field. Next stop, Gote Mills race.

I explained all about Gote Mills Race last year in Down By The Derwent, so I won't go over it again. The sluice gate is closed so let's delve beneath the logs lying amid the Snowdrops and see who's home. There are a couple of small snails, very delicate and shiny, so I expect that they are Glass Snails of the Gastrodontinae family; a Shiny Woodlouse, Oniscus asellus, and a pretty little Arion slug. I must admit, I was hoping for the odd reptile or amphibian down here but no matter, every living thing has an interesting tale to tell. No room to tell them here, but if you subscribe to Steve's Nature Plus I often go into more detail about the lifestyles of our native creatures.

Last stop, Memorial Gardens. We're back in civilisation now with plenty of garden feeders in the area so we have a good number of birds, such as this Blue Tit, singing in the trees. I do believe that was a Red Admiral butterfly we just disturbed, and over there – our first Bumblebee of the year. The insects are starting to appear, birds are singing for mates and it's the Equinox at 9.37am on Saturday. Spring begins this week-end. Yippee!

With all these insects and other invertebrates beginning to appear, why not treat yourself to a copy of The Quick Guide To Creepy-Crawlies and find out more about the amazing world of the minibeasts.

Happy Springtime

Steve

LINKS:

Steve's Nature Plus Join me at The Old Cornmill and follow me throughout the week for all the news that doesn't fit into the blog.

Share your nature thoughts, photos and comments on Naturalists (the facebook page that accompanies this blog)

Down by the Derwent

That Wordsworth was a romantic fellow: “I wandered lonely as a cloud..” I mean, I ask you, has anyone seen a lonely cloud in Cumbria? Ever? Had he been of a more pragmatic turn of mind he may have come up with something like this…

But these are fair weather clouds so let us take a stroll together down by the Derwent, starting by its confluence with the Cocker where Jennings’ brewery nestles comfortably between. This magnificent old tree, dominating the foreground, has a large spherical growth larger than a football. This is a canker and is the tree’s reaction to an invasion by small sac fungi, probably Botryosphaeria stevensii.

At this point we must leave the river bank, climb a stile and take to the fields where a group of Corvids are feeding. More than a third of all birds in the family Corvidae are in the type genus Corvus which includes the rooks, crows, jackdaws and ravens which can be difficult to tell apart. Jackdaws have a grey nape, pale grey eyes and call ‘chack’; ravens are much bigger than the other three and call ‘cronk’; crows and rooks are all black and of similar size with a similar cawing cry. The easiest way to tell them apart is from their beaks: black:crow [bc] white: rook [wr] – [bc] are together at the beginning of the alphabet, [wr] are towards the end of the alphabet.

Here in the hedgerows holly and hawthorn provide berries and haws for birds such as this blue tit. There are also great tits, sparrows, chaffinches and goldfinches around and that whirring, brindled body that just scurried off in the field on the other side of the hedge was either a partridge or a hen pheasant.

Back by the riverside we have a welcome splash of yellow, the flowers of an Ulex bush, commonly known as gorse, whin or furze. I wonder if it has attracted any insects? In a word, no. Insects and other creepy-crawlies are very thin on the ground still at the moment.

This bit of ironmongery is a sluice gate and it has been here since at least 1700 and was used twice a year to allow the gote, or ditch, behind to be cleared. The gote was a fast running ditch, or race, used to power the mills that were built along side it. Hence its name; Gote Mills Race. Lurking behind the felled tree to the left is a beautiful colony of bracket fungi.

For those of you who have followed my blog regularly it will come as no great surprise that at the end of a good morning’s walk I like to suggest that we rest awhile at some local hostelry. Today is no exception so I suggest that we adjourn to my favourite hostelry on Cockermouth’s Main Street, The Bush.

Although insects and other creepy-crawlies are very thin on the ground still at the moment that’s no reason not to buy a book about them. Get to know them before they arrive in all their varied forms.

 https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1694436756

Crete Nature Catch-up

Series 1 - Welcome to Lasithi

Series 2 - The Rhythm Of Life

Series 3 - A Journey Begins

Series 4 - The Milonas Valley

Series 5 - This Is Ferma

Series 6 - Upland Villages

Series 7 - The Forty saints

Series 8 - Sunday Strolls

Series 9 -Stormy Weather
Series 1O - The Grand Tour

In The Arms of Giants

Did anyone think to bring a bullwhip? A pity because after last week’s leisurely stroll Along The Ardefsi I have a feeling that today’s excursion is going to be a bit more Indiana Jones. Our objective, ladies and gentlemen, is to examine the area around and on top of that grasping claw-like edifice down there. There’s a second one in the distance, beyond the ardefsi. It’s not hard to imagine one of the Giants of Greek mythology, Pallas or Porphyrion say, taking a breather during their battle with The Gods and resting here with his hands upon his knees, gazing out to sea wondering how and when the battle would end. From such landscapes were the Greek myths concocted. The Giants lost by the way, after a bit of chicanery from Zeus prevented Ge from finding a magic herb. Anyhow let’s get down there and see what magic herbs and other wonders of nature we can locate today.

Darkling Beetle, Lower Chafer and Long-horned Beetle

Now somehow we’ve got to find a way up there but before we do it seems we are in the middle of a beetle drive. Firstly, when we left the road we had a little Darkling Beetle mooching about on that parasitic Dodder plant that we came across a couple of weeks ago (rather worryingly it has now spread to a second clump of Cretan Ebony thirty paces further down the hill). Then, here on this Cistus we have a Flower Chafer, a name it derives from the Old English word ceafor meaning beetle. And finally, our friend from last week, the Long-horned Beetle tucking into another Asphodel. Three beetles from three different families, that’s a good start to the day.

Honey Bees on Sage

Well, that wasn’t too bad was it? Now we’re up on top of the Giant’s hand the views are stupendous and the air is full of the scent of wild herbs and the soft drone of pollinating insects. It seems as if we have entered a honey factory. It’s this purple flowering Sage that seems to be attracting the Honey Bees. Not all bees make honey of course; of the twenty thousand or so known species of bee there are only seven species that make the honey for our table.  The sage that they’re working on is a wonderful plant. Apart from being a delicious accompaniment to pork dishes it has been recommended for virtually every ailment known to man at various times. Even its scientific name, Salvia, comes from the Latin salvere meaning to save. Modern research has proved it to have many useful properties from anti-sweating agents to blood fat reduction through to the management of mild to moderate Alzheimer’s disease. Perhaps this was the magic herb that Ge was looking for before Zeus thwarted her plans.

Great Tit in the Pines

Let’s leave the honey bees to their industry and go and rest awhile in the shade of the fir trees. Isn’t it amazing how they seem to grow out of solid rock? Lying here is like listening to nature’s orchestra with the bees providing the bass drone, the crickets and grasshoppers on percussion and the birds providing the melodies. The greenfinches and the chaffinches counterpointing one another and the loud pitchoo of the great tit providing the main theme.  It’s strange; although the Great Tit is quite common in these parts I’ve never seen a Blue Tit down here. I’ve seen them in Rethymno and on the Omalos Plateau but never here in Lassithi.  I wonder if there is a line across the island beyond which they will not venture.

 [A quick survey for those of you who live on the island – let me know where you do see (and where you don’t see) Blue Tits on Crete and I’ll try to build up a map.]

Mediterranean Slant-faced Grasshopper Nymph

If we stroll along the Giant’s forearm towards its elbow, as it were, I fancy we’ll find a somewhat less arduous way of getting back to our start point. Quite a few more orchids among the stones here and a little Restharrow I haven’t seen before… and who’s this lurking at my feet? A young Mediterranean Slant-faced Grasshopper. Do you remember the cheeky adult which perched on my pack up at The Hidden Plateau? This is a youngster of a closely related species. Between egg and adult insects have two different ways of growing up. Some, like the beetles and butterflies hatch into larvae and eat like mad for a bit before going into a sort of suspended animation called a pupa where they change their body shape completely. This is known as complete metamorphosis. Others such as grasshoppers and crickets don’t entertain all that palaver but hatch as miniature adults, gradually changing their appearance in a series of moults as they grow bigger. This is known as incomplete metamorphosis. The various stages are called instars and, particularly the late instars when they are almost fully grown but look quite different to the mature adult, can fool you into thinking that you have found a completely new species. So we’ll photograph this little chap and add him to our species record for future reference. So, a pleasant perambulation back through this garden of The Gods and then a little lunch somewhere I think.

Until next week – happy hunting.

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With special thanks this week to Michael Geiser,  Cosmin Manci and Apostolos Trichas of the  Coleoptera Group for providing me with detailed information on the various subfamilies of the Tenebrionidae Darkling beetles and also to Axel Hochkirch at The Orthopterists' Society for recognising the Mediterranean Slant-faced Grasshopper nymph and suggesting the species.

LINKS:

Naturalists (the facebook page that accompanies this blog)

Flowers of Crete;

BIRDS OF CRETE

Crete Birding

Greek Butterflies and Moths

Aquaworld Aquarium

Visit Greece (National Government Tourist Office)