Grass roots - grazing in the city

Guest blogger Dave writes:

Urban agriculture is a concept which apparently originated in New York, and has since been enthusiastically taken up by metropolitan centres around the world, as here in the German capital Berlin.

Strange to think these sheep are grazing just  a couple of kilometres from the grim concrete fortress which was home to the former East Germany's secret police, the Staasi - hated and feared in equal measure by the GDR's beleaguered citizens.

As well as the flock, bees are thriving and producing honey amid the communist-era tower blocks.

This being Berlin, the local graffiti artists have also been hard at work making their own colourful mark on the landscape.

The city farm is adorned with antique ploughs and harrows dating back to when the area was a valuable source of agricultural produce.

Most Berliners live in flats, so access to private outdoor space is at a premium. Allotments are especially highly prized and hardly ever  come onto the open market. Known as "garden colonies", allotments also act as flourishing social centres. Most of the colonies boast a beer garden, and gardeners are keen on swapping their fruit and veg among themselves. The rules governing the colonies are dauntingly complicated, and as with British beach huts, you're not supposed to live on site. Still, for most colonists their allotment is a lifelong commitment.

 

Despite being roughly the same size geographically as London, Berlin's population is only about a third as big, and that lower density means there's plenty of greenery. And thanks to the super efficient German public transport system, no matter how far you venture out into the woods, there's always a tram, train or bus to get you home.   

Mobbed by sheep!

I've just noticed how often my posts feature the wildlife I come across when I'm out. Today started off quite sunny so I seized the moment and took a short walk, it turned out to be just 2 miles, around the edge of Alsager through an area called Oakhanger Moss. Quite a few local areas are called 'Moss' but some are now housing estates; I wanted to see what they look like nowadays when not built on.

It turned out to be a slightly odd kind of woodland, with a feel of complete abandonment, and lots of ferns and bracken growing where the sunlight filtered through.

I am not a fan of signs like this one, which feels rather stroppy in tone:

It made me reflect that, as a child growing up on a farm, there were no rules at all that I can remember. Unthinkable now. A recent walk through the grounds of Davenport Hall near Swettenham was absolutely plastered with signs about horses not walking on the grass verge, no ball games and so on.

However the highlight of this mini walk were these chaps, who came pelting across the field as I walked through. They came very close and left me with a big grin:

I assume they thought I might have food, as they soon headed off once I turned out to be food-free. And who says sheep are stupid? When I retraced my steps, they clearly remembered my rubbish food record and didn't so much as stir in my direction.

It turns out that Oakhanger Moss is an SSSI - right on my doorstep, and I had no idea. According to English Nature, 'the meres and mosses of the north-west Midlands form a geographically discrete series of nationally important lowland open water and peatland sites. The finest examples are considered to be of international importance. They have developed in natural depressions in the glacial drift (sands and boulder clays) left by the ice sheets as they retreated from the Cheshire-Shropshire Plain some 15,000 years ago. The majority lie in Cheshire and north Shropshire.'

So I'm fascinated to learn that Oakhanger Moss, which was a mere (small lake) until at least the 1600s, is a good example of the way that meres get turned into mosses (a range of damp habitats) - see English Nature's explanation for more details.

Brought up in Yorkshire, a county that's famous for its countryside, I've always felt that Cheshire was a sort of Conference League county in comparison, but I begin to see that's not quite the case. I wonder why Cheshire doesn't make more of  it?

The beautiful Dorothy Clive Garden

An enormously enjoyable afternoon was spent at the Dorothy Clive Garden near Market Drayton in Shropshire. At last the weather was warm and sunny, and the garden's special feature was in full bloom.

It's a really unusual garden in two sections: a fairly conventional one with lawns and borders, with an astonishing quarry garden filled with rhododendrons, azaleas and bluebells. It was these which prompted the visit and I wasn't disappointed.

Paths spiral up and down the walls of the quarry, which was turned into a garden by Col. Harry Clive to provide a beautiful environment to tempt his ailing wife Dorothy out for walks. She suffered from Parkinson's Disease and sadly died soon after the garden was begun, but her late husband continued to develop the scheme until he handed it over to its management to a charitable trust in the 1950s.

The sound of this waterfall is audible throughout the quarry garden, and helps to orientate the confused visitor (like me).

At the entrance, this beautiful pool greets the visitor, and I was very excited to see newts swimming in it, something I've rarely seen before. Yet another 'new' creature (new to me) since I've been blogging, that's a real buzz for me,

I love how the planting includes plants some might consider weeds, such as yellow poppies and cow parsley. Just like my garden!

The bike is out!

For the first time this year, my bike got out of the garage and onto the road.

Now, I should explain I am not (absolutely not) in any way a serious biker. I like smooth surfaces and nice weather. Today, a quick trip to the bank (about to shut, hence walking was too slow) had both - thanks to a recent resurface of my road which transformed it from its Damascus-style shelled look to a near-mirrored surface. I should also say that my bike is a super-cheap ebay special with no suspension whatever,  whose best feature is its super-comfy discount store padded saddle.

It was great! I was almost beaming as I zoomed along with minimal effort, breeze in my face and a real sense of movement. How lovely to travel really rather fast, yet not to worry about the speed limit! (In practice, very unlikely to be breaking it, but that's how it felt). How handy to park right outside the bank with no fear of traffic wardens or traffic chaos.

It's funny how, each Winter, I forget  that my bike is a great form of local transport. So glad to remember it, each Spring!

Conspiracy of dull tasks

Very dull tasks: car repair and dental appointments. Plural. Whilst fairly small in themselves, they seem to have conspired to eat up the little bit of spare time I might have spent getting outdoors.

The weather might be a factor too: until the last week or so, I've often managed to sneak in a short walk between appointments. This means I'm in work clothes, which tend not to include several layers of thermals (a bit too warm in the office, and the beetroot-faced look is not a good one). So that hasn't happened much lately, this being the coldest, and probably windiest, Spring in England since 1962, according to the Met Office.

Still, this blog seems to chime with the zeitgeist about the value of the outdoors: the new National Trust magazine is all about it, including best NT wildlife spotting sites:

• Bosherston Lakes, Pembrokeshire
• Farne Islands, Northumberland
• Wicken Fen, Cambridgeshire
• Murlough Dunes, County Down
• Arnside Knott, Cumbria

It also lists NT sites which stage weekly 'parkruns' which sound lovely, although sadly none are near where I live:

• Killerton and Plym Valley in Devon
• Sheringham Park, Norfolk
• Tredegar House, Newport
• Wimpole Estate, Cambridgeshire

Undaunted, I'm inspired to explore Tatton Park, a (fairly) nearby NT site whose 1000 acre deer park dates back to 1290. My last visit revealed a new hide by one of the meres which didn't, sadly, enable me to spot the alleged kingfishers or sand martins, but maybe this time patience will prevail.

Fuzzy rabbit and crisp hare

I'm a huge admirer of the kind of wildlife photography I see in magazines and online. I'm a member of RSPB but to be honest, the only reason I open their magazine is to look at the photos. I'm amazed at the patience and determination which make possible a shot like this one, of a hare running towards the camera on a foggy morning:

Credit: Mark Williams, G900PHOTOGRAPHY

I love how the fog and the dew are visible, and every whisker on the hare too. Hares are one of my favourite animals so I find this photo really draws me in. Huge thanks to Mark for permission to use his photo.

I thought I'd have a go myself, on a stroll past a nearby evening rabbit location, but as I suspected, it's no mean feat to capture an animal with such intimacy. This is my puny effort, included only to show where I'm starting from:

Well, it's identifiably a rabbit but I can't claim much more than that. I realise that I can't expect too much at this early stage of getting to know the camera and how to use it.  I will practise and I will get better... in the meantime here are two hares in art, both of which I love:

This is an illustration from a Christmas card sent last year by a very old friend, it's called Winter Hare from a linocut print by Andrew Haslen.












This one is an original painting in oil by
local artist, Kate Gandolfo, titled Hare at Sunset;
it hangs in pride of place in my living room.

These hares are much easier to photgraph ;-)

Amazing birdsong at dusk

On a circular walk ending back at the little nature reserve, the dusk birdsong was magnificent. I especially noticed blackbirds which were both visible and audible, very decent of them to help out such a poor identifier of birdsong as me. My mother on the other hand has a great ear and can pick out lots of different birds by their song. She refers to it as the 'triple throated blackbird' which apparently describes its ability to sing three notes at once, as singers in some Asian countries do. It's not a term I've heard anywhere else and a web search draws a blank too. Has anyone else come across it?

This reminds me that a friend mentioned a new BBC podcast of birdsong, appropriately called 'Tweet of the Day', and makes me resolve to listen to it so I can brush up my skills. Click here to visit the page if you fancy investigating the song of the shag, the Dartford Warbler or the Grey heron.