A few running repairs to the shed/summerhouse I assembled for my father about fifteen years ago.

 

  On this day two years ago I rose at dawn and gazed on early morning sun illuminating the forest. My tent was pitched near Echo Point in striking distance of South Lake Tahoe. After ten days hiking around the Meiss Meadows it was time to return to civilization via a bus to Sacramento then train to Oakland. I walked to a nearby stream to collect water for a rudimentary wash and to rustle up some coffee. I had several hours of hiking ahead of me, broke camp and hit the trail. By evening I was resting up in a hotel room in downtown San Francisco.

 I wonder when I'll do a trip like this again? Needless to say long distance travel is a non-starter during the pandemic. I also wonder quite what the wildfire situation will mean for planning hikes in that region in the future? My treks to Mount Shasta, Crater Lake and Mount Eddy in 2016/17/18 were all in areas of northern California and southern Oregon that have been badly affected at one time or another. I see there is now a big fire burning to the south-east of Tahoe.

 And it's been so damn hot. Those record temperatures are mind boggling. I encountered temperatures in the high thirties and that was tough enough- backpacking in anything hotter would be fierce indeed. 

 

 In the interests of vérité I must report setbacks as well as successes. The Runner Beans have not prospered on the allotment. In fact I wasn't going to plant any because they need a rich moist soil (which the allotment is not) but I had some beans from last year so I gave them a go.

 I planted a mix of Scarlet Emperor and a white flowered variety. All the whites got eaten by slugs or snails- perhaps they are more tender? Most of the Emperors started climbing but they're not looking like they'll be abundant.

 On the other hand the self-seeded Nasturtiums are providing a flourishing underplanting around the canes. Unlike beans Nasturtiums like a dry soil, low in humus and nutrients. I may plant Runners next year but if I do I'll heavily compost a circle of soil for a wigwam of Scarlet Emperor.

 

 Some wildflowers that were frequent in the hedgerows as I walked out to Knocking Hoe, Pegsdon and Hexton in recent rambles. From the top: Dark Mullein (Verbascum nigrum), Wild Basil (Clinopodium vulgare) and Wild Marjoram (Origanum vulgare).

 

 Persicaria amplexicaulis is a species that hails from the Himalayas but readily available as a garden plant in the form of cultivars with names like 'Firetail' and 'Firedance'. It's a tough, shrubby plant- totally reliable year after year. 

 

 P. amplexicaulis is visited by a variety of pollinators. Particularly wasps if my garden is anything to go by. Wasps feed on sugars -hence their attraction to picnics- but by foraging for nectar on flowers they spread pollen. The importance of wasps as pollinators seems to have been rather overlooked till recently. 

 

  I think I've identified the species which I saw growing in great numbers [see last entry] on the Pegsdon Hills. Actually this solitary specimen is one I photographed there last year but it's a better close up for the purposes of this entry.

 I wasn't sure what I was looking at. I was reminded of Meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria) but that is a taller plant of damp and marshy places not dry, chalky hillsides. So my mind began to scroll through other white flowered wildflowers that might fit the bill. 

 Then the penny dropped. I was on the right lines to begin with. This is surely Dropwort (Filipendula vulgaris) which resembles a mini Meadowsweet and grows on calcereous grassland.

 

  Over the hills and far away. Well, the Pegsdon Hills- thereby completing a trio of walks to nature reserves in close proximity on the Hertfordshire/Bedfordshire border. [see recent entries concerning Knocking Hoe and Hexton chalkpit]

 

The meadows that slope up to the hills lack the taller species seen at Knocking and the chalk pit. Also the grasses seem less coarse. Perhaps this reflects the fact that Pegsdon is grazed more. None the less all the action is at ground level with a very fine species rich turf.

  Higher up the slopes Wild Thyme is widespread to the extent that I could smell the delicious fragrance on the breeze.

 

 

 Sheep roamed freely on the uppermost sections and the grass is generally of a shorter sward as a consequence. Selective grazing by sheep, cattle and ponies helps maintain the balance of the delicate ecosystem that allows so many wildflowers to thrive.

 Even among the grazed areas there was no shortage of shimmering grasses and flowers like these dainty Harebells.

  The folds and undulations of the Pegsdon Hills create many niches and micro-climates for flora and fauna to flourish.

 

 

 Case in point one whole hillside was dotted with hundreds and hundreds of this white flowered wildflower. And I'm trying to think what it is! 

 

 Saw all these pollinators on the same Thistle at the same time! And a few more besides that were too quick for the camera.

 

 I paid a visit to the Hexton Chalk Pit, not far from Knocking Hoe which I wrote about a couple of days ago. Both reserves are abundant in species associated with chalk grassland. 

 Like Knocking Hoe the wildflowers at the (disused) chalk pit create a rich tapestry of flowers. Plants like Sanfoin, Pyramidal Orchid, Spiny Restharrow, Lady's Bedstraw and Self-Heal grow among the grasses in great profusion...

 

 

 

 When I visit somewhere like Knocking Hoe [last entry] I am always struck by the sheer number and variety of pollinators in action. Factors like pollution and climate change are undoubtedly a factor in the decline of pollinating insects but I think habitat loss is at the heart of the problem. 

 On a micro scale it's something individuals can do something about. A garden or a window box creates a habitat of sorts. Perhaps not a flowering chalk grassland like Knocking Hoe but a habitat none the less.   

 

 I walked around Knocking Hoe today (twice in fact) where the Chiltern Hills meet East Anglia on the Hertfordshire/Bedfordshire border. It's one of several nature reserves hereabouts which are surviving pockets of chalk grassland. 

From a distance it could be mistaken for grass and not much else. On closer inspection the grasses are teeming with wildflowers...

  So many flowers that I won't follow my usual practice of identifying each one individually with both the common and Latin name. Suffice to say among the above can be seen Greater Knapweed, Harebell, Pyramidal Orchid, Field Scabious, Clustered Bellfower and Lady's Bedstraw.

 Knocking Hoe is a haven for species such as these that were once the "common" wildflowers of the countryside and which are considerably less common now. That is reason enough for coming here but the reserve is also known for sheltering some real rarities like the Pasque Flower, Moon Carrot and Field Fleawort.

 

 The Box Tree Moth originates in south-east Asia and is now well established in the UK. Drinking tea with a friend she spotted and identified this one on a window pane. 

 The caterpillar feeds on the leaves of Box Trees causing considerable damage. Box (Buxus sempervirens) is native to the UK but in a few sites only, notably Box Hill in Surrey. I wonder why a plant that is native and hardy is so limited in its spread?

 However it is widely grown as an ornamental and therein lies the problem. Box Tree Moth undoubtedly arrived via the horticultural trade on imported stock. 

 We have a similar issue with Ash dieback which is caused by a fungus (also of Asian origins) and well on the way to decimating the UK's Ash trees. Ash is one of our most common trees; clearly there is no difficulty growing it here. None the less it became more "economic" to grow stock abroad then import it. This coincided with the arrival of ash dieback in eastern Europe on imports from Asia.

 Pests and pathogens may extend from their native range anyway but global trade hastens that process considerably. In fact it's a theme of this diary that introduced species increase biodiversity in ways that are frequently benign. On the other hand introductions can be problematic. A species -be it flora or fauna- may be subject to checks and balances in its native habitat which don't apply in a different ecosystem.

 Nature can and does assimilate change. There is so much genetic variation in this country's Ash trees for example that dieback may meet its limits at some point. As for economics, well that's another story...

 

 Refurbishing the greenhouse I built for my father about 15 years ago is an ongoing project. As mentioned a while back I built a couple of work benches out of old roof joists. They had to be constructed outside so the screw holes were pre-drilled to be re-assembled in situ because they were too big to fit in the door.

 Several panes of glass have broken over the years and will need to be replaced but it's still pretty hot in there when the sun catches it. Having said that the garden is shady so I have it in mind to grow some shade loving plants from the sub-tropics that wouldn't survive a frosty winter. The Botanic Garden in Cambridge has some old fashioned steamy glass houses and I've always enjoyed wandering through them.

 

 Neglected allotment plots are often full of flowers. The earth has generally been disturbed quite recently which has the effect of distributing seeds, stolons (i.e. runners) and rhizomes (i.e. rootstocks). A period of neglect then allows them to take hold. Case in point the curiously named Fox and Cubs (Pilosella aurantiaca) spreads by all of these methods.

 P. aurantiaca was no doubt introduced to the UK as a garden plant but runs wild where conditions suit. The soil on the allotment must have some similarities with the alpine meadows of central and southern that are its natural habitat. Someone will probably take over the abandoned plot shown above and have a go at turning it into a square of bare earth with rows of vegetables. But Fox and Cubs will simply bide its time before making a comeback...  

 

Speaking of the wildflower patch [last entry] I spotted this critter on the Ox-eye Daisies.

 

 Meadow Cranesbill (Geranium pratense) has been flowering for some time now in the wildflower patch on the allotment. Musk Mallow (Malva moschata) has just come into flower too. The clear blue blooms of G. pratense and the soft pinks of M. moschata are a delightful combination. Bees are buzzing on both of them...

 

 Meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria) is a plant that grows in damp places, as seen here at Purwell Meadows in Hertfordshire. In fact the name is not a reference to where it grows. 

 Meadowsweet has an ancient history as a stewing herb and a flavouring for wines and beer. In Anglo-Saxon times it was called "medowyrt" after the Old English word "meodu" meaning mead. Chaucer mentions "medwort" in The Knight's Tale.

 Meadowsweet was also regarded as a medicinal plant. It contains salicylic acid which was synthesised in 1897 to make a new drug. At that time the Latin name for the species was Spiraea ulmaria from which the drug's brand name was derived: Aspirin.

 

  I saw this stand of Common Comfrey (Symphytum officinale) growing along a damp ditch- this Comfrey prefers moist conditions. I assume this is S. officinale but as I noted in my last entry it's a genus that hybridises freely.

The flowers of Common Comfrey run from pale blues to deep purples. This stand has a bluish tinge on the whole but even among the same colony there was considerable variation.

 

Some flowers were almost white with a pinkish tinge or only a hint of blue.

 

Whereas some were flushed with darker tints.

 

 Like some other members of the plant family Boraginaceae the flowers of Common Comfrey morph through shades of red and blue as they mature. Perhaps this creates a varied palette from plant to plant?