Dear Readers, I think of starlings as being fairly opportunistic birds, but when a whole flock of them zoomed past my office window yesterday, I was surprised to see them feeding on the seeds on the cabbage palm next door. I have written about this plant and its attraction to pollinators before, but I have never seen birds feeding on it. However, in a way I’m not surprised – I’ve had goldfinches and sparrows feeding on my Buddleia, so it’s clear that birds are learning to take advantage of a whole range of non-native plants. Funnily enough, I’ve never seen birds feeding on my teasel, which are meant to be the crème de la crème of bird food, but then again, birds, like people, are individuals, with their own preferences and culture.

A little digging about on the interwebs turned up this Youtube video, of starlings feeding in a cabbage palm, presumably in Kensington Gardens, so it seems that plenty of other starlings have realised that this is tasty food.

It’s a short post today, as I’m shortly heading off for my big adventure. At the moment I’m not sure what I’m going to do about blogging while I’m away: there will be a lot of travelling around, and I’m not planning to take my laptop. There might be a chance to post a few photos and notes on what’s going on, but that will depend on wifi availability. So, I might just post some of my greatest hits, or I might put up the equivalent of a ‘gone fishing’ sign. Watch this space!

Witches Brooms on Hornbeam

Dear Readers, as Halloween approaches, it seems like just the right moment to talk about something that often goes unnoticed, or is mistaken for the work of a particularly industrious squirrel – witches’ brooms. The tree in the photo is a hornbeam, but unlike the trees around it, it’s covered in dozens of masses of tangled short twigs – the Royal Horticultural Society describes them as ‘disorganised’, which is putting it mildly. The lateral buds of the tree, which make the side stems, suddenly go berserk, creating this ‘birds nest’.

Although they look impressive, witches brooms are thought not to harm the tree – although the leaves in the ‘brooms’ are often misshapen, and so don’t photosynthesise very well, there will be other areas of the tree that are perfectly normal. But what causes them in the first place? One culprit, particularly in birch trees, is the fungus Taphrina betulina, and in Hornbeams it’s a close relative, Taphrina carpini. Technically, witches’ brooms are galls – the plant itself produces the twigs as a result of the fungal infection, and the fungus probably benefits as its spores are spread by the wind, so being higher up probably provides an advantage.

However, fungi are not the only reason that trees and other plants might develop this particular growth pattern: viruses, other pathogens and even genetic mutations can also cause this particular kind of chaotic growth. In fact, in some spruce trees the genetic mutation is stable, allowing the development of cultivars with a particular growth pattern. One such is the Little Gem cultivar of the Norway Spruce, which grows low to the ground and is often seen in rock gardens.

Norway spruce (Picea abies var Little Gem) Photo By Krzysztof Ziarnek, Kenraiz – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=118095457

Now that I’ve seen these witches’ brooms, I’m sure I’ll be noticing them everywhere – it’s unusual to see a tree with such an impressive crop, but there are lots of trees with just one or two, which are very easily missed. I’m always intrigued by the way that a pathogen can ‘persuade’ a plant to provide a shelter, or a way of reproducing, by hijacking the plant’s own biology. Now, that is really quite a trick.

Oak Tree in Cherry Tree Wood

Dear Readers, I have already mentioned that this year is a mast year for acorns, but you couldn’t really miss it if you’ve been out in the woods of North London in the past few weeks. We are positively crunching through the acorns, and it has not gone unnoticed by the animals that feed on them. Certainly the grey squirrels are in for a nice feed during the winter, but you might have also seen one of our most spectacular birds, the Eurasian Jay.

Eurasian jay in the garden

These birds have a very distinctive, bounding flight, and the white flash above their tails also gives them away as they disappear through the trees. They are also not the most musical of birds (ahem) as you can tell from this recording by Arjun Dutta. I bet most people in the UK have heard this, but it’s sometimes hard to work out what the hell is making all the racket. It’s no surprise that in Wales the bird is known as ‘the shrieker of the woods’.

Overall, the abundance of food this year is likely to mean that more jay fledglings survive the coming winter, with a knock-on effect on the creatures that jays eat – they are omnivorous but have a particular taste for the invertebrates that live on oak trees and feed on acorns, which will also be superabundant next year. These invertebrates will feed not just jays, but lots of other woodland birds as well. Jays sometimes rob nests and kill young birds – I well remember one hammering its beak into a fledgling starling on the shed roof opposite a few years ago – but come next winter there are likely to be far fewer acorns about, and so the numbers of jays will probably fall again. The relationship between the different levels of the food pyramid is constantly changing and rebalancing.

A most excellent photo of a jay making off with a peanut.

Whenever I’ve put out peanuts, I’ve had visits from jays, but they don’t seem interested in anything else. How do they know that I’ve put the peanuts out? Are they watching, like something from Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds?’ I think we underestimate the patience of birds, and their ability to discern what we’re up to with the most minimal of cues. Fortunately, this year the jays will be fine without any intervention from me, so I can make sure that the little birds have a bit of extra sustenance without having to buy peanuts as well, which no one else seems interested in.

Seeing all the acorns on the ground in our local North London woodlands also reminds me of a magical visit to the New Forest many years ago. We were sitting outside our tent when we suddenly heard a grunting, squealing noise.  A spotted sow and no less than twelve tiny piglets scurried through the camp, poking their noses through the leaf litter and munching on the acorns. The owners of the pig were exercising their right of pannage, which goes back to the Middle Ages and allows ‘commoners’ to turn out their animals to feed in the forest. As we watched, the owner wandered over, whistled to the mother pig, and the whole family started to follow him – the pigs and piglets go back to their sties overnight, to keep warm and to avoid being run over by one of the more careless drivers who race through the roads of the New Forest. Pigs seem to be immune to the effects of eating too many acorns – green acorns have a very high tannin content, and ponies are sometimes poisoned following a storm which blows down the unripe acorns. How wonderful to see pigs roaming free and doing their part to keep the forest fertile and biodiverse – their rooting around loosens up the soil, and their dung fertilises it. Plus, we should probably remember that ‘the gardener’s friend’, the robin, was likely to have been following wild boar around long before we came on the scene on our forks and spades.

Pigs in the New Forest (Photo By Pete Birkinshaw – https://www.flickr.com/photos/binaryape/2945238172/, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=134923907)

Hedwigia ciliata var leucophaea Growing on a church roof in Monmouthshire (Photo by Mark White from https://www.britishbryologicalsociety.org.uk/learning/species-finder/hedwigia-ciliata/)

Dear Readers, in this month’s copy of British Wildlife there’s a wonderful tale of creativity and sustainability which brought a smile to my face, and I hope it will do the same for you. The sandstone roof tiles of churches in the Welsh Marches are home to some of the UK’s rarest mosses, and in particular St James church in Llangua has the UK’s largest population of the Nationally Rare Fringed Hoar-moss (Hedwigia ciliata var leucophaea), along with the Nationally Scarce Hoary Grimmia (Grimmia laevigata) and Flat-Rock Grimmia (Grimmia ovalis).

Hedwigia ciliata var. leucophaea (Photo by Clare Halpin from https://www.britishbryologicalsociety.org.uk/learning/species-finder/hedwigia-ciliata/)

Grimmia laevigata (Photo by Sharon Pilkington from https://www.britishbryologicalsociety.org.uk/learning/species-finder/grimmia-laevigata/)

Grimmia ovalis (Photo by Sharon Pilkington at https://www.britishbryologicalsociety.org.uk/learning/species-finder/grimmia-ovalis/)

The church was purchased by Friends of Friendless Churches, who restore closed historic places of worship in England and Wales. I imagine they were delighted to learn that their conservation work was going to be impacted by a bunch of mosses, but to their eternal credit they worked together with local ecologists, Monmouthshire County Council, the conservation architect Andrew Faulkner, and the conservation builders Jones and Fraser to preserve the mosses.

The church needed to be re-roofed, and during this period it would be covered with a large tent. The rare mosses need direct sunlight, and in its absence all sorts of other plants would grow up in the damp, dark atmosphere, and the mosses would be overwhelmed. After a bit of head-scratching, it was decided to build a wooden frame for 200 of the moss-covered tiles, which would be positioned at the same slope and aspect as the original roof.

The mosses thrived in their new ‘home’ – they are drought-resistant so they were basically allowed to just get on with their lives. Then, when the roof was ready to be retiled, mossy tiles were positioned at various places. As the mosses reproduce vegetatively, in a few years the whole roof should be mossy again.

The whole story of the restoration of St James, Llangua, can be found here, (and do look at the Repair Scrapbook) and it was a truly fascinating story of conservation, both of a building and of its ecosystem. Our churches and graveyards are often havens for the natural world, and places of great peace. It’s wonderful to see them being restored and looked after in such a considered way.

Iberian Orca and calf (Photo By Renauddestephanis – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77951957)

Dear Readers, a while back I wrote a post about the Orcas who live around the Straits of Gibraltar attacking sailing boats, and I thought it might be interesting to revisit the subject in the light of some more recent research. At the time, there were a lot of stories along the lines of ‘orcas taking revenge on rich people with yachts’ following the sight of some scars on a matriarch orca called White Gladis – these were thought to be the result of a boat collision. Alas (because this was a most excellent story), the scars are now thought to be the result of a little ‘tooth-raking’ within the orca pod, which is almost the equivalent of a hug.

However, the theories that remain suggest the complexity of these human/whale interactions. You can watch a fascinating film about the way that this saga has developed here, but the first theory relates to the food that the orcas eat. The Iberian orcas feed more or less exclusively on blue-fin tuna, and they hunt them in a very particular way, by corralling an individual tuna and then ramming it with their snouts. This behaviour seemed to some cetacean experts to be very similar to the way that adult orcas will bring adolescents up to the boats and watch while the youngsters try to ‘ram’ the rudder, and the theory is that the adults are teaching the young whales how to kill the tuna by letting them practice on the rudder.

One expert, however, suspects that it’s more complicated than this. Fishermen used to shoot the orca, because the number of blue fin tuna was going down and the whales were inclined to ‘steal’ them. However, from 2005-2011 the numbers of tuna went down so much that there was a moratorium on hunting them. The tuna recovered, the fishermen were allowed back if they caught the tuna on a line, and the orcas would come along and steal the tuna, but the difference this time was that a whale-watching industry grew up, worth millions of euros. So, the fishermen learned to endure the attention of the orcas, the tourists were delighted, and, after all, no one is going to shoot a whale in full view of a boat full of children.

The side effect was that the orcas became very familiar with boats, and people, and were no longer afraid of them. So, they started to ‘play’ with the rudders, simply because they could. There’s one film of a whale swimming around a boat with a rudder in its mouth, as if to say ‘see what I did!’ And we know that orcas love to play – see this story about them wearing fish on their heads, or this one about them bringing humans gifts. So I can fully believe that the whales are just being curious and mischievous.

Of course, we can’t rule out other possible explanations – the Strait of Gibraltar is one of the busiest in the world, and the noisiest, and we know that underwater noise can cause whales to strand, and probably to show other behavioural changes. Persistent chemicals also accumulate in orcas, as they are top predators, and this too can cause neurological damage. So, the Iberian orcas will certainly be suffering from a range of stressors, and the boat ramming may well be the result of a whole combination of factors. However, boat attacks are down in 2024 and 2025 due to two simple pieces of advice given to sailors:

• You’re safe in water less than 50 metres deep
• If you see killer whales approaching, run like mad – they don’t seem to attack moving boats, just ones that are at anchor or moving slowly.

It was heartening that even people who had had their boats attacked by orcas were still full of respect for them, and saw them as an important part of the ocean’s ecosystem, rather than a nuisance. Some described it as the most amazing experience of their lives. This definitely gives me hope.

Dear Readers, I have long loved the Poems on the Underground series – the poems have often brought me up short, and I’ve sometimes seen someone look up from their phone and stare, transfixed, at the words. There are six new poems for this autumn, and here are my favourites.

The W.H Auden poem above could not be more apposite for the times we live in, and neither could the Benjamin Zephaniah poem below. Once a Londoner, always a Londoner.

And here is a poem by local East Finchley poet Fleur Adcock who died last year.

And I love this one. So powerful.

Dear Readers, my back is playing up a bit at the moment (nothing serious, just too much sitting around and not enough moving around) but it does mean that I get to gaze out of the window and wonder what on earth is going on. Take this magpie, for example. I’m sure it’s just innocently checking out gutters for tasty titbits, but there is something so considered about this one as it goes about its business.

Also, the iridescence on the feathers is really quite something – these are very handsome birds, for all that they don’t endear themselves to everyone. In cities they often seem part of the clean up squad. Our local magpies have also had a huge falling out with the crows who nest in a big tree on the other side of the road, so this one was quiet, and relatively mannerly.

I’m loving the leaf colour on the Juneberry/Shadbush/Amelanchior opposite too, although it wasn’t a source of much curiosity for the magpie, who much preferred the opportunities that human habitation provided.

And then it was up and away, probably to find a high vantage point to investigate further culinary opportunities.

And then off. As for me, I’m still trying to decide whether I need a cold compress or a hot water bottle. I shall probably be fine tomorrow. And in the meantime, I’m going to take myself downstairs to give the foster cats a cuddle. They’ve calmed down a fair bit since their arrival, and are now just about the friendliest cats you can imagine. And they’re available to rehome via the RSPCA here…

https://www.rspca.org.uk/local/friern-barnet-adoption-centre/findapet/details/GOBLIN_WHITE_TIP/273751/rehome

Ink Cap (Mycena sp)

Dear Readers, it’s autumn so it must be time to skip around Coldfall Wood and look for fungi. Alas, it’s been extremely dry, so there hasn’t been quite the bumper crop that we’ve seen in previous years, but there was still enough to keep us all interested, including one Red List fungus, a great find!

First up Ink Cap – interestingly, this is considered edible when young, but it becomes poisonous if consumed within a couple of hours of alcohol. In fact, the reaction (sweating, nausea, vertigo) is the basis of some drugs that are given to alcoholics to help them ‘kick the habit’.

Stump Puffball (Lycoperdon piriforme)

These little puffballs weren’t ‘ripe’ yet – when fully developed, they will emit a ‘puff’ of spores when rain falls on them. ‘Lycoperdon‘ means ‘wolf’s fart’. Whoever said that mycologists have no sense of humour?

Honey Fungus (Armillaria sp.)

We found a dead oak with a fine  collection of honey fungus on the stump – many fungi need their hosts to continue to live and thrive, but honey fungus lives on dead plant matter, so it doesn’t need the tree to stay alive.

Spindleshank (Gymnopus fusipes)

Spindleshank is another common parasite of stressed and ageing oak trees.

Trooping Funnel (Infundibulicybe geotropa)

Trooping Funnel is a most attractive, porcelain-white fungus which often grows in rows or as fairy rings. It’s also known as Monk’s Head, probably because of the resemblance to a monk’s tonsure.

Reishi or Lacquered Conk (Ganoderma lucidum)

And look at this shiny fungus – it looks almost as if it’s had a coat of varnish! It’s said to have healing properties in Chinese medicine, and is highly valued as a medicine.But this was probably our most exciting find: this is the Zoned Rosette (Podoscypha multizonata). Over 80% of all Zoned Rosettes are found in Southern England, and London is real hotspot for the fungus, which is Red Listed, and has its own Biodiversity Action Plan. It’s easy to miss if you don’t know what you’re looking for, as you can see from the photo below. The fungus grows on  the roots of oak trees but doesn’t appear to cause any particular damage (and may, indeed, have a mutualistic relationship with the tree).

Zoned Rosette – Photo by By Lukas from London, England – Podoscypha multizonata, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=93617761

If you are close to any woodland,  it’s a great time to get out for a walk, guided or otherwise – the leaf colour seems to pop so beautifully against the grey skies.  And the nights are drawing in, so let’s make the most of these autumn days.

Coldfall Wood

Dear Readers, when I was a child my Dad used to swear by something called Pepper Dust to keep the cats away from whatever it was that he’d just planted. You can still buy it, but what on earth is in it isn’t quite clear – I suspect cayenne pepper or something equally pungent. But does it work? Clearly, all those people investing in ultrasonic cat scarers and other devices think not.

I always love James Wong’s columns in New Scientist, for their good sense and scientific accuracy. First, he asks, why did capsaicin (the ‘hot’ part of chilli peppers) evolve in the first place? After all, chillies in their natural state are bright red and very attractive looking, so why would they want to deter the things that come to eat them? Well, chillies don’t ‘want’ just anything to eat them. Birds don’t have receptors for capsaicin, so they don’t get ‘burnt’, and when they eat the chilli peppers, the seeds pass through their bodies unharmed, and get transported elsewhere to germinate and create new chilli plants. Mammals, however, do have capsaicin receptors, and so dogs, cats, mice and deer learn to avoid the plants – the seeds are destroyed in the stomachs of these animals, so it’s of no benefit to the plant for them to be eaten.

Sayaca Tanager eating chillis (Photo By Alex Popovkin, Bahia, Brazil – Flickr: Sayaca Tanager feeding on malagueta peppers, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17854806)

Should we be showering the garden with chilli, then? Wong points out that capsaicin is such a good deterrent for mice and rats that it’s often used in bird feed, poultry feed, and to protect the nests of rare ground-nesting birds. However, with larger mammals, the jury is out: badgers prefer food without chilli, but will eat it if there’s nothing else. Tough animals, badgers – they’ll dig up a bumblebee or wasp nest to get at the honey, so if they can tolerate being stung a bit of chilli-burn must be a walk in the park.

Wong points out, however, that chilli powder biodegrades, losing its ‘heat’ quickly. Also, just like humans, other animals can increase their tolerance for ‘the burn’. Wong recommends using the hottest chilli powder you can find, rotating it around the garden, replenishing it often, and keeping an eye on whether or not it’s effective.

You can read the whole article here. And in the meantime, Readers, do you use any kind of cat/fox/deer deterrent, and if so, what works for you?

Dear Readers, the squirrels in our garden are definitely living their best lives: last week they got the last of the squishy raspberries and strawberries, and today they got the last few grapes that were a bit on the mushy side. And what a splendid example of the species this one is! Look at that magnificent tail, not to mention the rusty patches of fur.

Not everyone is delighted to see grey squirrels, however, so it was good to see that an important step has been reached in the creation of a squirrel contraceptive – apparently an oral contraceptive has been developed which can render both male and female rats infertile, and it’s hoped that this could be delivered via a specially-weighted feeding station in areas where grey squirrels are causing problems for woodlands, or for red squirrels. I do wonder if the removal of grey squirrels won’t cause a change in other aspects of the woodland ecology, but it’s preferable to shooting and trapping them, surely.

In the meantime, here’s a grey squirrel chomping some grapes. Make the most of it :-).