Lancashire Wildlife Blogs

Two Teal were at the lake, as were  a party of five grounded Grey Wagtails. A Spotted flycatcher in the garden was a very welcome ‘garden tick’ and a juvenile Blackcap fed on the elderberries.

Donald Pleasence, The Singing Ringing Tree, Roe Deer, while maybe not a quite Trio of Terror, perhaps an Axis of Anguish.

On the right Japanese Knotweed, growing in its pristine pomp. It’s unmblemished as the Centre Court at Wimbledon before they allow so called ‘tennis players’ to trample all over it.

The difference is, of course, one is a native plant the other is an alien. All native plants have their own ‘pests and diseases’. These are organisms that have evolved alongside the plant, quite often specialising in just the one foodplant. Usually there is a balance, the plants aren’t wiped out but are kept in check by their pests.

Japanese Knotweed has its fair share of diseases in its place of origin. As an alien, on the other hand, it has no such enemies, so it grows rampantly –  an unstoppable army – the Mongol Hordes of the plant world.

This, in turn, gives the incomers a massive advantage over their homegrown rivals. The natives get out-competed.

I was struck by this contrast while on my patch walk. There were stands of the Knotweed, as well Himalayan Balsam, to which the same thing applies. Then there were sorry looking, moth eaten – literally in some cases – leaves of the natives. It’s enough to give Nigel Farage and his ilk palpitations.

These two species were intentionally  introduced in Britain around the middle of 19th century –  because of their “herculean proportions” and “splendid invasiveness”. With the benefit of hindsight this is looking like a Big Botanical Blunder.

“I got my pest-and-disease eye in”, isn’t a phrase I expect to ever need again. However, on my walk, I got my pest-and-disease eye in. I started to see all manner of leaf-mines, rusts, blights, leaf curls and little green men (just checking you’re stlll reading).

Take this morning, for example. The birding was disappointing – with none of the  hoped for passage migrants. However, now because I’m looking at everything on the patch – not just the birds, there’s always something wonderful to see. I’m viewing the place more as a whole –  a community of wildlife.

This morning  was about spiders webs. The effect of the morning light on water droplets lined along the strands of silk was stunning. Phew, I managed to avoid the overused ‘strands of pearls’ cliché.

Equally fascinating is the way that – under certain conditions – things are revealed that would otherwise go unnoticed. The abundance of ‘money spider’ webs being a case in point. In a patch of the patch, about a meter square, I counted seventy three of these silken hammocks.

Never one to pass up an opportunity to extrapolate* – I calculate that the patch total of such webs is a Big Lot (my workings for this calculation are available on request).