We are now in the peak season for mushrooms and toadstools, and UK Fungus Day, this Saturday 8th October, seems as good a time as any to get out into nature and have a look at what’s around. But while this blog tends to be woodland related by the very fact of it appearing on this website, when it comes to the role of fungi in our wider ecosystems, it can be easy to miss the wood for the trees. Fungi might have a fairytale association with forests, but we all know that they do grow in other places. Take our most common commercially grown edible, for example, Agaricus bisporus – a fungi so familiar it goes by a plethora of common names, including common, white and chestnut mushroom. The British Mycological Society list ‘Cultivated Mushroom’ as it’s official common name, but when it is found growing naturally, it is almost always on grasslands of some description, just like the larger closely-related Field Mushroom (Agaricus campestris).  So let us take a temporary foray out of the forest into fresh pastures this month, where we shall focus on an eye-catching and particularly interesting group of grassland fungi whose importance to the natural world needs a lot more appreciation and investigation: the waxcaps.  Butter Waxcap (Hygrocybe ceracea) There’s a whole swathe of mushrooms one might see growing in fields and parklands and other grassy areas. Most are saprophytic, growing on decaying organic matter, like such well-known varieties as the Shaggy Inkcap and the majestic Parasol Mushroom, and you might see other types like the Egghead Mottlegill or the Stubble Rosegill growing in animal dung or among hedge cuttings or other organic litter at the edge of fields and pathways. The waxcaps, however, prefer “unimproved” grasslands, by which it is meant that the ground has been left undisturbed and has not been reseeded for some time, it is nutrient poor and has not been dosed with artificial fertilisers, and is most likely used as either permanent pasture or a regular hay cropping.  According to the book ‘Grassland Fungi: A Field Guide’ (2017), by Elsa Wood and Jon Dunkelman, such short-sward, nutrient-poor areas tend to be rich in wildflower species and a good moss flora is present. This latter point is important, because while waxcaps have been thought of both as being saprophytic and mycorrhizal (growing in association with plant roots), current research seems to suggest they grow in association with grassland mosses. Butter Waxcap (Hygrocybe ceracea) amongst the moss As such, waxcaps are incredibly useful environment indicators, and one of the key species types in a system known as CHEGD proposed by a certain E. Rald in Denmark in 1985 for evaluating the conservation value of a given grassland. CHEGD refers to five groups of fungi whose presence signifies a healthy grassland: Clavaroids such as club, coral and spindle fungi; the waxcaps are the H for Hygrocybe (literally meaning “wet head”); Enteloma, or pinkgills; Geoglossum, or earthtongues; and Dermoloma, a genus commonly referred to as “Crazed Caps”. There have subsequently been a few additions to the system and the taxonomical revisions that seem to regularly hit the world of mycology mean that Hygrocybe has been split into several other genuses that also refer to waxcaps, including Cuphophyllus and Gliophorus. Nevertheless, the name CHEGD and the principles behind it still stand.   Snowy Waxcap (Cuphophyllus virgineus) Unimproved grassland habitats are few and far between in some parts of the world, with many of our large, open areas given over to agricultural practices that favour the rapid rotation of crops, for example, or they are earmarked for building houses upon. Ancient grasslands might not get as much attention in environmental conservation and restoration as woodlands or even wetlands, but it is thought that the hyphal mats of the CHEGD fungi are likely good carbons stores in their own right which could easily be destroyed if ploughed or otherwise disrupted – so planting trees in grassland habitats might not reap the dividends in terms of carbon offsetting that some might have us believe. Village greens and graveyards are among the kind of environmentally unsullied areas one might expect to find waxcaps, but it seems the British Isles is rather blessed in terms of unimproved ancient grasslands, from the South Downs in Sussex to Hadrian’s Wall and in particular Scotland and Wales, from heaths to sand dunes and coastal slopes, and from hay meadows to roadside verges and the lawns of stately homes, as I discovered in a fascinating online talk given by Sean Cooch and Clare Blencowe this summer which was recorded and can be seen viewed here.  Meadow Waxcap (Cuphophyllus pratensis) As I mentioned in my July piece on the Beefsteak Fungus, we have quite a few fungi species in the United Kingdom which are relatively common here while rare on the European mainland, and we need to make more people aware of this, so that their habits are preserved and ancient trees are not chopped down or vital fields ploughed (such as with this regrettable faux pas by the National Trust last year). Habitat loss is key to the scarcity of the Date Waxcap (Hygrocybe spadicea), one of Britain’s rarest fungi, which is one of five species of grassland fungi that appear in the Section 42 list “Species of Principal Importance to the Conservation of Biodiversity in Wales”, meaning public bodies have a duty towards their conservation. It is the only waxcap on the list, which also includes Violet Coral (Clavaria zollingeri), Big Blue Pinkgill (Entoloma bloxamii), Olive Earthtongue (Microglossum olivaceum) and Dark-purple Earthtongue (Geoglossum atropurpureum). There are about 50 species of waxcaps in the UK, and while I’m not going to go into detail about them individually, the names alone should point towards their beautiful range of colours: Scarlet Waxcap (Hygrocybe coccinea), Snowy Waxcap (Cuphophyllus virgineus), Honey Waxcap (Hygrocybe reidii), Splendid Waxcap (Hygrocybe splendidissima) and the Pink or Ballerina Waxcap (Hygrocybe calyptriformis). Blackening Waxcap (Hygrocybe conica) I’m opting for the Blackening Waxcap (Hygrocybe conica) as my fungi of focus for this post, in that it is the most easily to recognise: while its sticky and distinctively conical caps start off in a range of colours between red and orange, as they age or are damaged, they blacken in a quite unmistakeable manner, eventually going completely black and looking a bit like a witches hat. It is also the most common, although now it is thought that rather than a single species, it is actually a species complex or a group of very closely related separate species. Waxcaps are most commonly found from mid-September to the first frosts in November. If the colours and textures of these beautiful fungi aren’t enough to get you out and about hunting, then like the Standing Oak Tree Fungus Survey I mentioned in my Beefsteak Fungi post, the Waxcap Watch Survey currently being conducted by the international conservation organisation Plantlife might provide further incentive to get involved in an invaluable citizen science project. A Blackening Waxcap beginning to blacken. No real mycological knowledge is needed for this. The basic guide is to find a suitable area and check it out for these CHEGD, and only record the number of different colours of what you find. Whether you find much or don’t, enter the results using the App downloaded from the website, and they will be recorded on this interactive map. Some sites might not yield much, but they will at least be marked on the map as a red dot meaning “not much was recorded at this site but it’s worth having a look another time.” In contract, Green will show a vast diversity of species, with orange somewhere in between. I’ve not entered any data myself at the moment, as I’ve not found anything yet this year, but whereas the evidence shows a great waxcap diversity of sites in Wales, Scotland and the Southwest of England, there is little evidence of anything in my surrounding area in Kent. This is certainly not to say there’s nothing there. In previous years I have discovered a good variety of waxcap species in the village of Keston, just outside Bromley, a Parrot Waxcap in the grounds of Walmer Castle, and Blackening Waxcaps aplenty in the reclaimed coal spoil site of Betteshanger Park outside Deal. I am clearly overdue a revisit to these sites to record these finds. The astonishing colours and textures of the Goblet Waxcap (Hygrocybe cantharellus) For those who wish to dig deeper into the subject, there’s a free downloadable PDF on the Plantlife website providing a basic guide to the identification and management of waxcap and grassland fungi, listing about a dozen species. A fuller range can be looked in this dedicated section in the fabulous First Nature website, and if the sheer number look a bit daunting, then you’ll be happy to read that the Sussex Biodiversity Record Centre has provided this online Grassland Waxcap Identification Support Tool. Clare Blencowe details her love of waxcaps and the process behind developing this tool in the Newsletter of the National Forum for Biological Recording issue 58. And finally, the University of Aberystwyth provide a wealth of information on their Waxcap Website. Hopefully this will spur some of you on to head out into the grasslands on UK Fungus day and beyond to record your findings for the Waxcap Watch Survey. This kind of data provided by citizen scientists could prove really useful in making sure our unimproved or “unspoilt” natural areas remain so, and while there’s never been a case of a mushroom stopping a housing development, building up a public awareness of what we have in this country is essential. Blackening Waxcap  

If bumblebees are exposed to heat stress during their development (they go through four stages : egg / larva / pupa / adult or imago) their bodies develop asymmetries.  The wings in particular are affected, so the left and right wing are shaped differently.  This asymmetry can be measured and has been used by a team from the Natural History Museum and Imperial College to investigate how changing climate over time has affected bees. They investigated four species of bumblebee [Bombus hortorum, B. lapidarius, B. pascuorum and B. muscorum] in museum collections that dated back to 1900 CE.  The bees were ‘held’ in collections at various museums  [Natural History Museum (London), National Museums Scotland (Edinburgh), Oxford University Museum of Natural History, Tullie House Museum and Art Gallery Trust (Carlisle) and World Museum (Liverpool)].   [caption id="attachment_38920" align="alignleft" width="300"] Landing[/caption] Using digital images of many bees collected at different times over the last 130 years, they measured the asymmetry of their wings.  The data from these measurements were then correlated with information about annual rainfall and mean annual temperature in the year the bee was collected.  It became clear that wing asymmetry was associated with hotter and wetter years; and that each of the bee species displayed greater asymmetry, hence stress, in the second half of the twentieth century.  As hotter and wetter conditions are predicted to become more frequent with climate change, it is probable that bumblebees will experience greater stress, indeed they may be in for a ‘rough time’ as this century progresses. Apart from investigating wing asymmetry, the team used a leg from some of the historical specimens to analyse the DNA / genetic make-up of the bumblebees (B. lapidarius).   With the DNA data from these bees (dating aback over a century),  the Natural History Museum and the Earlham Institute were able to construct a ‘reference genome’ - a standard against which they can see how bee genomes change over time.  This may ultimately reveal how bees are adapting (or not) to a changing climate / environment.

The European hornet (Vespa crabo) is an eusocial insect.  That is to say, hornets live in colonies, with some 200 / 400 individuals in each colony.  A colony is founded by a fertilised queen, who emerges from hibernation in spring. Hornet queens are the sole survivors of an old colony after  a UK winter and they emerge as the weather finally starts to warm in early spring.  They then seek a warm, dry place to start nest construction. Once a nest location has been secured, they lay eggs that hatch into larvae.  The larvae are fed on protein-rich food (chewed up insects) and then they pupate; undergoing metamorphosis [a complete reorganisation of the body].  An adult hornet worker then emerges from the pupa some two weeks later.   These are ‘sterile’ female workers, who take over nest building and collecting food for the next set of developing larvae.   The developing colony lives within the papery nest its a (a bit like papier mâché), adding to the structure as the colony grows.  Twigs, bark and other plant material is broken up, chewed and shaped to form the nest. This material is glued together by their saliva.  Larvae that hatch in the summer are either fertile queens or males.  The males (drones) do not contribute to nest building, food foraging etc.  But in autumn, the males (drones) and the new queens leave the nest to mate.  The fertilised queens hibernate over winter, emerging in spring to start a new nest.  The ‘sterile workers’ and the male hornets die with the onset of winter. In other colonies of social insects, like honeybees, female workers don’t reproduce due to the pheromones that are released by the Queen. This was thought to be the case for European hornets but instead worker hornets enforce ‘sterility’ by physically destroying any worker-laid eggs or the workers laying them ! The food of a hornet is surprisingly varied. They can hunt and capture a wide variety of invertebrate prey (beetles, wasps, moths, dragonflies, robber flies - they may even prey on honey bees).  In many ways, hornets are useful in that they predate on a number of  garden and agricultural pests. Much of this prey is then chewed up to feed the growing larvae.  In return for this material, the larvae willingly ‘exude’ for the adults  a sugary liquid for them to feed on. Adults can also be found feeding on sugar-rich sources such as tree sap, nectar, and ripe fruit. They are more likely to ‘scavenge’ food at the end of summer into autumn rather than hunt.  The head of the insect has dark, prominent eyes, its wings are a reddish-orange, whilst the abdomen is striped with yellow and brown.  Hairs are present on both thorax and abdomen but they are not ‘hairy’ like bumblebees.  The colour of hornets can vary and a number of regional colour forms are known across Europe.  Worker hornets are about 25 mm in length, whilst queens may be up to 35 mm., so significantly bigger than wasps.  Partly because of its colour and size, a hornet can be mistaken for the Asian Giant Hornet (previously reported on in the woodlands blog).  However, a recent report indicates that the european hornet can attack and kill the Asian Hornet, by biting its head off.  Asian hornets are a considerable worry as they attack and kill  honey bees, plus their venom can induce life threatening anaphylactic shock. Breaking news : Asian hornets seen in Essex.   https://www.independent.co.uk/climate-change/news/asian-hornet-uk-bees-insects-b2177217.html In the past, the European hornet was rarely seen in the UK, being largely confined to areas of central southern England, but it has expanded in range in more recent times and is to be found across the South East and even in some more northerly locations.  Female hornets (but not males) have a stinger.  The venom within the stinger contains mixture of various neurotransmitters (serotonin, dopamine, histamine) as well as a concoction of enzymes.  Best avoided !  

As long ago as 1772, it was discovered by the chemist Joseph Priestley that breathing Nitrous Oxide (N2O) could cause interesting effects on the brain - creating a sense of euphoria as well as anaesthesia, analgesia and even amnesia.  More recently the gas has been bottled in canisters and is then transferred to balloons to be inhaled.  Breathing in this gas creates "legal highs" - legal in the sense that inhalation is not illegal although selling "noz" or "whippets" for human consumption to under 18s is illegal.  But they are so popular that one person told me that any party worth attending will have a "Noz Bar" where you can buy canisters to induce their dream-like effects. Indeed these "laughing gas" cylinders became even more popular during the covid lock-downs and became the high of choice, despite the fact that it can be dangerous to take it especially if combined with alcohol or where there is a risk of falling.  Equally disturbingly, the canisters are often discarded and you will often see piles of them outside nightclubs but they are also frequently left on verges and outside woodlands and in public spaces.  To give an idea of the scale of use of nitrous oxide or "noz", it is officially the second most popular drug for 16-24 year-olds after cannabis and according to the ONS 9% of this age group have tried nitrous oxide. It would be hard to completely outlaw the use of these canisters because they are legitimately used in commercial kitchens for making whipped cream - hence the nickname "whippets" - and similar shaped canisters are also used by cyclists for filling repaired tyres.  With the low cost of mass production and large scale imports from China, the wholesale cost of these can be as low as 25p each and they are supplied in large cartons so vast numbers are deposited in the countryside.  It would also be hard to tax these as a technique for reducing consumption but the government seem at least to have considered making illegal their consumption as a recreational drug, but perhaps the biggest driver of consumption is the high profit margins made from reselling these.  A dealer will make a mark-up of 1,000% (ie 10x) and they are low volume so a lot of canisters can be carried by an individual.  Festivals and outdoor events are therefore an attractive place to sell these - so they get into the environment more readily than most containers. These 'silver bullets' of nitrous oxide are designed to be very tough as they contain concentrated gas but the effect of this is that they are almost indestructible and threaten to create a serious nuisance, littering the countryside.  It's possible that these canisters create useful homes for some insects and spiders - a bit like discarded drinks cans and bottles can do, but the effect is surely detrimental to conservation efforts.  Being heavy they are likely to sink into the ground and are hard to collect and they will be a nuisance for gardeners, metal detectorists and foresters.   So, with the rapid build-up of these discarded gas containers into the environment, the question is what on earth can be done about it?         Nitrous oxide has been linked to damage to the nervous system and paralysis.  A recent article details the risks.  

Very recently a young fox died in my back garden, so I waited until midnight to remove it.  I was prepared with a garden fork to move it to a derelict piece of land nearby where it could rot away harmlessly, but I got a shock.  The body had disappeared.  I was sure that the fox had been unquestionably dead (no breathing, flies etc) and no human would have disturbed the body.  So what happened?  We know that humans bury or cremate their dead very systematically and with much ceremony, but do foxes bury their dead family members? There are many reports of foxes carrying away other dead foxes, especially young ones but there are quite a few possible explanations.  Maybe they are taken away and eaten - foxes can be cannibalistic - and there are reports of foxes feeding on the corpses of other foxes.  Or potentially the body could have been taken away for burial in order to create a store of food for difficult times.  It seems possible too that older foxes may have taken the body away for a more ritual burial, perhaps partly to prevent the spread of disease.   In Roman times, Pliny wrote that he believed the only animals to bury their dead, apart from humans, were ants.  Ants seem to be genetically programmed to remove all dead and diseased animals from their nests and recent research has shown that honeybees can exhibit hygienic behaviour; this refers to uncapping and removing dead and diseased larvae and pupae from the hive.   Other animals, too, are sometimes reported to bury their dead.  Badgers, who do not make stores of food, have been reported to move their dead from the scene of the death.  Here views differ - some people say that the badgers move these corpses to bury them whilst others say they are just moving the bodies to a more secluded spot in order to feed on them.  Other reports, though rare, suggest that a group of badgers act together in burying a family member. - so-called badger funerals. Foxes are well known for feeding on carrion including the bodies of other foxes.  Indeed it seems that parent foxes occasionally bury young foxes from other groups in order to train their own cubs to dig them up.  They will also raid the food caches of other foxes so they clearly recognise the value of the protein from the body of a fellow dead fox.  So the dilemma remains - was my fox taken by other foxes for food or for a ritual burial?

And whoosh, just like that, the whole country changed… After the hottest, driest, summer on record, last Friday the rains finally broke over my parched little corner of the garden of England, transforming the woodlands into a veritable fungal jungle. Much of the joy in going out on regular photographic forays for mushrooms and toadstools for me comes from monitoring the changes in what can be found in specific sites across the seasons. You can head out several times a week and still find things that have popped up since your last visit, while previous finds can disappear without a trace as quickly as they appeared. There’s a definite fear of missing out on some exciting development or potential discovery when I don’t visit my local woods for a while. [caption id="attachment_38908" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Hairy Nuts Disco[/caption] My typical pattern is that I will head out and if I find something new that I’ve not seen yet that season, I will take a photograph of it, recording where and when I first noted its appearance for that year. I generally find around half a dozen or so different species on each trip, but rarely do I return having found nothing, no matter what the time of year, no matter how hot, cold, wet or dry it is. In this sense, I personally find fungi more interesting than plants, in that the number of species in a given wooded environment is far larger but it is very difficult to gauge much of what is there. Whereas the likes of ferns, brambles, bluebells, anemones etc, first emerge and grow relatively slowly, lingering for several months before dying back, most fungi just pop up and disappear within a matter of days. For much of the year they remain invisible as mycelium within their given substrate, with their fruiting bodies popping up in the form of mushrooms and toadstools so quickly that you have to be sure you’re around to catch the moment. Even something as massive and substantial as a Dryad’s Saddle (Cerioporus squamosus), a large bracket reaching up to a meter across with pores beneath and a characteristic hen pheasant pattern on its topside, can come and be gone within a matter of weeks. [caption id="attachment_38909" align="aligncenter" width="675"] The Dryad’s Saddle (Cerioporus squamosus) can come and be gone within a matter of weeks.[/caption] The early autumn period, which marks the beginning of the peak season for mushroom hunters, then, comes as something of a mixed blessing. While it’s hugely exciting seeing fungi that have been hidden underground or within dead wood manifesting their true colours for the first time, it’s almost overwhelming how much new stuff there is to take stock of. My woodland wander last Saturday, 10th September, reacquainted me with a plethora of perennial favourites I’d not seen for many, many months: Green Elfcups, Deer Shields, Oysterlings, Collared Parachutes, and numerous members of the Mycena genus. The most dramatic find, however, was a species that I’d not encountered before UK Fungus Day, on 2nd October of last year, during one of my first explorations of the woods nearby to the new home I’d just moved to, where I spied a tiny cluster of tiny brown cups nestling amongst the spines of a damp chestnut husk lying on the ground. [caption id="attachment_38910" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Hairy Nuts Disco[/caption] This specific host made identification a relatively straightforward matter. I’d found my first ever Lanzia echinophila, blessed with one of the most colourful monickers ever granted by those entrusted with coming up with the English common names listed by the British Mycological Society: the Hairy Nuts Disco. I must have come fairly late to the game last Autumn, however, if the amount I found after last week’s torrential downpours were anything to go by. Vast numbers of these tiny cups sprouted from every single one of the prickly decaying husks covering the ground (the “echinophila” part of its name means “spine-loving”).  [caption id="attachment_38911" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Hairy Nuts Disco[/caption] I’m not sure how common this species might be, as they are don’t seem to be listed in the otherwise exhaustive Fungi of Temperate Europe, but Peter Thompson’s Ascomycetes in Colour describes them as restricted to the rotting cupules of sweet chestnut (Castanea sativa), a tree which dominates the local woodlands of East Kent where it has been traditionally coppiced for use as gate poles and the like. Many of my local woodlands follow the model described in this previous Woodlands post on chestnut coppicing, with oak dotted amongst them, as well as a good number of hazel trees, also once coppiced extensively for use as hop-poles in the hop-growing heartlands of Kent. Many of the mixed deciduous woodlands in the area with chestnut, hazel and oak predominating are now in private hands, and no longer worked commercially, though some still are. [caption id="attachment_38914" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Hairy Nuts Disco[/caption] I would be curious to learn just how common a find Hairy Nuts Discos are across the United Kingdom. I found just one record on the The Fungal Records Database of Britain and Ireland (FRDBI), from September 2017 in Surrey, near Leatherhead, but there are a few more on iRecord, mostly from Sussex and Kent. These kind of things are probably not likely to be registered unless one is actively looking at chestnut husks, something which mushroom foragers in search of edibles are not likely to be doing.  In any case, the cups are relatively small, around 2-3mm in diameter, although can grow considerably larger to around a 1cm across, and the combination of the reddish brown colouration of the fertile hymenium inside the cup and the slightly lighter margins and stalk does make them rather blend in amongst the spikes. There are other small discomycetes fungi (i.e. disc-shaped ascomycetes) that can be found growing on fallen chestnut husks – I mentioned in passing the yellowish Hymenoscyphus serotinus in a post from June on the various lookalikes for fungus responsible for Ash Dieback, Hymenoscyphus fraxineus, as an example of the kind of thing the eagle eyed might spot rummaging around the forest litter.  [caption id="attachment_38913" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Hairy Nuts Disco[/caption] I’m still not entirely sure whether the name, memorable as it may be, describes this species particularly well, as these tiny fruit bodies aren’t particularly hairy, although there is a slightly fibrous texture to the outsides. That said, Hairy Nuts Discos are unlikely to be mistaken for anything else once you know what it is, so if you notice them while scavenging for chestnuts this autumn, please do post a comment here so we might get a better idea of how prevalent they are across the country. [caption id="attachment_38912" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Hairy Nuts Disco[/caption]

Ragwort is a common wild flower.  Its common names include, common ragwort, stinking willie and tansy ragwort (though its resemblance to true tansy is rather superficial).  It is not particularly a woodland plant, it is found in dry, open places - on waste land, waysides and (grazing) pastures.  It is not a plant favoured by land owners because it has toxic effects on cattle and horses.  It is generally considered to be a biennial, but can persist for some years. The stems are erect, straight, basically hairless.  The actual plant may grow to a height of two metres.  The leaves are lobed in a ‘pinnate’ fashion and have a distinctive smell that has lead to some of its common names - such as stinking willie.   The ragwort is a member of the daisy family (Compositae, now the Asteraceae), and its flowers are massed together into dense, flat topped clusters.  Each ‘flower’ is made up of many small, individual florets.  In the centre are the disc florets whilst around the edge are the ray florets.  The latter have a large lip or flap, which serves to increase the visibility of the plant to pollinators.  During the flowering season, a plant may produce many thousands of seeds.  The seeds have hairs attached to them, which help in dispersal. Ragwort is a plant that is much loved by pollinators - bees, flies, moths and butterflies.  It is generous in its nectar production, and has been placed in the top ten of nectar producers by one survey.   The plant also provides home and / or a food source for many invertebrate species, some of which feed on ragwort exclusively*, including some species on the IUCN RED LIST.  One species that is reliant of this plant is the cinnabar moth, whose status is described as ‘common and widespread, but rapidly declining”.  Interestingly, the cinnabar moth feeds on the plant absorbing the alkaloids and these make it distasteful to its predators . However, important as the plant is in ecological terms, it is toxic as it contains a number of alkaloids.  These are poisonous to various animals, such as horses and cattle.  The bitter taste is a ‘disincentive’ to much of the plant being eaten.  However, because of the alkaloids, it is one of the five plants (in the UK) named as ‘an injurious weed’ [as defined by the Weeds Act of 1959].  Some people may suffer an allergic reaction after handling the plant, experiencing a form of dermatitis. [caption id="attachment_38929" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Cinnabar moth, image courtesy of mcbeaner on Pixabay.[/caption] Further information on the Ragwortis available on WoodlandsTV, see below [embed]https://youtu.be/esfLW0nIvNo?si=DQ2Uokq7U1pAJYMZ[/embed] [caption id="attachment_38599" align="alignleft" width="300"] Cinnabar caterpillar[/caption] [caption id="attachment_38566" align="alignright" width="300"] Leaves of Ragwort[/caption]  

If you have planted new trees and there's been a spell of extremely dry weather, as happened in the summer of 2022, you might be very worried for their survival, but there are several things you can do to increase their chances.  This isn't just a problem for the first season because saplings can be at risk for the first three years after planting; it's also not a binary, live or die thing for your planting - usually some trees will survive and some will perish but the challenge is to maximise the percentage that make it through a drought.  Let's first consider how dry conditions affect trees.  The saplings' first response is often to increase root development to take up more water.  Your young plants will also seek to reduce water loss so the leaves will wilt or can even be shed even though it's only July or August, and this can lead to the saplings not having the ability to photosynthesise adequately.  So you need to do what you can to avoid water loss and, if practical, to apply water. So, to increase the chance of your saplings surviving you can, if practical, actually spread water around them but that may have to be done fairly regularly during the period of drought.  Ideally irrigation should happen overnight when evaporation is lower and that will also limit pest problems and "leaf burn" that may be associated with irrigation in full sun. An additional strategy is to weed the young trees thoroughly to reduce the competition for water.  This can be combined with firming up the soil around the base of your saplings to avoid the soil drying out through fissures.  To reduce evaporation and stop the weeds returning you can use a mulch around the base of your young trees - ideally a mulch mat or by spreading some woodchips or bark. A few weeks after the drought has passed but while the leaves are still on the saplings you can assess your losses and order new trees to replace those that have succumbed to the dry weather.  This process is described by foresters as "beating up" but when it comes to the actual planting this needs to be done carefully - only replace trees that you are sure have died rather than those which just lost their leaves early. For urban trees you can be prepared for a period of dry weather by installing watering tubes or bags which reduce surface run-off and make sure that the water reaches the tree roots.   It is unclear how many millions of trees have been lost to the 2022 drought but it certainly includes many mature trees as well as many newly-planted saplings and hedgerow shrubs.  It seems that droughts like this are part of a process of climate change and more such events are probable - so our woodlands will be under increasing stress over the next few years.  For those who are establishing new woodlands a sensible approach would be to plant only a proportion of the area each year and to select a wide variety of tree species.  It also suggests that for new woodlands you should, where possible, include the adopting of areas of natural regeneration - where trees have come up of their own accord - these self-set trees are likely to be very resistant / resilient to periods of extremely dry weather. [caption id="attachment_38870" align="aligncenter" width="600"] Drought - green shoots of recovery?[/caption]