It is good to have points of orientation in the woods. No matter how familiar with a particular spot you might be, these environments can change so dramatically throughout the seasons – paths and clearings become overwhelmed with brambles, branches that weren’t an obstacle in the winter become suddenly more so when covered in leaves, and woodlands are ironically much gloomier in the summer months with a thick canopy overhead than when the trees are bare – that it’s surprisingly easy to lose ones bearings.  One of the marker points in my favourite stomping ground, a chestnut coppice just outside of Canterbury, was a bracket fungus that I found growing from the top of a stump several years ago. It was a relatively easy identification for me from this sometimes daunting group – the labyrinthine arrangement of branching, elongated grooves quickly pointed me towards an Oak Mazegill, despite the fact it was growing on chestnut.  Oak Mazegill For several years, this particular specimen by the side of the path also signalled the point where I knew I’d entered into a sector of more ancient woodland, and one of those hotspot areas where there were usually lots of exciting finds nearby. Then one day it was gone – the clean cut at the base where it grew from the wood indicating that is had been consciously removed with a knife. Even now, about a year later, I can still see traces of the patch where it had endured on the top of the stump for so many seasons. The Oak Mazegill, or Daedalea quercina – the first part of its latin binomial referring to the figure of Daedalus who in Greek mythology constructed the labyrinth at Knossos housing the legendary minotaur – is a particularly prevalent fungi in my local woodlands; much more so because, as a perennial, the fruiting bodies last for years rather than rot back or drop off at the end of the season. It shares this aspect with the tough woody brackets like the Artists Conk (Ganoderma applanatum), covered in passing in a previous post on brackets, which has been known to last for decades. Oak Mazegills aren’t quite as durable, although I’ve no real idea how long a fruit body might last. Their flesh is tough, but still possible to make a clean cut through it with a sharp knife with relative ease, as if it were a piece of rubber. Oak Mazegill This species highlights the importance however of always looking at the underside when trying to identify brackets. The top is rather nondescript, a sort of buff, pale yellowish brown colour ranging to orangish brown and reaches up to 20cm across. They often grow in semicircular tiers, with the full width of the body firmly attached to the wood making them very difficult to dislodge, and sometimes have an upside-down pyramidal shape, so that if viewed in profile, the maze-like underside is very easy to see. The growth isn’t always so uniform, however, drawing attention to the fact that there can often be a fine line between the brackets and certain poroid resupinate or crust fungi, with the form they assume heavily influenced by the orientation of their substrate.  Oak Mazegills don’t always immediately form brackets when first emerging, with the specimen depicted here assuming a more resupinate form. For example, I found myself once very confused by a newly emerged Oak Bracket growing from the top of a  stump that had yet to form a cap, so that all that could be seen was a think bulbous growth covered in brain-like grooves that could look like a number of other thick poroid resupinate fungi, such as the Common Mazegill (Datronia mollis) – and it should be mentioned that the Common Mazegill, while often found in its flat resupinate form, can form caps if growing on a vertical substrate, albeit with thinner caps of a far darker colour. The not dissimilar resupinate fungus the Common Mazegill has a less pronouncedly maze-like pattern of pores Mature Oak Mazegills, I do find pretty distinctive, but the reason I’m covering them for this month is that it is during the summer months that the new fruitbodies start emerging, so if you have any problems identifying them, I’d suggest going back and monitoring their progress over the coming months, for there are a couple of species that you could confuse them with before they are fully grown. The first of these is the Birch Mazegill (Trametes betulina), but these form much more delicate annual fruitbodies which are thinner fleshed and more easily broken, with grooves on the underside that are sharper edged and look more like conventional mushroom gills (although as I described in the post linked above, these aren’t true gills) and a felty upper surface. They also grow on birch, rather than oak or chestnut, so there shouldn’t so much room for confusion here. The Blushing Bracket is less ‘chunky’ than the Oak Mazegill, despite certain similarities when viewed from above. Rather more easily confused for the Oak Mazegill, however, especially in their early stages of growth, is Daedaleopsis confragosa, the Blushing Bracket. Again, these feel a lot slighter, thinner and flatter than the chunky, coarse gilled bodies of the Oak Mazegill, although the flesh is similarly tough.  However the base is much narrower where it grows out of the wood, making it look more fan-shaped. Looking underneath, the pores are much less maze-like, and more like straight lines, which become more elongated as the cap grows radially outwards.  The underside of the Blushing Bracket reveals very different patterns than that of the Oak Mazegill The cap surface starts out a pale beige, but as it grows, it darkens through pinks, browns, russets and vinaceous purples to near black, hence the name. They also are more pronouncedly ‘zonate’, with subtle differences in texture and colour appearing from the centre and outwards. The Blushing Bracket might be confused with a number of other long-pored brackets in their early stages, but if you follow their development across the months leading into winter, it soon becomes clear what they are. Again, they favour deciduous woods, but are less likely to be found on oak and chestnut than on birch, alder and willow. Some of the literature suggests that Blushing Brackets are perennials, like the Oak Mazegills, but my experience suggests that while the new fruit bodies from any given summer may be found well into the winter, very few make it past a year. Blushing Bracket : The upper side of the Blushing Bracket darkens and reddens across the winter months Blushing Bracket : Sometimes reddening to a dramatic deep red These are but a couple of the more common hardwearing brackets with elongated pores that are found in the UK that might seem a little drab when just glimpsed in passing, but actually are quite interesting when you know what you are looking at. Like so many fungi, the exact differences are difficult to describe precisely in words, but once you get a feel for them, they can be recognised at a glimpse.  If you are a regular woodland wanderer, it’s worth paying at least passing attention to them because, as mentioned before, the new fruitbodies will have already begun appearing by now, and given that they’ll be with us for some months yet to come, it’s rather fascinating looking at how both species develop in form and colour. Additional images. Blushing Bracket Oak Mazegill Oak Mazegill Blushing Bracket   

The redwoods are special trees because of their size and age.  There are three species : the coastal redwood (Sequoia sempervirens ), the giant sequoia / redwood (Sequoiadendron giganteum), and the dawn redwood (Metasequoia glyptostroboides) They are the most massive trees on earth.  The coastal redwoods are the tallest of the three species.  The largest was measured to have a height of some 379 feet (115.5M).  Not only are these trees large but they are also impressive because of their longevity, Read more...

Weather-wise, it’s been a bit all over the place this Summer. However, the hotter spells punctuated by heavy downpours that characterise July, along with the dense leaf canopy of our broadleaf woodland areas at this time of year, have resulted in an at times oppressive humidity that seems particularly conducive to the first blooms of our more familiar cap-and-stem types of mushrooms and toadstools, marking a turning point that will take us within a couple of months to a period where our wooded areas will soon be flooded with fungi. Annoyingly, the summer months similarly see our woodlands buzzing with all manner of flying and biting insects, making it less tempting to head out and find and photograph the species more prevalent in this early period of mycological bounty! Read more...

Across the globe, insects are in decline.  There are several (over-lapping) causes of the decline, ranging from habitat loss, the effect of artificial lighting, the use of agrochemicals (e.g. the neonicotinoids) and herbicides,  such as glyphosate.  The latter is one of the most commonly used weedkillers and might not be expected to affect insects.  However, recent research has shown that it can affect the formation of the hard exoskeleton of beetles.  It does this  by affecting their symbiotic bacteria; these contribute an essential building block (an amino acid) for the exoskeleton. Early summer should be ‘peak beetle time’ Read more...

The Flow Country is a large area of peatland and wetland in the north of Scotland (Caithness and Sutherland). It is one of the largest expanses of blanket bog in Europe. It is characterised by deep layers of peat and bog pools.   Wetlands, like this,  are important  as They offer a significant wildlife habitat and They act as mitigating agents in terms of climate change (locking up large amounts of carbon). However, some four decades ago, parts of the Flow Country were planted with conifers,  there were financial incentives to  this planting; namely : grants were available towards the costs of planting other costs were tax deductible so investors spent only 20p for every £1 of capital invested prospectively, income from timber was to be virtually untaxed. This ‘forestation’ of wetlands is now generally regarded as a mistake, not only damaging a unique environment but leading to increased carbon emissions.  Now it seems possible that similar mistakes may be made again.    Read more...

There is not a lot of love for resupinate or crust fungi even amongst fungi specialists, yet alone the wider community of naturalists and nature recorders. I’ve outlined some of the reasons why this might be so in my previous postings on Hairy Curtain Crusts, Elder Whitewash, and Cinnamon Porecrusts – these are mainly related to their inedibility and difficulty in identifying them. However, in last month’s focus on Antrodia carbonica, I did hint at why one might, perhaps even should, develop an interest in the subject, or at least an awareness – especially if you are an arborist, builder or anyone else who deals with wood or timber for a living. I remember an occasion shortly after I first started dipping my toes into the subject, when I found a striking example of a corticioid fungus (i.e. possessing a smooth surface, without pores) on one of the trees in an avenue of cypresses stretching alongside a public right of way through farmland. The bulk of the crust that spread thinly across the bark of its host was white, with a distinctive cobwebby margin. Read more...

Swifts are amazing creatures - they migrate from Europe to Africa and back every winter, they cruise at 70mph and in a lifetime they might fly a distance equivalent to three return trips to the moon.  There is some question about where swifts actually mate - it is certain that they can copulate in mid-air, but they also routinely mate at their nest sites.  Possibly mating on the wing is a lightening quick liaison between individuals that are paired with someone else - a case of a 'swift quickie', that may have the effect of widening the gene pool - even if it's a long shot.  Despite all their aerial stunts, they spend about a month every year incubating eggs or brooding chicks on a solid surface such as a ledge or crevice, an old nest or a specifically designed swift box or swift brick. Read more...

Following seemingly weeks of awful weather and awful news the 16th March was an amazing spring day, clear blue skies and gentle warm sunshine - a good day to see what was new at the wood.  As it turned out there was plenty. We heard our first Chiffchaff of the year, and saw Great Tits beginning to explore nest boxes. When we arrived the pair of Buzzards were active, and we also noticed a male Wren busy building a nest in a large insect box we were given at Christmas, and fixed close to the ground by our coffee spot. They are confident birds, but difficult to photograph because of their cryptic colouring and speed, and their penchant for the dapple of undergrowth and nooks and crannies. However this bird was out and about, and back and forth to the box collecting moss from the base of near by trees.  Read more...