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Apples and Plums

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 20 Jun 2017 13:44:00 +0000

Photographing Milton Country Park for the second year running has given me the opportunity to either picture things I missed the first time around, or, hopefully, improve on my images from last year. As anyone who has photographed in the same place for any length of time will know, seasons vary tremendously from year to year.

Cherry Plums

Cherry Plums - 31 July 2016
A bumper crop this year

The mild spring and the warm and wet summer has meant a bumper crop of cherry plums. Last year, I took some pictures at an early stage when just a few plums were ripe. When I went back later, they had all disappeared. This year, to avoid the same mistake, I assiduously photographed the plums twice a week for three weeks. But I needn't have worried, as the trees were laden with fruit as the image above shows. This is far more than last year. Interestingly, the plum trees in the orchard had far fewer plums than in 2015.

Lords and Ladies

Lords and Ladies - 7 August 2016
A clump of ripe but uneaten fruit among the brambles and the ivy

Another fruit I struggled to capture last year, was the bright red berries of cuckoo pint (for some reason I think of the plant as cuckoo pint, and its fruit as lords and ladies). In 2015, all the spikes seem to be eaten as soon as they appeared. This time around, I had no problem in finding entire spikes, like the group shown here. Is this a reflection of an increase in number of berries, or that the birds, squirrels, and rabbits had plenty of other things to eat?

Apples

Ripening Apples - 28 August 2016
They may not be the forbidden fruit but their temptation is obvious

It appears that it has been a bumper year for apples as well. This cluster of large, juicy fruit was typical of all the apple trees I saw in the park. Fruit such as this make it easy to understand why the apple has become associated with the forbidden fruit in the tale of Adam and Eve and their expulsion from Eden. But the Bible does not the name the forbidden fruit, and its identity with the apple is more a product of the imagination of Renaissance painters. In fact, some would argue that the forbidden fruit could not have been an apple as it would not have been found in the Middle East at the time. However, this argument seems specious as the ecology of the surrounding countryside is generally irrelevant to the contents of a garden, particularly a paradise like Eden – just think of all the non-native plants found in modern day Eden Project in Cornwall.

In the Orchard - 28 August 2016
Apples gleam in the early morning sunshine

There is the old saying that you can't see the wood for the trees; but when it comes to photographing apples in the orchard, it seemed more a case that the camera couldn't see the fruit for the trees. I finally settled on this picture where the apples reflect the low sunlight more strongly than the surrounding leaves and stand out just that little bit.

Overhanging the path - 25 August 2016
Why is it that the best fruit is always out of reach?

In both these cases, the apples were green. On the higher boughs, where they got more sunlight, they were already turning a mouth watering red.

Apples are of course healthy. We have all heard the saying 'an apple a day keeps the doctor away', but the list of diseases the apple has been thought to cure is truly impressive, including: constipation, gout, fatigue, rheumatism, problems with the kidney or liver, anaemia and urine retention. It is said to lower cholesterol; and rubbing two halves of a sliced apple on a wart, then burying the remainder, eliminates the wart. No wonder the apple is associated with immortality.

Horse Chestnut

Young Horse Chestnut - 28 August 2016
Conkers clearly visible on this tree which so far has escaped the ravages of the leaf miner

One of the newly planted horse chestnut trees in the south of the park produced a nice crop of 'conkers', which inevitably led to my wondering why they are called conkers. The most likely explanation is they are named after the game of conquerors, which was originally played with snail shells or hazel nuts. Wikipedia lists the wonderful obblyonkers as a regional alternative name.

Fruitless

Male Hops - 21 August 2016
I have so far been unable to find any female plants with hops

I end this post with the fruit I didn't find. At the north end of the park by the Fen Road exit, I noticed a couple of trees covered with a large leafed climber with whitish-green flowers in panicles. As far as I can tell these climbers of male hop plants, and so far I have been unable to locate any female plants bearing the familiar hops anywhere in the park.

Next: Clematis and Hawthorn

Ivy

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 28 Mar 2017 17:26:00 +0000

Ivy is the elephant in the living room of the countryside: it is always there but almost completely ignored. It is not beautiful or photogenic; it is not exotic; it does not have brilliant flowers, and, its black berries are all but invisible. Yet, it is a major factor in the appearence and atmosphere of Milton Country Park.

Ivy Leaves - 22 March 2016

In parts of the park, ivy not only festoons the the trunk of every tree with a thick, shaggy green coat, it also carpets the ground beneath. Together with long tendrils hanging down from the branches, these areas take on the atmosphere of a lush forest.

Ivied Trees - 29 January 2017
The thick ivy tresses on the trunks, fill the space between the trees
making a wall of green.

Ivy and Wildlife

But is ivy a friend or a foe? Contrary to what some may think, ivy does not kill trees. It is not a parasite, and uses the trees purely for support; it derives all its nutrients from its roots. It is easy to believe that ivy is the culprit, when you see a dying tree, its crown completely infested with the plant. However, the host had to be moribund before the ivy could grow that much, as a healthy tree canopy can provide more than enough shade to deny the ivy the light it needs for photosynthesis and growth.

Ivy Tendrils - 18 September 2016
Tendrils hanging down give a tropical forest feel to the woods

Ivy is undoubtedly of great value for wildlife. Its dense foliage provides a place where birds can nest, bats can hide, and insects hibernate. Its leaves are eaten by a number of insects, including the angle shades moth. Ivy flowers are an important source of nectar at a time of year when there are few other sources. Its berries provide food for a number of birds including blackbirds, thrushes and black caps. This winter, the berries have been disappearing as soon as they are ripe.

Ivy Covered Bank - 6 February 2017
Ivy provides a thick ground cover, with leaves turning a rich red during autumn

Folklore

Ivy is rich in folk lore and mythology. Its main claim to fame is its eponymous reference in the carol 'The Holly and the Ivy'; although ivy is not mentioned at all after the first line. The holly in this carol represents Christ, the reference to ivy is probably a hangover from earlier traditions which linked the two plants. In fact, during the fifthteenth and sixteenth century there were a number of holly and ivy carols.

Ivy Tendrils - 24 February 2015
It is difficult to believe that ivy is harmless, when the whole trunk of a tree is smothered in its tendrils

In these early traditions, holly represents the male and ivy the female. Ivy would be brought into the house at Christmas as a symbol of fertility. It was thought to be bring good luck to women; and if grown on the walls of the house protect its inhabitants against witch craft. Drinking ivy vinegar was said to protect against the plague.


Ivy Flowers - 15 October 2016 Note the lanceolate shaped leaves on the flowering branches

Ivy was sacred to Bacchus, the god of wine and orgies, who wore a crown of ivy, which gave him immortality. To the Romans, ivy was also a symbol of intellect, and winners of poetry competitions were awarded a wreath of ivy.


Ivy Berries - 3 February 2017 Rich food source for birds the berries start disappearing from the bushes as soon as they are ripe

Hawthorn

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 28 Mar 2017 14:58:00 +0000

It is almost impossible to overestimate the impact that the coming of the hawthorn blossom in May has on Milton Country Park, and the surrounding countryside. Almost every hedge and innumerable bushes are thickly covered with creamy white flowers.

Hawthorn Blossom Framed by Arch of Trees. By Deep Pool - 27 May 2016

Hawthorn has been an important part of the landscape for well over a thousand years: it name is derived from the anglo-saxon 'haegthorn' meaning hedgethorn. In those times, it was not only used for hedges, but individual bushes were often important boundary markers. It is not surprising then, that over the centuries, hawthorn has gained many names, including: hedgethorn, quickthorn, whitethorn, may, beltane, and quickset. It has also attracted a great deal of folk lore.


Hedgerow Covered in Blossom. Path by Wetlands - 29 May 2016

Hawthorn is perhaps most strongly associated with the month of May, and May Day celebrations in particular. Either in the evening of April 30^th or early in the morning of the day itself, villagers would go out and gather armfuls of may to decorate their houses. This symbolised the start of the growing season and brought new life into the village.

'Knots of May' on bushes in centre of park - 22 May 2016

This is the basis of the expression 'to go a'maying', and also the origin of the rhyme 'Here we go gathering nuts in May'. Like most nursery rhymes, I had recited it endlessly, but never thought about the problem at its very heart – there are no nuts in May. Here 'nuts' refers to the 'knots' of hawthorn flowers on the branches.

But May Day is also a fertility celebration, and many who collected flowers on 30^th April would stay out all night love-making, causing a minor baby boom at this time of year. When the Christians came to claim this festival as their own, they wanted nothing to do with such ribaldry, and, instead, turned May into a month of celibacy and restraint. This has led one author to put rather a different interpretation on 'ne'er cast a clout till May is out'. He suggests that it is an instruction not to change one's clothes at all during the month. Why? Because any sign of sexual activity will be impossible to detect on such dirty and dishevelled clothes.

The Smell of Plague Comes to Milton Country Park. Centre of Park - 22 May 2016

Hawthorn has more sinister associations as well. May flowers were said to smell of plague. This is well based as one of the components of the scent is trimethylamine, which is one of the first chemicals released by rotting corpses.

More equivocally, is its association with witches. While some believed that witches rode on broomsticks made of hawthorn, others put sprigs of hawthorn over their doorways to keep the ladies out!

Drug Store or Fairy House? By Fen Road Exit - 22 May 2016

It widely believed that fairies lived in hawthorn bushes. In the ballad of 'Thomas the Rimmer', the eponymous hero is abducted by a fairy queen in a hawthorn bush and taken to a fairy kingdom, where he was kept for seven days. So the bush pictured here could be a Harry Potter-like portal to a magic place!

Hawthorn is held to be a veritable super drug store. A bath in the dew of the flowers collected on May Day brings not only a better complexion, but a healthy and lucky future too. Its leaves can be eaten, hence, 'bread and cheese' is one of its many names. Its flowers used to make white wine, and its berries used to make jelly, tea, and a liqueur when soaked in brandy. Its berries can be used effectively against artherosclerosis, hypertension and cardiac arrest!

A Bush Fit for a Crown By Dickerson's Pit - 29 May 2016

Finally, spare a thought for Richard III who had a very bad day at the office on 22nd August 1485 at the battle of Bosworth. Not only did he lose his kingdom and his life, but, also, rather carelessly left his circlet hanging around in a hawthorn bush for his enemies to find.

All this is a fairly superficial romp through the folk lore of hawthorn, of which there is a great deal more. Perhaps, you will be like me, that after reading such tales, you can never look at a hawthorn bush the same again.

I have culled these thoughts from the following sources:

Wikipaedia
Trees for Life

Plant Lore
The Old Foodie
Nature's Calendar
Ecological Flora of the Central Chilterns
Tree Lore: Hawthorn
The Practical Herbalist
Hawthorn: Bride of the Hedgerow
Mayday Lore
The Hawthorn Tree

Next : Elderflower

Using New Eyes Part 3

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 28 Mar 2017 13:37:00 +0000

"Give something a name and you think you know all about it". This sentence has stayed in my memory long after either the subject of the lecture or the name of the lecturer who delivered it have been forgotten. I remember it because there is more than a grain of truth in it. But what has it got to do with photographing Milton Country Park?

A name, as the aphorism implies, carries with it a whole baggage train of associations. These associations, both positive and negative, profoundly influence how we look at an object, our attitude towards it, and, more fundamentally, whether we notice it at all. Here are a couple of examples from plants found in the park.

By Fen Road Exit - 19 May 2015

Anthriscus sylvestris
Commonly called cow parsley. Cow has connotations of a dim, lumbering beast. It is also a derogatory term for a woman. By implication, this plant is not a fine beauty or worthy of much attention.

It is also called Queen Anne's lace. Now it is regal and associated with the fine and delicate material. I don't know for certain, but I would hazard a guess which name is used when this plant is in a Chelsea show garden. I certainly looked at, and photographed, Queen Anne's lace.

Wetlands - 6 June 2015

Leucathemum vulgare
The dog daisy. Not a plant to be admired and only fit for the dogs. A plant I can't help but apologise for liking.

As ox-eye daisy, it is far more romantic conjuring up images of dewy eye Jersey cows looking dolefully over field gates in pastoral Devon.

If it is the exotic you are looking for, look no further: L.vulgare is the moon daisy. With a name like that, who wouldn't go out of their way to find it? I did and I found it here in Milton Country Park!

All Anglo Saxon

I have been very careful throughout this blog to use traditional anglo-saxon names for the plants that I feature. This is for two reasons: firstly, because I think that the use of the latin name implies a degree of accuracy of identification that I do not want to claim; and, secondly, because traditional names sound as if they have some deep romantic meaning rooted in English folklore.

I have been doing some research into the origins of the names of some of the flowers found in the park.

South of Park - 23 August 2015

Nettle
Here is a surprise. I expected the name to be associated with its irritating sting. But it is not. Instead, the name is derived from a word meaning to sew. It is a plant from which fibres were once made and used for sewing.

Orchard - 22 August 2015

Black Horehound
Again, I was totally wrong in my assumption that the name was somehow associated with the vile smell of the leaves when they are bruised. The reference gives two possible derivations: hoary honey or a corruption of the latin Urinaria as the plant was used to treat strangury and dysuria. And the black? Because it has dark flowers.

Orchard - 19 August 2015

Toadflax
Finally, and most whimsically, toadflax, so named because of the alleged similarily of the flower to a little toad. Alternatively, because toads were said to shelter beneath the plant.

More prosaically, the flax part of the name is derived from the shape of the leaves resembling those of flax.

Queen Anne's lace
The derivation of this name is worthy of mention. The story goes that Queen Anne was touring the countryside, visiting her subjects, when she saw these flowers lining the roadside. Mistakenly, she believed that the locals had draped lace over the road verges to welcome her. Hence the name.

As a child I knew this flower as keck (used entirely in a derogatory fashion). This name apparently comes from an old English work 'keek' meaning to peep or to spy, and relates to fact that one can look through the hollow stems of the plant.

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This shows that it is all too easy to overlook the interest and the beauty in the plants around us simply because of the names we give them. It is also certain that I will never look at any of the plants mentioned in this post the same again, now I know something of the origins of the names I use for them.

Next: Meadow Flowers

Intimate Landscapes

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 28 Mar 2017 13:30:00 +0000

'Intimate Landscapes' is a term used to describe landscape photographs which depict an area of only a few square metres or less. The horizon is often absent from such photographs.

The term was first used to describe the work of Eliot Porter. Working in the 1950s and 1960s, Porter was one of the pioneers of colour landscape and natural history photographs. In photographing the American landscape, nothing was too trivial for Porter's eye. The 1979 exhibition of his work (and subsequent book of the same title) 'Intimate Landscapes' includes pictures with titles such as 'Foxtail Grass', 'Columbine Leaves', 'Long Stemmed Grasses' , and 'Raspberry Leaves and Grass'. This gives a clear indication of the nature of the work and its range both in terms of area and subject matter covered by the photographs. For further information on Eliot Porter this review gives a good introduction to his work.

Dickerson's Pit - 30 August 2015

It will come as no surprise to readers of this blog that Porter's work has been a major inspiration for my own studies in Milton Country Park. I have already published quite a number of intimate landscapes so far in this blog. In this post, I want to highlight my use of the genre to create images of flowers in their environment such as the example above. Here water mint can be seen flowering on the eastern bank of Dickerson's Pit amongst the nettles and brambles surrounding a muddy inlet (seen in the middle on the right of the picture).

Todd's Pit - 30 June 2015

My second example of hedge parsley growing alongside the path on the western side of Todd's Pit highlights another characteristic of many of my intimate landscapes: the use of a very low viewpoint. By getting down to within a few centimetres of the ground, I can give stature and importance to fairly humble plants.

Dickerson's Pit - 2 August 2015

My third example was taken on the bank of the inlet on the western shore of Dickerson's Pit. This was one of only two clumps of montbretia in the park, both of which were within 20 metres of each other. My first attempt at this image was foiled when my pet labrador ate the subject!

Hall's Pond - 6 September 2015

The bracket fungus in this image are growing on some of the logs floating in Hall's Pond. The photograph was taken from above and the green background between the logs is duckweed.

Dickerson's Pit - 19 August 2015

For the picture above, I have returned to a spot on the eastern edge of Dickerson's Pit where I have already photographed yellow irises (After the May Flower) and purple loosestrife (Summer Flowers). This time, I have focused on the hogweed growing nearer the path.

Some authors have suggested that the horizon should not be visible in an intimate landscape. However, as here, with a low viewpoint, the sky can be visible without the overall area covered by the image being very large.

Todd's Pit - 17 June 2015

Another feature of the intimate landscape is that it highlights the complexity of the environment at this scale. In this picture, there are at least another five different plant species beside the dog daisy in an area no larger than six square metres. In a future post on intimate landscapes, I will be looking at using this technique to document plant communities.

Next: Late Summer Flowers

A Foggy Day

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 21 Mar 2017 18:55:00 +0000

February 5 was the first seriously foggy day we have had for many months. Although the fog did not penetrate the woody areas of Milton Country Park, it was sufficiently thick to obscure the opposite banks of the major pits in the park.


Jetty - 5 February 2017 The trees on the opposite bank are barely visible

Fog is a thief of vision. It drains the landscape of colour and detail, leaving only the vaguest of details looming in the grey light. I notice that the dictionary definition of loom is to appear indistinct and in an enlarged form. Is this because the eye has nothing else to fix on in the monotonous gloom, and fills the space with anything it can discern?


View of a Bridge - 5 February 2017 One of the bridges between Deep Water and Dickerson's Pit

The photograph above and the one below were both taken from the end of the jetty looking towards Deep Water.

Dickerson's Pit - 5 February 2017

In this second image, there is a hint of colour in the reeds in the foreground.

Birds in the Mist - 5 February 2017
Cormorant on island in middle of Dickerson's Pit

Loom has connotations of menace. The featureless landscape becomes disorientating, and the silence, so often a feature of thick fog without any wind, can be disconcerting. The smallest sound is magnified - a bird's warning cry becomes a siren, as the mind invents what it can't detect.

What I hadn't appreciated before is how white objects appear so luminous in the gloom. In the middle of Dickerson's Pit, between the end of the jetty and the opposite shore, there are a couple of small islands. Even with some image intensification, this cormorant on a branch on one of these islands, is only just discernible. In contrast, the white gulls behind seem to positively glow.

Looking South Down Dickerson's Pit - 5 February 2017

Moving around, this photograph is a long view down Dickerson's Pit. Like the previous image, the swan and the white gulls stand out in the gloom.

Reeds - 5 February 2017

To an extent, fog is the photographer's friend: in blanketting out anything except the foreground, it can leave the subject of the picture isolated against a background of studio simplicity.

Next: Sprat-Weather

Sprat-Weather

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 11 Mar 2017 07:05:00 +0000

Sprat-weather - fisherman's slang for those dark depressing days of late autumn and early winter when it never seems to get properly light. It seems such weather is good for catching sprats; perhaps the fish suffer from SAD and lose the will to live. On that basis, December should have been an exceptional month for sprat fishing. Almost every day was damp, and gloomy with a biting cold wind penetrating the thickest of coats.

Dark Days - 13 December 2016
Sun reflecting in a muddy inlet off Dickerson's Pit

For me, this first image captures the mood of the whole depressing spell, a dark muddy patch of water reflecting a small rare glimpse of the sun.

Frosty Cheer - 8 November 2016
The frost provides little more than a white backdrop to the colourful leaf

Enough of the gloom and a whole lot more cheerful picture! It has not all been grey murk. There have been spells of bright frosty weather, although there have been none of those gloriously pretty winter mornings when all the trees are covered in rime. At most, only the table tops, the grass and the low growing vegetation in the more open parts of the park have been covered in rime. This picture was taken on the first frosty day of the season at the beginning of November. The brightness of such sunny mornings more than make up for the cold.

Moss on a Precipice - 8 November 2016
Again the frost brightens up the picture

I love the way a photograph can remove any sense of scale, and literally make a mountain out of a molehill (or vice versa). In this case, the moss growing on one of the planks of a table top is left teetering on the edge of a precipice.

Frost Candyfloss - 5 December 2016
The brown of the dead grass at the base of the plant, and
the colour of the trees in the background, underline how little
was affected by the frost.

A further brief frosty spell at the beginning of December, painted the grass and low growing vegetation with a veneer of ice, and left this plant looking like a stick of white candy floss.

Winter Jasmine in the Sensory Garden - 2 January 2017
This winter jasmine climbs over the gate to the sensory garden

With most of the trees now bare, the only bright colours in the park were to be found in the garden. The bright yellow of the winter jasmine climbing over the gateway to the sensory garden bringing some much needed good cheer to the day.

Dogwood - 2 January 2017
The bright yellow and reds of the dogwood,
eclipse the copper beech

In the garden opposite, the dogwood stood out brightly against the dull copper of the beech hedge and very muted greens and browns of the bushes and trees behind.

Fungi

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 28 Jan 2017 06:42:00 +0000

Over the last couple of months, I have been hunting for fungi in Milton Country Park, with more success than I had expected. Fungi are neither numerous nor prominent in the park and I have only ever seen the odd one or two in the years I have been visiting there. But a fairly determined search during December and January revealed quite a few specimens, mostly small and mostly growing on trees or rotting wood. The restricted habitat in which I found the fungi may simply reflect the time of year, and there may well be more mushrooms and toadstools in the park at other times of year, which I have simply overlooked.

Jelly Ear Fungus - 18 December 2016
This fungus is said to be the tormented spirit of Judas Iscariot trying to escape

I feel I should attempt to identify my findings. However, I am no mycologist, and a quick trawl through the relevant sites on the net quickly persuaded me that any names I put to the fungi were unlikely to be accurate. So, instead, I have used vernacular and generic terms, which may still be wrong, but, because of their imprecision, are unlikely to seriously mislead anyone.

Bracket Fungus - 13 January 2017

Fungi occupy a shadowy in between position in the natural world, neither plant nor animal. Many, including myself, may see them more as plants without chlorophyll; but, there are larger differences which dictate they are classified in a separate kingdom.

Bracket Fungus - 13 January 2017
Old bracket fungus now providing a suitable surface for moss to grow on

In some ways, they occupy a similar position in mythology and folklore: of this world, but part of the unseen world of fairies, gnomes and goblins. There are plenty of general, unspecific, references to the importance of fungi in folklore, without any details being given. The one exception, are fairy rings, which I have not seen in Milton Country Park.

Bracket Fungus on Floating Log - 22 January 2017
The largest fungus I found in the Country Park
Like trees, fungi add growth rings each growing season
On that basis, I reckon these specimens are over ten years old.

I did find one fungus in the park that has folklore attached: the Jelly Ear fungus. The Bible relates that Judas Iscariot hanged himself from an elder tree in shame after betraying Jesus. This ear-like fungus, which is found on elder, was thought to be the tormented spirit of Judas trying to escape. It was originally name Judas's Ear, which was later shortened to Jew's Ear - a name that has now fallen of favour because of its anti-semitic overtones.

Stag's Horn Fungus - 22 January 2017
Also known as the Candlesnuff Fungus because it glows in the dark
However, its bioluminescence is so feeble, in these days of light pollution, an image intensifier is needed to see it

Most of the fungi that I found were bracket fungi, a group of fungi of many different genera that grow on trees and are of a similar shape. There are both saprophytic and parasitic members in the group, the latter of which will prove fatal for the host tree. Bracket fungi are long lived and specimens at least twenty years old and weighing up to three hundred pounds have been reported.

Toadstools - 10 April 2016

I have found three types of fungus which are not bracket fungus: one - the stag's horn fungus which was growing on a rotten tree stump; while the other two appeared to be free living.

In April last year, I had come across a clump of toadstools breaking through the soil. Two derivations are suggested for the name 'toadstool': one from the German 'tod' - death, and 'stuhl' - stool; the other based on a belief in the Middle Ages that, as they were poisonous, they were associated with toads.


Among the Leaf Mould - 22 December 2016

Finally, I found this tiny toadstool growing among the rotting leaves. My first reaction was that it was immature, but clearly its fruiting body is fully developed, and this must be its final size.

Mites Eggs

Mites Eggs - 22 January 2017

While photographing some fungi on a fallen twig, I noticed small white dots on a nearby fallen leaf. I assumed that this was some form of fungi. The photograph reveals that each white dot, about the size of a pinhead, is attached to the leaf by a very slender stalk. After further research, I have concluded that these are in fact mites' eggs. I went back two days later to try to get a better photograph, but by then wind, rain, and passing animals had disturbed the leaves, and the affected leaf was lost.

Last Fruit, First Shoots

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 14 Jan 2017 06:20:00 +0000

Entirely appropriately for a post published in January, this article looks back at the last seeds and fruit of the old year, and the first green shoots of the plants which will eventually flower in the spring of the new year.

Cabaret de Oiseaux - 2 January 2017
The dawning sun on a new day in a new year provides
a suitably dramatic backdrop to the seed heads of teasels from last year.

Cabaret des Oiseaux (or more prosaically teasel)

What a wonderful name for a plant – a spectacle of birds – if my schoolboy French is correct. With a name like that doesn't the plant look even more majestic, and can't you just see a cloud of goldfinches feasting on the seed heads? It presumably gets this name from the birds feasting on its seed heads.

Besides that name, the English 'teasel', or 'gypsy comb', or 'brush and comb', sound functional and unimaginative, all derived from the use of the seed head to tease or raise the nap of woollen cloth. Somehow, such names drain the plant of its stature and becomes just another brown plant with an industrial use. Yet, in this most drab time of year, the teasels are impressive, standing very upright, seeming to challenge the weather to do its worst and blow them down.

Tall and majestic - 11 December 2016
A group of teasel plants stand proud against the skyline.

Teasels are not widespread in Milton Country Park, but a couple of clumps in the Orchard are particularly noticeable as they are growing on top of a small bank, where these photographs were taken.

Burdock

Burdock Fruit - 5 January 2017
Non-descript brown fruit easily overlooked, not so easily picked off clothing.

Burdock is another plant whose fruit are conspicuous at this time of the year, although not necessarily for the right reasons. They attach themselves with their natural Velcro to anything and everything that passes.

Unlike teasel, burdoch has attracted a host of imaginative English names besides burdock (bur a knot of wool, and dock a plant). Along with Herrif, Airup or Aireve, derived from Anglo Saxon and mean hedge robber, other names include: personata, happy major, clot bur, fox's clote, beggars buttons, cockle bur, Robin Hood's rhubarb, and love's leaves. These last two referring to the shape of its leaves.

Burdoch first featured in this blog in September and at that time, I mentioned that it was the inspiration for Velcro, and its use for dandelion burdock cordial. But there is more to burdock in folklore than a zip and a drink.

Firstly, there is burryman: a man completely covered in burdock burrs who parades the streets of South Queensferry, Lothian, on the second Friday in August every year. The origin and reasons for this ritual, which is credited with being at least seven hundred years old and may be well be thousands of years old, have been forgotten, and we are left with theories ranging from warding off evil spirits to bringing luck for the forthcoming herring fishing season.

Secondly, burdock has been used medicinally for a wide range of conditions including skin problems, rheumatism, and cancer. It is also a liver tonic and a diuretic.

Finally, and a little whimsically, knights in the middle ages rode into battle wearing a sprig of burdock for protection!

Gelder Rose and a Hint of Autumn

Gelder Rose Berries - 20 December 2016
The bright red berries are almost lost among the surrounding branches

At this time of year, the trees are bare, and most of the berries have fallen or been eaten by the birds, the remaining berries give the bushes a hint of autumn, an ephemeral blush of red, a barely discernible shimmy of colour. In strong sunlight, at a distance, the bush looks quite red, but close up the fruit are few and far between and overwhelmed by the bare brown branches.

So it was with these gelder rose berries, visible at a distance as a faint reddening of the hedge, closer up there were just enough, and were bright enough, to catch the eye.

Last Apples

Last Apples - 11 December 2016
A few apples still hanging on high in the branches of this tree

I was really surprised to find any apples at all still on the tree, but, as this image shows, high up in one tree there was still quite a crop. A fact that speaks volumes for the mild and benign autumn that we have had.

First Shoots

Comfrey - 28 December 2016
Comfrey plants have already grown enough to be clearly visible
above the leaf litter.

On a grey December day, walking on a carpet of fallen leaves, among trees with bare branches, and no colour anywhere, it is easy to believe that nature has shut down, gone to bed, for the winter. Yet, already, there are plenty of signs of spring in the park. Plants like this patch of comfrey are easily visible above the layers of dead leaves. Also much in evidence are young cow parsley seedlings, each a couple of inches high. They will remain almost dormant, growing only very slowly throughout the winter, until April or May, when they seem to grow four feet in a matter of days, and cover the countryside with white frothy flowers.

Spring in Autumn - 28 December 2016

Look more closely at the leaf litter and it is not hard to spot much smaller seedlings, with just two or four leaves, pushing their way up. It is difficult to believe that these plants, so small and tender, will survive the frost and snow of winter and blossom next spring.

More Autumn

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 24 Dec 2016 06:22:00 +0000

The End of Autumn - 14 December 2016
The colours are autumnal, the bare trees wintry.

There are at least three common definitions of autumn. The first, and the one I grew up with, is the astronomical definition of autumn as lasting from the autumn equinox (September 21) to the winter solstice (December 21). The second, meteorological definition, defines autumn as lasting from September 1 to November 30. The third simply asserts that autumn is the period between summer and winter.

I like this third definition, because it is fuzzy, and natural systems have fuzzy boundaries. I think of autumn as the time when trees lose their leaves; plants die back; and fruit and seeds ripen and are harvested. It is the period between the lush greens of summer decorated with colourful flowers and the drab browns of bare earth and branches of winter. A period of transition without any limiting dates.

Late Fall - 22 December 2016
A single green leaf recently fallen from a hazel bush
contrasts the the dark browns and blacks of the rotting leaves around.

December, when most of the photographs in this post were taken, is clearly at the end of autumn, if not actually in winter, by any of these definitions. It also contains one of the turning points of the year: the winter solstice, after which, the days will grow longer, and eventually start to warm up.

In the countryside, while there is still much evidence of autumn, the scenery is increasingly taking on the drab and bare appearance of winter; not withstanding the occasional glimpse of spring.

A Touch of Spring - 11 December 2016
Bright hazel catkins, with alder catkins behind, bring a feeling of spring to the park.

Certainly, in December 2016, there still much of the feel of autumn in Milton Country Park, but at the same time winter is beginning to appear. The reeds around the pits in are an autumnal golden brown, and there are still a few leaves left on the trees, whose mainly bare branches speak of winter. The thick carpet of dead leaves on the ground have turned from yellow to a deep rich brown darkening into black as decomposition gathers pace. In contrast, emerging hazel catkins bring a real spring-like feel to the park, especially when they sparkle in the early morning sun.

Goose Summer

Goose Summer - 1 December 2016
Fallen leaves floating on still blue water on a clear bright 'Goose Summer' day

'Goose summer ' is an old term for spells of fine weather during autumn; the name referencing the custom of eating geese during the autumn after they had been fattened in the previous months. It was during one such spell, that I came across this mass of leaves floating on calm water. A scene that, for me, sums up such weather and that 'Goose Summer' seems the perfect title.

'Goose summer' later was contracted to 'gossamer', and eventually lost its connection to the weather, and, instead, used to refer to dew covered spider's webs which are visible on clear, cold, autumn days. But, the loss of goose summer, like its opposite 'sprat weather' (dark, damp, miserable, late autumn days when it barely gets light), leaves the English language the poorer.

Drowned Leaves - 22 December 2016
Fallen leaves decorate the roots and concrete rubble at the bottom of the lake

As the season progresses, the floating leaves become saturated and fall to the bottom of the water where they can still be seen decorating the rubble and roots.

Brambles


Colourful Brambles - 18 November 2016 Not necessarily noted for their contribution to autumn colours this bank of brambles presents a colourful sight

One plant that does not immediately spring to mind when autumn colours are mentioned is the humble bramble. Yet, although, not all bushes change colour, those that do can be quite spectacular, with individual leaves turning a brilliant red that is as bright as anything that more renowned trees, such as maple, can offer.

Bramble Leaves - 11 December 2016
Some bramble leaves turn a vibrant and intense red in autumn

Happy Christmas

This is my last post of 2016, so thank you for taking the time to read this blog, and hope you will continue to do so in 2017. Merry Christmas and a happy New Year.

Next: Last Fruit, First Shoots

Autumn Leaves 2016

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 10 Dec 2016 06:20:00 +0000

Poplar Leaves - 2 November 2016
When on the tree, the yellow and red leaves would have been admired;
on the ground, the range of colours is actually increased.

We all admire the brilliantly coloured leaves of autumn while they are still on the tree. But when they fall off the tree, onto the ground, our attitude changes; their beauty is forgotten and we see them only as a nuisance. They make our streets and gardens untidy; they block the drains; and, they form a slippery layer on the railway lines, stopping the trains running to time. All that is left is to collect them up, and either burn them or put them in the rubbish; except for gardeners, who use the dead leaves for compost.

Contrasting Leaves - 8 November 2016
The maple leaf contrasts strongly with the surrounding oak leaves
in colour, shape and texture.

But there is still plenty of visual interest in the leaves as they rot away on the ground. While the vibrant colours remain for a few days at least after the leaves have fallen, the range of colours is increased, not only by browns, dark purples, and blacks of the decomposing leaves, but also by different coloured leaves from adjacent trees. Similarly, there are strong contrasts in shape and texture when a leaf from one tree falls on the leaves from a different type of tree.

Why Leaves Turn Red and Yellow

Fallen Leaves - 8 November 2016
Most of the colour of dead leaves derives from the breakdown of chlorophyll
unmasking yellow and orange pigments already present.

The process by which a living green leaf, producing sugar and oxygen from sunlight and air, turns bright red or yellow, and eventually falls to earth and rots away, starts when the length of the night exceeds a certain value. The tree then builds a barrier between the leaf and the rest of the tree, cutting the leaf off from nutrients absorbed through the roots, and tree from the sugar created in the leaf. As a result the green chlorophyll pigment decays, and exposes the yellow and orange colours of the xanthophylls and carotenoids normally present in the leaf.

Maple Leaves - 8 November 2016
Red pigmentation develops after the leaf is already dying.
What is the advantage to the tree?

Interestingly, the red colours come from a third group of pigments, the anthocyanins, which are only synthesised when the leaf is dying. It is not entirely clear what the advantage to the tree is to have red leaves in autumn. Theories include: to warn off aphids which might want to use the tree as an overwinter host; to undermine the camouflage of herbivores; or, to attract birds to the tree to eat berries which may otherwise be overlooked. The anthocyanins in maple leaves have been shown to stunt the growth of any nearby saplings.

The Weather For It

The best display of autumn colour is produced when a moist growing season is followed by a dry autumn with sunny days and cool, but not frosty nights. Heavy rain, gales and frost are all likely to bring a premature end to the display.

Folklore, Legend and Medicine

Oak Leaves - 8 November 2016
With a mass of leaves like this, it is easy to see why the Lakota believed
they had been dropped as a protective blanket.

Fallen leaves, though such a prominent feature of the countryside in their season, do not feature greatly in folklore. They have been associated with fairies, with a swirl of leaves believed to be evidence of fairies dancing. Catching a falling leaf, particularly at the beginning of autumn, is said to protect the catcher from illness, or, more specifically, colds, throughout the winter.

But, perhaps, the most charming legend is that of the Lakota American Indians. The god who looks after living creatures saw the suffering of the plants and flowers as they shivered in the increasing cold of Autumn. Feeling sorry for them, the deity ordained that the trees should shed their leaves over the earth as a blanket to keep the plants warm. In return, the trees were allowed one great last blaze of glory.

I could find no reference to any medicinal use of fallen leaves. However, a Finnish company is developing the technology to extract natural pigments from the leaves for use in the clothing and cosmetic industries. The residual biomass is high in nutrients with possible uses as a fertiliser.

Next: More Autumn

Autumn 2016

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 26 Nov 2016 05:29:00 +0000

The Golden Season - 8 November 2016
Autumn in golden in Milton Country Park
Here the trees in Remembrance Meadow are all turning yellow

Autumn is nature's siren, using its beauty to lure us into the misery of winter. It is living proof that you can say anything with a smile on your face: this attractive season of reds and yellows presages nothing but wind, rain, snow, ice and darkness. Yet we love it! It is a beautiful woman with a dagger behind her back.

Poplar Trees Catch the Morning Sun - 2 November 2016
Poplars are one of the first trees to change colour
Here a group shine gold in the morning sun.

And why are we so keen to see the back of green leaves? Admittedly, by October the green has become rather dull and tired, the flowers, except for a few stragglers, have gone, and the countryside is generally untidy. But the green is the green of chlorophyll, and without chlorophyll there would be no oxygen, and with no oxygen, we could not live.

'Copper' Oak - 18 November 2016
This oak catches the eye with its copper coloured leaves
In mid-November, the oaks are perhaps the most colourful trees in the park

Autumn is famously the season of 'mists and mellow fruitfulness'. It may be climate change, but mists have been very few and far between in the eighteen of so months I have been writing this blog. Similarly, by mid-autumn most of the apples, plums and pears have disappeared from the trees and bushes. Though, in a mild autumn like this one, there are still a lot of hawthorn berries on the bushes. Presumably, the birds have been able to find plenty of food elsewhere.

A Winter Larder - 18 November 2016
With a mild autumn, there are still plenty of berries of the bushes for the birds when they need them

The photographs for this post have all been taken in the first half of November. At this time, while the poplars and the sycamores have turned yellow, there are still some trees and bushes that have barely changed colour at all: the willows and brambles are still quite green. In contrast, one oak tree in Remembrance Meadow has lost all but a couple of its leaves; an early reminder of what is to come.


Goodbye to Summer - 8 November 2016 Last few leaves left hanging on this oak tree, yet still only early November

In contrast, these willow trees on the banks of Todd's Pit were taken just two days earlier:

Willow Bank - 6 November 2016
Still plenty of green leaves on these willow trees on the bank of Todd's Pit

Next: Autumn Leaves 2016

Reeds

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 12 Nov 2016 08:50:00 +0000

Deep Pool - 3 July 2016
Single reeds have a simple elegance.

This project to document Milton Country Park through the year is based on three assumptions.

Firstly, I believe that any natural, or semi natural environment, not matter how ordinary, banal, or familiar it may seem, is worthy of attention.

Secondly, any semi natural environment (there are very few truly natural environments left in England) is to be valued for what it offers, and not dismissed because of its lack of dramatic scenery, or noteworthy and endangered plants and animals. For most people, more exotic and dramatic locations bring excitement for perhaps a fortnight a year; it is in the local neighbourhood that one can enjoy nature for the other 300 odd days a year.

Thirdly, that a photographer with sufficient skill and imagination, and given the right conditions, should be able to produce interesting, if not beautiful images of such places. Edward Weston's pictures of Port Lobos and Eliot Porter's intimate landscapes of New England have been particularly inspirational to me.

Wetlands - 11 September 2016
Flower heads of the common reed shine in the early morning sun

This brings me to the subject of this week's post: reeds (I use the word loosely for any plant that that has lanceolate leaves and grows by the water). I admit that I find these plants neither interesting nor visually appealing. A search on the net did not unearth any particularly interesting facts: no witches, fairies, goblins, spells or miracle cures; just practical uses in thatching, water cleansing and floor covering for churches. So, in many ways, to write a post on the subject of reeds illustrated with interesting photographs is a good test of the ideas I outlined above.

Dickerson's Pit - 3 August 2016
Reeds are important to the appearance of the park

But reeds are important both to the ecology and to the appearance of the park. With over 2000 metres of water's edge to colonise, plus the majority of the wetland area, there are a lot of reeds in Milton Country Park.

Soft Rush - 26 June 2016

Visually, isolated plants have a certain elegance as shown in the image at the top of this post. With back lighting, the flower heads of the common reed are a dramatic sight. And in the fading evening light, I found the semi-circle of circle of rushes in shallow water just away from the bank made an attractive scene.

Branched Bur Weed - 7 July 2016

As mentioned above, I have used the term 'reed' very loosely. I now recognise there are at least five different plants involved. The commonest of which are the common reed, Phragmites australis; the soft rush, Juncus effusus; and yellow irises, Iris pseudocaris. The latter is definitely not a reed, but included here because of the shape of its leaves.

Greater Spearwort - 7 Jully 2016

In one small inlet off Dickerson's Pit, I found two other plants. One was branched bur-reed, Spharganium erectum, which looks like a model of a chemical formula found in a schools science laboratory. In the same short stretch, I was surprised by some large yellow flowers among the reeds, which on investigation proved to be greater spearwort, Ranunculus lingua.

I certainly have not unearthed any earth shattering facts or created world beating photographs, but what I have found and the images I have made do nothing to dissuade me that even the most unpromising material is worth close attention.

Clematis and Hawthorn

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 22 Oct 2016 17:49:00 +0000

This is the second post about fruits and berries in Milton Country Park.

Clematis

Clematis vitalba - 21 September 2016
Its similarity to an old man's beard is striking

Clematis vitalba has colonised a number of the trees and bushes in the north of the park. In many cases, the climber has completely swamped its host, and, as in this picture, very little of the supporting tree or bush is visible, behind a bank of the invader. The appropriateness of its common name, old man's beard, is very obvious when a mass of its seed heads like this are seen.

Flowering clematis - 31 July 2016
Tree completely covered in clematis flowers.

This plant is also commonly known as traveller's joy. This name, that has been in use since at least the 16th Century, refers to the bright and cheerful display its seeds make during the sombre autumn months. Although small greeny white flowers are quite showy, they do not have the impact of later fruit.

Clematis flowers - 24 July 2016
The flowers are unusual in that they have no petals.

The most unusual feature of the flowers is that they have no petals; the petal like structure that can be seen in this picture are sepals. Maybe not that surprising in the wild plants, but, far more so in the cultivated plants with their huge multicoloured sepals.

Clematis and brambles - 12 September 2016
Like scavengers fighting over a corpse, brambles and clematis vie for dominance

One of the things I have become increasingly interested in is plant communities and how plants compete for space and light. In this picture, it is hard to know what is buried below the smothering mass of brambles and clematis.

Hawthorn

Clematis and hawthorn - 11 September 2016
Contrasting seeds of hawthorn and clematis

Given the number of hawthorn bushes in the park, it is not surprising that some have been invaded by clematis. I found the contrast of the small dense berries of the hawthorn and the fluffy white seeds of the clematis quite striking.


Hawthorn - 12 September 2016 Hawthorn bush with a good crop of berries

What a difference a year makes! Last year, I worked hard to find any hawthorn bush with more than a few berries. This year, every bush, like the one in this picture, was laden with them.

Rose Hips

Rose Hips - 12 September 2016
Easily missed amongst the mass of hawthorn berries

Almost totally lost amongst all the millions of hawthorn berries in the park are few dog roses with their bright orange red hips. I spotted these on a bush at the north of the park.

I was surprised how little folk lore and herbal medicine is attached to this plant. Its medicinal use seems to be confined to use as a source of vitamins, particularly vitamin C, when a syrup is made from the hips.

Perhaps, the most intriguing bit of folk lore I came across is the Indian belief that if fairies ate rose hips and turned three times counter clockwise, they became invisible. Eat the rose hips again, and turn three times clockwise, and, hey presto, the fairies become visible again.

The rose has also been a symbol of silence since the early Egyptians. Any matters discussed under a rose were in strict confidence. This led to the custom of carving roses on the ceiling of banquetting halls to remind guests that any conversations were not to be repeated outside of the hall.

Next: Reeds

Trees From Tip To Toe

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 25 Jul 2015 07:32:00 +0000

Walking around Milton Country Park inevitably involves walking along tree lined paths. I wanted to capture the trees in the park while the green of their leaves had the freshness of spring, before turning the tired dusty bluish hue of later in the summer.

Path at Western Edge of Todd's Pit 17 June 2015

The path along the western side of Todd's Pit is typical of many paths in the park. The path is turned almost into a tunnel by the interlocking branches above, from which the bluey green foliage of the willow rises like a plume of smoke. Below there are extremes of light and shade where the sunlight breaks through between the trees.

In the Canopy

The first image in this post emphasises how much vegetation there is above head height along the paths. Yet, very seldom does anybody look up at the canopy where the foliage looks very different from that at lower levels.

Canopy by Hall's Pond 12 June 2015

One aspect of this that I had not fully appreciated until recently, is that each tree has it own bit of sky that is not invaded by the leaves and branches of the surrounding trees. This image, which clearly shows the rivers of sky between the trees, is an image of the personal space of a tree!

Middle Path 6 June 2015

In this photograph the silvery green of willow leaves catching the sunlight contrasts in both colour and shape with the oak and maple leaves of nearer trees that are in the shade.

Going Down

Scroll down this image to follow these trees from the canopy to ground level.

Path at Eastern Edge of Dickerson's Pit 17 June 2015

I think the most impressive, and probably the tallest, trees in the park line the path alongside the eastern edge of Dickerson's Pit. This photograph of that path just north of the 13th Public Drain at least begins to give some sense of the height of these trees and how they dwarf everything and everybody below. The only way I could get the full length of these trees into a single image was by taking a series of images at different heights and stitching them together.

At Ground Level

By Dickerson's Pit 30 June 2015

Much, much, shorter are these old, ivy encrusted, willow trees bent over an earth bank on the western edge of Dickerson's Pit.

In the Woods

North of Todd's Pit 30 June 2015

Finally, in the woods, the ivy clad tree trunks, some leaning slightly to the right, are like an army trampling over the undergrowth. Totally dominant. It is images like this that remind me why I find something sinister in so many woods.

When I started this blog, my major concern was whether or not I could find enough images to populate a post twice a month with at least four images. So far, my fears have been proved totally groundless. Groundless, to the point that at the end of July I still have not finished with spring. Just so that this blog is not so far behind what is happening on the ground, I am going put an extra post of more spring flowers next Saturday. The post after that will then deal with the late June blossoming of elderflower and wild roses, and bring spring to a close.

NEXT: AFTER THE MAY FLOWER

Using New Eyes

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 18 Jul 2015 07:00:00 +0000

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes

Marcel Proust

Proust's thought lies at the very heart of my project. It runs through my work like 'Blackpool' in a stick of rock. For whatever else, I am on a journey of discovery taking fresh eyes to a very familiar landscape. It is a journey filled with pleasure, as there is always a great sense of satisfaction in finding something new in ones own backyard.

But what does it actually mean to 'have new eyes'? What practical steps should I take to see the world, or at least Milton Country Park, in a way I have never seen it before?


South Side of Dickerson's Pit 23 April 2015

One school of thought proposes that I need that I need to shed all preconceptions about the world and look at it as a child. I find this advice impossible to follow. I cannot by conscious effort forget everything I remember, or unlearn everything I have learnt. However hard I try, when I see a tree like the one shown above, I see a tree complete with a lifetimes worth of associations. I will name that tree and with the name will come ideas on the shape of the tree and its leaves, the insect life that may live on it, and the birds that may nest in it. Involuntarily, my view of the tree will be affected by great paintings or photographs I have seen of trees. Can I ever look at a conifer and not think of Vincent Van Gogh? Or more up to date, having seen Hockney's masterpieces, can I ever look at a tree the same again?

But I do not think that preconceptions are the problem in making images of our own neighbourhood. I think of far more relevance is that unless something changes, any familiar environment simply does not register on the brain. How many times have you walked around your local streets to find some building has been demolished, and realise that for the life of you, you cannot remember what was there before? It is the proverbial 'part of the furniture'.

Path West of Todd's Pit 15 May 2015

In my case, it means I have got to see Milton Country Park beyond tree lined paths around water filled gravel pits. It is symptomatic of my inattention to my surroundings that before I started I wanted to reassure myself that I had enough material to maintain this blog. To that end, I listed all the things I thought worth photographing in the park. This initial list had just twelve items. What is perhaps even more pertinent, that the twelve items on the list were things I had photographed in the past. If I hadn't photographed it, either I hadn't noticed it, or had forgotten it.

Hawthorn by Fen Road Entrance 15 May 2015

I remembered the yellow irises but not the ground ivy; the purple loosestrife (now gone) but not the comfrey; the hawthorn but not the horse chestnut. I have never before noticed the green alkanet, yet the amount of this plant in the park suggests it has been there for some years. I took interest in the bridges, but not the tree lined paths, which all look just the same, and are devoid of any interest!


Green Alkanet By Childrens' Play Area 30 April 2015

So far as this project is concerned, first and foremost, I simply need to really look at what is there. I need to use my camera as Dorothea Lange implied when she said: ' a camera is a tool for learning how to see without a camera'.

Path North of Todd's Pit 5 April 2015

It is precisely this that I have been doing very productively for the last five months. The bush shown above is a good illustration: not only have I not seen the bush before, I had never walked that particular path before. I am finding that the more I look the more I find. I have a 'shooting list' a lot longer than 12 items, with whole areas, like the wetlands, or Tomkins Mead still to explore in any detail.

It is one of my fundamental aims to show that the 'ordinary' English countryside, as typified by Milton Country Park, contains a great deal of interest and beauty for those prepared to look.

In the next part of this short series, I will look at how our mental library of archetypal good photographs can restrict our imagination.

NEXT: TREES FROM TIP TO TOE

May

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 11 Jul 2015 17:53:00 +0000

It is May, and, once again, Milton Country Park turns white. This time with hawthorn blossom.

By Hall's Pond 20 May 2015

In the centre of the country park, between Hall's Pond and Todd's Pit, the lower branches of this hawthorn bush are almost silhouetted against the sun drenched blossom behind.

By Hall's Pond 20 May 2015

Just a few yards from the previous image, is a typical country park scene in hawthorn blossom time. The path is overhung with branches weighed down by the blossom.

Although these two pictures were taken just a few yards apart, similar scenes could have been found almost anywhere in the park.

Todd's Pit 15 May 2015

For instance, this close up of the blossom was taken of a bush growing through the fence that lines the western side of Todd's Pit.

The Weather Changes Everything

By Hall's Pond 19 May 2015

As impressive as the previous images are, the blossom had been even more dazzling just a couple of days before. This scene was shot in the same central area, but this time nearer Dickerson's Pit. Heavy rain showers the previous day had damaged the flowers, whose petals now covered the ground in this clearing like confetti.

Cow Parsley Too

By Fen Road Entrance 19 May 2015

Hawthorn blossom is not the only blossom turning the park white. A field besides the path leading to Fen Road is a sea of cow parsley, which out shines the hawthorn in the background.

In The Woods

North End of Park 20 May 2015

Neither is the cow parsley confined to the open spaces. There is plenty growing beneath the trees in the woody area at the north end of the park.

Additional Posts

Up until now I have updated this blog twice a month. From now on, I intend to publish occasional extra posts. These extra posts will be notes on issues I have come up against in making this blog. Initially, I plan to write a series of posts on the difficulties of photographing in a familiar environment and the need for 'using new eyes'.

So the next post, on 18 July 2015, will be the first of the above mentioned series on using new eyes. Then, on 25 July 2015, I will publish a post continuing the story of the park through the year. This latter post will look at trees in the park in summer.

Correction

In my previous post, I identified the flower in this picture as borage. It is, in fact, green alkanet (Pentaglottis sempervirens).

NEXT: USING NEW EYES

Apple Blossom Time

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 27 Jun 2015 17:44:00 +0000

Late April, early May is apple blossom time in Milton Country Park.

Apple Blossom 28 April 2015

I think young apple blossom, with its pink buds and light pink petals, is one of the prettiest tree blossoms.

Missing Images

Writing this blog in retrospect gives me the time to select and organise my photographs to tell a story. Of course, to do this I have to have taken the right pictures in the first place; which, in turn, means I have to know the story I want to illustrate at the time of taking the photograph. Unfortunately, I do not have enough knowledge of how changes in the park unfold to ensure I have got all the pictures I need.

In the case of apple blossom, looking through my photographs, I found one unsatisfactory image from 17th April. This showed one insignificant tree coming into bloom. In retrospect, I would like to have chronicled the build up of the blossom over the following three weeks. But I just do not have the pictures.

Fen Road Entrance 28 April 2015

What I can show is that by end of the month, the blossom was anything but insignificant as this huge tree by the Fen Road entrance shows.

Main Entrance 4 May 2015

One thing that is quite noticeable with the fruit blossom is that it is not all at its best at the same time. The first tree that I saw in mid April had already lost all its blossom by the time I took this photograph. One factor in this may be the fragility of the blossom: one heavy shower of rain almost completely stripped one tree of all its flowers.

The trees on the drive from the main entrance are amongst the most eye catching and also the latest to come to flower. This one was captured in early May.

In the Woods

Jack-by-the-Hedge in Woods by A14 30 April 2015

The woods and the path at the southern boundary of the park by the A14 are also painted white. Here jack-by-the-hedge covers the floor of these woods. Having walked through the woods (without a camera) I thought there was one long vista of jack-by-the-hedge. When I came to photograph it, my memory was false as thickets of shrubs interrupted the view.

Comfrey in Woods by A14 28 April 2015

Equally prominent in the woods, and on the path alongside, is comfrey.

There is an interesting contrast in the longevity of the blossoms of these two plants. Jack-by-the-hedge quickly lost its impact as the flower heads turned to seed. On the other hand, there was still a significant number of flowers left on the comfrey well into June.

Long Lasting Blue

Borage by Children's Play Area 20 May 2015

By the time I took this photograph, the apple blossom was finished. However, I have included a picture of borage as this particular clump was already flowering before the end of April - ie when the apple blossom was out. Unlike the apple blossom, the borage blooms seemed to get more and more prominent as the month went on.

Horse Chestnut

Old School Lane Entrance 8 May 2015

As far as I am aware, there are only two horse chestnut trees in the park. This magnificent specimen guards the path from Old School Lane.

Bluebell Surprise

Hall's Pond 30 April 2015

Another plant I did not know grew in the park - bluebells. I found a few small clumps of them growing by the seat on the western edge of Hall's pond. From the clumps, I guess this was not the first year they have grown here. Shows what you see when you really look.

A Longer Post Than Normal

This is a longer post then usual. I have aimed at four to six images per post. This is an arbitrary limit and I am keen that the blog is reactive as possible to what is happening in the park. In this case, I felt I needed to extra images to give a full portrait of the park at the beginning of May.

I have also added an about page to the blog to give the background to the project.

NEXT: MAY

Going Green

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 13 Jun 2015 07:24:00 +0000

In a period of about six weeks, the dominant colours in Milton Country Park change from drab browns and greys to the vibrant greens of fresh foliage.

Visitor Centre 8 May 2015

By the May 8, the park is completely green. Here the foliage surrounding the visitor centre is bathed in the golden light of dawn.

Hard to Picture

I have found this post the most difficult so far in terms of creating good images which do justice to the change that took place in the park.

The speed of the change alone has meant I have had little opportunity to go back and retake unsatisfactory shots. Although the overall process took about six weeks, the actual time taken for any one particular species to go from tight bud to full leaf was a lot less.

Path to East of Dickerson's Pit 17 April 2015

I set out to capture the 'tipping' point for hawthorn - the point at which the buds are open but the leaves are not yet fully grown. (For hawthorn, this metamorphosis took less than a fortnight.) I could have tried to do this with a close-up of an individual branch, but I very much wanted to show the subject in the context of the park. Unfortunately, the greening branches which seem so visible to the eye, simply merge into the background when photographed. However, this bush is nicely distinct from the background, which is of trees with only minimal signs of leaves - nicely illustrating the different rates at which the trees and bushes gained their summer clothing.

In the Woods

Woods Dickerson's Pit 13 April 2015

Some of the changes are less dramatic. In this wood, the undergrowth is mainly bramble. Bramble does not lose all its leaves over winter, so the alteration of appearence with the new growth is less dramatic. Nevertheless, the bright green of this year's growth contrasts strongly with the tired coloration of the older leaves.

Woods Dickerson's Pit 4 May 2015

In the canopy above, by early May, the willow trees have gained their leaves and the birch is beginning to show green. Here the birch leaves, framed by two willow trees, glitter in the spring sunshine .

The Reedbed

Todd's Pit 13 May 2015

I first showed a picture of this reedbed in my post Goodbye Autumn. At that time, there was no sign of new growth at all. Here in mid May, the old seed heads are still clearly visible; but, the main reed bed is now green.

All Green

Path to East of Dickerson's Pit 8 May 2015

This image was taken just a few yards from the picture show under 'Hard to Picture' and just three weeks later. The path is now bordered by confluent green vegetation, giving a good indication of the speed of change. This image disappoints me as it does not begin to reflect the beautiful spring morning that I experience. But since a camera cannot record birds singing, the feel of a light breeze on my face, nor the coolness of the dawn air; it is hardly surprising that I find the picture lacking.

NEXT: APPLE BLOSSOM TIME

April Flowers

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 23 May 2015 13:53:00 +0000

As the blackthorn blossom fades away, Milton Country Park comes into flower.

By Fen Road Entrance 13 April 2015

Some of the most conspicuous of this new crop of flowers are the catkins on the pussy willow (Salix caprea). This bank of willow in full flower greets the visitor entering the park from the Fen Road entrance.


Western Edge of Todd's Pit 20 April 2015

Slightly less conspicuous, though probably as common are the catkins on the white willow. This specimen shines like a candle above the path which runs along the western edge of Todd's Pit.

In the Woods

Woods at Northern End of Park 28 April 2015

During the early part of the year, cuckoo pint plants stand out as the only substantial green plants beneath the trees. However, by the time they come into flower, they have been overtaken by other plants, notably cow parsley and nettles. With inconspicuous green flowers they are easily overlooked. The ground around this particular specimen remains clear, but heavy growth of cow parsley is clearly to be seen in the background.

Woods East Side of Dickerson's Pit 24 April 2015

There is a lot of ground ivy in the country park, with substantial masses of it growing in the grassland at the northern end of the park. There is an equally large area of ground ivy growing in the woods at the east side of Dickerson Pit in amongst the leaf litter and moss covered logs. The image above was taken in the latter area, which I find not only visually more interesting, but also a habitat less common outside the park.

Cowslip Surprise

Southern End of Wetlands 17 April 2015

This patch of cowslips growing at the southern end of the Wetlands is probably the biggest surprise I have had to date in this project. It shows how much we all miss when walking around familiar territory.

All Change

Tomkins Mead 20 April 2015

I have always been aware that things happen very rapidly in spring - blossom comes and goes in rapid succession and plants spring up almost overnight. However, until I started this project, I had not realised just how quickly things change; and, despite visiting the country park three or four times a week, I know I am missing things I would have liked to have photographed. Equally, I work on the basis that all blossom is ephemeral, and must be photographed as soon as possible, otherwise it will be lost. I took these forget-me-knots the first time I saw them one misty April morning. In the event, I need not have worried as they were still making a fine show a fortnight later.

I am learning lots about the natural world, and appreciating it all the more.

NEXT: GOING GREEN

Goodbye Autumn

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 09 May 2015 13:46:00 +0000

April is the time when Milton Country Park finally loses its autumn colours, and the first signs of spring appear.

10 April 2015

I am not sufficient of a botanist to identify these leaves with any confidence, but I think they may be Hazel.

Goodbye Autumn

Since autumn has ended, winter has come and gone; but in terms of the appearance of the park, it has made very little difference. The trees, that were essentially bare at the end of November, are still bare, having lost at most an odd leaf or two. The reeds that were brown at that time, are still brown, just maybe a little dashed down.

Todd's Pit 9 April 2015

This was taken early on a misty April morning. The grey mist, the brown reeds and the bare branches give an essentially autumn scene. However, in the foreground, the first green shoots of the nettles show that spring is on its way.

Something Stirring in the Woods

Near Hall's Pond 16 April 2015

One of the habitats in the park that interests me most is ground under the woods. This is covered in forest litter of dead leaves interspersed with moss covered rotten logs. A lot of plants grow either directly on these logs or in close proximity to them. This is a habitat I hope to explore further in the coming year.

Here young shoots of cow parsley are growing alongside the moss. Also, visible in the image are a couple of other seedlings poking through the dead leaves.

Not Everything is Green


Todd's Pit 16 April 2015

There is one thing about reed beds that fascinates me: in November they are brown, in July they are green, but I have never noticed a reed bed that is half green and half brown. Perhaps in the course of this project I will.

The woods behind these reeds are nicely green, but there is precious little sign of any new shoots in the reeds themselves. Two of the white blobs in the image are not carrier bags but nesting swans.

The Dawn of Spring

I end this post with two images of the dawn of spring which appropiately enough were taken at the dawn of the day.

View across Todd's Pit 18 April 2015

Mist rises over the water with brown reeds glinting in the early morning sun. A lot of vegetation has no leaves at all. But this is not autumn; the golden leaves on the trees are not last year's growth, but new leaves on the willow trees.


By Fen Road Exit 13 April 2015

In this image, a fully leaved hawthorn bush catches the early morning sun. The trees behind the bush are still totally bare. This is spring set in an autumn setting. Hello spring!

NEXT: APRIL FLOWERS

Blossom

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 25 Apr 2015 17:29:00 +0000

Late March sees the first transformation of the year in the appearence of Milton Country Park. The blackthorn comes into flower, producing large patches of brilliant white flowers throughout the park.

Blackthorn Blossom 23 March 2015

Elusive Blooms

On the edge of the Wetlands 23 March 2015

Despite its prominence, blackthorn is surprisingly elusive to photograph. The delicate white flowers, which appear before the leaves, create a light snowlike smattering across the surrounding vegetation. To the eye, the blossom is obvious; in a photograph, the flowers are easily lost in the complexity of the surrounding bushes, or against the light grey of a typical spring sky. In this image, the central spiral-like structure is evident, but outlying blossom is somewhat lost.

Flowering Bushes

Exit to Fen Road 23 March 2015

A lot of the blackthorn bushes in the country park are growing alongside the paths. Intermingled with these are trees whose trunks are encased in dark green ivy. This tends to produce images with a very harsh and unpleasant contrast. An effect amplified by the narrow paths which often have one side in bright sunlight and the other side in deep shadow. This view of the exit path to Fen Road does not have these very strong contrasts. The building visible at the end of the path adds to a rustic feel.

Towards Fen Road Exit 23 March 2015

It is quite unusual to make an image of a natural environment that has any strong graphic qualities - trees do not grow in straight lines, bushes do not grow as perfect spheres, and plants and bushes freely intermingle. However, here the white dome of the blackthorn, echoed in the background trees, provides a strong graphic contrast to the single white line of the birch trunk to the right.

Lonely Daffodils

North End of Todd's Pit 5 April 2015

Besides blackthorn, there are odd isolated clumps of daffodils like this scattered throughout the park. Daffodils inevitably invoke thoughts of Wordsworth. But a single isolated clump like this seems to epitomise the very opposite of the poet's sentiment: it is the daffodils that are as lonely as a cloud, and the onlookers (park visitors) who are the host.

In Summary

Todd's Pit 5 April 2015

This image is in someways a coda for this post: delicate blossom lost against the surrounding bushes and the grey sky. Yet, the appearance of blackthorn leaves and the bright green of young shoots on other vegetation point to the greening of the park to come.

A Note on the Schedule

From now on, I shall be publishing a new post on the second and fourth Saturday of each month. When I started this blog, I expected that each new post would reflect the changes in Milton Country Park in the previous fortnight or so. It has come very forcibly to my attention that nature does not work like this: sometimes a lot alters in a very short time (like now in spring time); at other times, nothing much happens for weeks. The contents of each post are therefore going to be dictated by nature. When change is rife, I will playback the changes in slow motion and use more posts for a given time period. When nature is dormant, I will fast forward and use a single post for a more extended time period.

NEXT: GOODBYE AUTUMN

Welcome

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 09 Apr 2015 18:24:00 +0000

Welcome to the first instalment of a year long photographic record of Milton Country Park.

Hall's Pond 25 February 2015

Milton Country Park
Milton Country Park is situated three miles north of Cambridge. It is a 95 acre site of old gravel workings. Besides the disused gravel pits, the park offers wetlands, woods and more open meadows. For more details on the park visit http://www.miltoncountrypark.org/.

Origins of my Project
I have lived just 15 minutes walk from the park since its creation in 1993. Having acquired a labrador puppy last summer, I looked for a project in which I could mix exercising the dog with photography. The country park seemed to offer the perfect opportunity.

However, the immediate trigger for the project was a discussion at Milton Photographic Club on the subject of finding colour in the local landscape in a drab February. In the following days, I went searching for colour in the country park, and found that on a sunny day there was plenty of colour around in the form of the near complimentary blue and yellow as shown in the image of Hall's Pond at the top of this post. In fact, the more I looked the more I found.

From this, I realised there was a great deal more to see in the park than I had previously appreciated. Hence, the project was born to photograph the park for a year to capture the changing seasons.

First Images

Todd's Pit February 24 2015

The park in late February, early March still retains an autumnal feel. The trees are bare, and the reed beds and other vegetation are overwhelmingly yellow/brown with little or no sign of new growth. However, the reeds glow golden on a sunny day, constrasting with the deep blue of the sky reflected in the water. This image of one of the inlets off Todd's Pit is very much an autumnal scene and could have been taken any time in a three month period.

The blue / orange pairing is found in abundance around the pits, even extending to some of the fishing platforms.

Jetty 24 February 2015

However, as the picture below shows that not everything is blue and yellow! Away from the water, the moss on the fallen logs is a
particularly bright green, which in this image is contrasted strongly with last year's ivy leaves.

Ivy and Moss 23 March 2015

Lessons Learnt
In the first fortnight of this project, I have learnt two lessons.

Firstly, I like taking photographs on a sunny day. I know this is an deeply unfashionable view for a photographer, but the sun makes me feel good. And, if I feel good, I take better photographs.

Secondly, a whole lot of advantages accrue from photographing just 15 minutes from home in a place with which you are thoroughly familiar. If you miss a shot one day, then the chances are you will be able to go back the next day and do a lot better. The difficulty is learning to appreciate, and hence want to photograph, the very familiar. So far in the country park, I am finding plenty of new subjects. Perhaps, I never really looked before.

NEXT: BLOSSOM

MCPTest

Apples and Plums

Cherry Plums

Lords and Ladies

Apples

Horse Chestnut

Fruitless

Ivy

Ivy and Wildlife

Folklore

Further Reading

Hawthorn

Using New Eyes Part 3

All Anglo Saxon

Intimate Landscapes

A Foggy Day

Sprat-Weather

Fungi

Mites Eggs

Further Reading

Last Fruit, First Shoots

Cabaret des Oiseaux (or more prosaically teasel)

Burdock

Gelder Rose and a Hint of Autumn

Last Apples

First Shoots

Further Reading

More Autumn

Goose Summer

Brambles

Happy Christmas

Autumn Leaves 2016

Why Leaves Turn Red and Yellow

The Weather For It

Folklore, Legend and Medicine

Autumn 2016

Reeds

Clematis and Hawthorn

Clematis

Hawthorn

Rose Hips

Trees From Tip To Toe

In the Canopy

Going Down

At Ground Level

In the Woods

Next Post

Using New Eyes

May

The Weather Changes Everything

Cow Parsley Too

In The Woods

Additional Posts

Correction

Apple Blossom Time

Missing Images

In the Woods

Long Lasting Blue

Horse Chestnut

Bluebell Surprise

A Longer Post Than Normal

Going Green

Hard to Picture

In the Woods

The Reedbed

All Green

April Flowers

Goodbye Autumn

Blossom

Welcome