Nice to see those early flowers in the garden (see last entry). However it is the arrival of the Snowdrops that really heralds the start of the year and they are just beginning to bloom.

 As I've noted before my guess is that they are Galanthus 'Sam Arnott' said to be a hybrid between G. nivalis and G. plicatus. He was a Scottish cleric who spotted this tall, vigorous variety growing in his garden sometime in the late nineteenth or early twentieth century. He passed specimens on to noted horticulturalists like HJ Elwes and EA Bowles who propagated them. In the fifties and sixties they were cultivated on a larger scale and sold through mail order by the Giant Snowdrop Company which is perhaps how they arrived in this corner of South London. There must be a thousand or two in the garden; the 'Sam Arnott' is noted for multiplying vigorously.

 Having said that I am no "Galanthophile" (I believe it was EA Bowles who coined that term). Collectors are alert to the minutest distinctions in leaf and flower. I should take one along to an expert and get a definitive identification.

 NB Galanthus plicatus is a species native to the Crimea reportedly bought back to Britain by soldiers during the Crimean War of the 1850s. Certainly plant collectors would have headed East in search of species. Their finds created something of a craze for Snowdrops among Victorian gardeners which persists to this day. 

 

 First flowers in the garden. Vinca difformis is the first of the Periwinkles to flower. Forsythias are early spring flowering but often earlier in a micro-climate like London. Likewise "Tommies" aka the Woodland Crocus (Crocus tommasinianus) which is sometimes referred to as the Early Crocus. 

 Gaps in paving stones are great places to propagate plants- by accident. In between these slabs at the side of the house Hart's Tongue Fern, Tellima grandiflora and Wood Millet have self-seeded from other parts of the garden. By carefully extracting them and teasing out the roots they are ready to be replanted elsewhere.

 

 More Dartmoor. As noted in my last entry I last hiked and wild camped on the moor back in 2012. However I have been there more recently when I took a couple of short courses in forest gardening at the High Heathercombe Center in 2019. [see various entries in February and May of that year] These were on the eastern edge of Dartmoor and I took the opportunity to do a couple of short walks.

 My long hikes across the moor were in summer yet I was often soaked to the skin and freezing cold. Most of the moor is a morass and my feet were basically submerged in water for much of the time. I was buffeted by the wind and had to make my way through dense fog.

 Strange to say the conditions during my visits to High Heathercombe in late winter and early spring were mild and dry and the ground was solid underfoot!

I noticed on the OS map that I was in striking distance of Grimspound, a Bronze Age settlement. To quote English Heritage: "The remains of 24 stone roundhouses survive here, within a massive boundary wall about 150 metres in diameter."

 

Stone is a defining characteristic of the Dartmoor landscape.

In winter or summer the stark grandeur of the moor stirs the soul.

 

 The legal scam to ban wild camping on Dartmoor has provoked outrage. I'm happy to say it has been been roundly condemned left, right and centre. I last traversed the moor back in 2012 and dug out a few photos to remind myself of the joys of wild camping.

A room with a view.

 

 

 On that visit I headed for the dank and mysterious Wistman's Wood.

 

 This extraordinary locale is a surviving fragment of temperate rainforest. NB see also my entry dated 8th. February 2017 for a more extensive description. 

  Dartmoor is mainly open country and remarkable for the presence of numerous standing stones, stone circles and stone rows.

They speak of an ancient significance now lost to us.

 

 

 Woke up to bright sunshine and a hard frost. Even the heat bubble that is inner London was pretty damn cold overnight. One of the advantages of a garden of native and near native plants is that the chill will have little effect in the long run. For example these Stinking Irises (Iris foetidissima) are tough as old boots. They will wilt in freeze or drought then carry on regardless.

 Out walking today I saw the first Snowdrops glinting in the sun.

 Taken last year- bumblebees on the wing. Too cold for bumblers at the moment with another blast of sub-zero temperatures. Being furry creatures they do come out on milder days in January to forage on winter flowering plants like Helleborus foetidus. I will be sure to note the first bee I see.

 I have 'wild camped' on Dartmoor a number of times i.e. hiking across the moor and finding a spot to pitch as night falls or the rain falls or both! I have also stayed on two campsites and even that was pretty wild. On one I was so lashed by the wind and rain I wasn't sure if my tent would withstand it. On the other I was almost flooded when a nearby brook burst its banks. Backpacking on Dartmoor is tough but exhilarating. 

 So it was depressing to read that one of the landowners in the area has won a legal case to prevent wild camping on his estate and by implication the moor as a whole. Dartmoor has long been the only place in England where wild camping is legal- or was thought to be. Dartmoor is a National Park and even the National Parks Authority has taken the view that wild camping is permitted. It now has a disclaimer on its website saying that permission must be sought from the landowner.

 Presumably that won't be granted by the hedge fund manager who owns the 4.000 acre Blachford Estate. The majority of Dartmoor is owned by the Duchy of Cornwall and I hope the King will take a more lenient view. Over the years many teenagers have hiked and camped on the moor undertaking the Duke of Edinburgh Award. One hopes that Charles would approve of the kind of healthy, outdoor activity advocated by his father. Likewise the annual Ten Tors Challenge is a much respected fixture. I have on several occasions passed squaddies training on the moor- is anyone going to say "get orf my land" to the British Army?

 Anyway whether with royal approval or not I will wild camp on Dartmoor again. If some stockbroker wants to prevent that they will have to find me first! Perhaps we will have to invoke the spirit of the mass trespass on Kinder Scout and insist on the right to roam. 

 Plants are routinely categorised as deciduous or evergreen. Often the distinction is clear. At this time of year we see lots of bare trees but some still have their greenery e.g. Holly. In fact even evergreens drop leaves at some point (spring in the case of Holly) but have sufficient new growth to be considered evergreen.

 Also there is an intermediate category referred to as semi-evergreen (or semi-deciduous). Strictly speaking this relates to plants that shed their foliage over a short period and rejuvenate quickly. It can also apply to plants when they are affected by prevailing conditions.

 This Chocolate Vine (Akebia quinata) sprawling all over the porch has always dropped its leaves entirely during autumn. This year however it retains some even as new buds are starting to form. I thought the cold snap before Christmas would finish off the last leaves but no. Perhaps it's due to the otherwise mild winter we're having. Or perhaps it's because the drought of last summer seemed to make the vine more vigorous rather than less.    

 How high the moon. There seems to be some debate whether or not plants are influenced by the moon. Perhaps the question of why would they be affected should be turned on its head: why wouldn't they be? Surely all elements of the cosmos in vast or subtle ways have some bearing on each other?

 

 It was about this time six years ago that I was preparing to publish the blog. The first entry went out on January 21st. 2017 noting that Helleborus foetidus was the first plant to flower in the garden. The next entry was on February 7th. observing the arrival of an early bee on the Snowdrops. Followed on February 8th. by a reminiscence of visiting Wistman's Wood on Dartmoor. 

 In the weeks that followed I posted entries on subjects such as the ancient Ankerwicke Yew and seeking out Butcher's Broom in Epping Forest. I wrote about a patch of Winter Aconites in Hertfordshire and various plants in the garden. In retrospect I see that many of the themes in this diary were present at the outset.

 I started at the start of the year with the idea that I would describe my back garden over the course of four seasons along with some notes on seeing wildflowers in their natural habitats. My interests informed the blog but then again doing the blog deepened my interests.

 I wrote in the spirit of "Dear diary" as though addressing an imaginary reader. As time went on I became aware that I was addressing some actual readers. Some are people I know, some are people I've never met. If you're reading this now: hello!

 I don't really consider myself to be an aficionado of "social media". Nonetheless blogging has provided me with an ideal medium for spontaneous expression. The diary is neither an academic treatise on botany nor a portfolio of photography. Having said that I try to be accurate where I touch on the natural sciences and I like to think that some of the photographs have merit. 

 As it is first and foremost a diary I can go into detail or mention things in passing as the mood takes me. And depending how much time I have on my hands!   

 On the strength of my hiking trips to California I take an interest in the snowpack in the Sierra Nevadas at this time of year. I've seen plenty of snow lingering well into the summer (for example as seen above near Lake Tahoe in July 2019). Even so California has experienced several periods of severe drought in the past twenty years and is arguably in an extended "megadrought".

 So it's good news that the statewide snowpack is currently at 174％ of average but time will tell. I seem to remember saying much the same thing at this point in January 2022 when the snowpack was at 160％. There followed the three driest months for California on record. On April 1st. the snowpack was at 38％.

 From the hiking perspective it has a bearing on when certain trails become accessible without alpine gear and when the wildflowers begin to bloom. In the wider context approximately one third of California's water supply comes from snowmelt.

 In my mind I've been roaming over the South Downs. Thinking of walks to do in the year ahead, daydreaming and looking at maps. Perhaps a winter walk or two then the longer, warmer days will be here...

                        

 Hassocks is a convenient railway station to access the foot of the Downs. Beyond that point the train enters a tunnel to Brighton. Between Hassocks and the Downs is Butcher's Wood which is carpeted by Wood Anemones in early spring followed by a haze of Bluebells.  

  

 

 Many of our native Orchid species can be found up on the Downs in locales like Wolstonbury Hill, the Devil's Dyke and Mount Caburn. 

  

 The South Downs are an important repository of wildflowers being a patchwork of habitats including chalk grassland, lowland heath, woodland and wetland. As I recall this photograph was taken on the coast path walking over the Seven Sisters from Eastbourne towards Cuckmere Haven. 

 High summer is probably the peak for wildflower spotting but there are plenty to see well into autumn. I remember lots of Marjoram last September walking the South Downs Way near Lewes. I will aim to revisit some of these routes and seek out new ones. 

 Stinking Hellebore (Helleborus foetidus) is invariably one of the first wildflowers to put in an appearance. Today I walked out from Hitchin to a particular footpath along a field margin where I have spotted H. foetidus before. I thought it might be too soon but sure enough this one was already in full growth on the first day of the year. I suppose I felt the need to seek out a harbinger of spring. Also there is a village pub nearby- that might have had something to do with it!