Month: April 2010
Opportunist species
No-one enjoys traffic jams, that would be like looking forward to going to the dentist or hoping for higher taxes. Yet I found myself, earlier this week, supplicant before the great Gods of Traffic, asking for a jam… just a small one… in a particular place on the way to the University! Why this strangely aberrant behaviour? Well, this is a herbology blog and I wanted to get a close look at an unusual botanical success story.
In the warm spring sunshine it is easy to forget that three months ago Britain was in the grip of the coldest winter for more than a decade. Temperatures plummeted to -18 C in rural Cheshire, the University was closed for several days, and the landscape was blanketed in thick snow. Road salt was in heavy demand, and its use was concentrated on the motorways that the politicians insist oil the wheels of industry.
Three months later in the warm spring sunshine, swathes of starry white flowers have erupted along mile after mile of the M62 motorway. The story is repeated on many other motorways across the country. In some places there is almost a monoculture: white flowers stretch as far as the horizon.

The plant is Danish Scurvy Grass (Cochlearia danica), a saltmarsh species, which arrived in Britain in the Middle Ages. It is hardy and well adapted to hot, dry, and above all salty conditions. Danish Scurvy Grass flowers early in the year. It outcompetes native species in the roadside environment, where it tolerates the salt produced by gritting.

Most Scurvy Grass specimens in the herbarium collection date from the nineteenth century. They are from locations such as Hilbre Island in the Dee Estuary and show that the plant was restricted to salty coastal environments at the time. Their distribution now also mirrors the British motorway and trunk road network, taking advantage of a habitat that simply didn’t exist in the nineteenth century. This illustrates one of the many uses of herbaria, mapping the changing distributions of plant species… as described in a previous post.
Lindsey’s April walk
I pledged to enjoy the seasons changing by going for a walk every month as part of 2010:International Year of Biodiversity.
Benlech, Anglesey. Easter weekend. Spent most of the time in the wood behind the caravan site making elf houses.
This one has a path and a bench
A front door made of ivy leaves
Daisy and gorse flower garden
The bluebells are here!
Ramblings
Lindsey’s recent posts about walking make interesting reading… so I have borrowed her idea to describe a short walk in Somerset. The provisional title (which suggested itself last night in the bath), was “Not Lindsey’s walk”. That produced a chuckle, followed by the observation that I wouldn’t remember, which led along a train of thought about how to make a waterproof notebook, and then to the advisability of chuckling in the bath… but I digress.
I usually like the implication produced by a definition in the negative. Commentators commonly describe modern democracy as the “least worst system”. “Not Lindsey’s walk” sounded pretty good at first, but it doesn’t have an obvious subtext. So “Ramblings” has won the day.
The impulse to think about the world around you while walking isn’t a new one. Aristotle (384-322 BC) famously taught while walking around the Lyceum in ancient Athens. The word peripatetic describes this process and identifies disciples of the Aristotelian philosophical system. One such disciple, the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, extended Aristotle’s theories of the imagination, and it is with Coleridge, or more precisely with a statue erected in his honour, that this walk (from Watchet on the north coast of Somerset to Blue Anchor, a couple of miles to the west) begins.

The coast between Watchet and Blue Anchor provides a window into a remote geological past when ‘slimy things did crawl with legs upon the slimy sea’. The slimy things are now almost magically transformed into fossils… As well as the rocks and the fossils they contain, there are fascinating plants and animals to be seen, and who could resist a journey on a steam train?

There is a small museum on the harbour-side at Watchet, 100 metres west of the statue, which displays local fossils including a nearly complete ichthyosaur skeleton. Walking west from the museum a slipway at a gap in a row of terraced houses provides access to the beach. This is a good place to start looking for fossils. The blue-grey limestone pebbles in the bay commonly contain bivalves, and occasional mudstones preserve the spiral traces of ammonites. There are exotic foreign rocks here too, imported to provide sea defences for the town. Some of these contain fossils, but they are Carboniferous in age and not related to the local geology.

The cliffs reveal a pattern of folds and faults that illustrate the complex forces that have moulded the landscape. The oldest rocks are red, and accumulated in an ancient desert environment. Younger rocks were deposited in tidal mudflats. The youngest were laid down in warm tropical seas. The lost world they record existed 200 million years ago as the Triassic period ended and the Jurassic began. At that time, the landmass that is now the British Isles lay beneath tropical skies about 20 degrees north of the equator. The Variscan mountain range to the south and west, was gradually being worn away and by the beginning of the Jurassic period, warm shallow seas had replaced the desert.
Three quarters of the way toward Blue Anchor the character of the rocks changes and the cliffs are veined with white to salmon-pink gypsum. In the Middle Ages the gypsum deposits were worked to produce alabaster for carving and to make Plaster of Paris. The gypsum veins are exposed in the cliffs for several hundred metres before a fault throws up older orange-red Triassic rocks. These Triassic rocks, known to geologists everywhere as “Red Beds”, remain all the way to Blue Anchor.

Coastal cliffs and the seashore provide a great opportunity to wander in the hope that nature will reveal something interesting. All sorts of plants grow on the cliffs. These include grass vetchling… a truly cryptic species, which although present in great abundance does a marvellous job of disguising itself as a member of the grass family, (at least, until it flowers). There are also orchids including the exotic greater butterfly orchid.


Sea shore animals include shore crabs and nudibranchs (commonly known as sea slugs, but rather more attractive than our common garden variety). Recently, while looking at some geological specimens collected in the area I came across a very strange beast indeed… a pseudoscorpion. It will be the subject of another post, but I couldn’t resist adding a photo here!



Different people have different perspectives on nature. Rocks and fossils or plants and animals aren’t everyone’s cup of tea! But this area of Somerset has attractions that can tempt even the hardiest non-naturalist. Foremost among these is the West Somerset Railway. This runs a steam service calling at both Watchett and Blue Anchor. A particular treat is in store in September, when the newly built peppercorn class A1 Pacific steam loco Tornado is making a guest appearance on the line.

A common sense approach when visiting the locations described is important. The cliffs between Watchet and Blue Anchor are tidal and the low and high tide times should always be determined. Do not start the walk on the seashore on a rising tide as the sea always reaches the base of the cliffs!
Visit from Budapest volunteers
Just had the lovely Agnes and Elizabeth, volunteers from the Budapest Museum of Fine Art, visit us in the herbarium. Tom Petch, botany volunteer, showed them round the herbarium, and after English tea I demonstrated specimen mounting. They enjoyed having a go – and were very good at it too!
Unusual Trees to Look Out for (3)
Pinus wallichiana (Pinaceae), Bhutan Pine 165/026
This one’s named after Dr. Nathaniel Wallich (1786-1854), who was born in Copenhagen but who spent much of his life exploring the botany of northern India and nearby areas. Wallich was among the most prominent botanists of his times. He introduced the seeds of this pine into England in 1827. The tree is native to the Himalaya, Karakoram and Hindu Kush mountains, from eastern Afghanistan east across northern Pakistan and India to Yunnan in southwest China. It grows in mountain valleys at altitudes of 1800-4300m (but rarely as low as 1200m), and reaches from 30-50m in height. It likes a temperate climate with dry winters and wet summers.
Our three photographs of living trees are of specimens in Sackville Gardens in the city centre and one in a churchyard in Chorlton, Manchester.
Specimen sheet from the Grindon Herbarium
-Daniel King
Lindsey’s March walk
Spring is here! It feels different.
Mersey Vale Nature Park, Heaton Mersey, Stockport.
And lots of new growth.