Fallow deer were probably introduced to England in Norman times and soon established themselves in woodlands and forests. Indeed, deer hunting was a popular ‘sport’ [for royalty and the aristocracy] for centuries. Fallow deer tend to live in isolated, single sex groups. At the time of the annual rut (September to October), the sexes come together and young are usually born in the following May / June, and weaned by October. The herds tend to forage over a wide area. staying only for a short time in any one place. They are herbivores and grazers.  They feed on ground vegetation, particularly during spring and summer. They may also take the bark from trees, this can  cause distorted growth of grazed plants or  result in the death of young trees or prevent the  natural regeneration of woodland.  Allow the entry of disease causing bacteria or fungi.  Recently staff from Bangor and Reading university have investigated the diet of fallow deer in some detail.  They studied deer in three woodlands in the Elwy Valley (North Wales).  The researchers use a DNA sequencing technique termed metabarcoding, which can identify which plants are present in deer droppings.  Samples from droppings were collected  from the woods every month for two years.  Samples were also collected from deer in a local zoo for comparison.  The researchers expected the deer droppings to contain lots of grass DNA all year round, with material from broadleaf trees at certain times of year.   However, the results were surprising in that bramble made up to half of the diet of the woodland deer in late summer, and rose to 80% in winter.  Perhaps unsurprisingly they ate large quantities of acorns in autumn, and leaves from the broadleaved trees in Spring and Summer.  Grass turned out to be a small part of their diet, reaching a peak of 6% in the Autumn.  Also rare was DNA from coniferous trees. A survey of the vegetation in the woodlands showed bramble (Rubus fruticosus) was abundant, offering edible material throughout the year.  It was a consistent food source. The ‘dominance’ of bramble in woodlands may be the result of the opening up of tree canopies as a result of severe storms [more frequent in recent times], and the death of trees from disease.  Access to light, means that brambles can regrow quickly and colonise open ground, where trees have fallen.  Brambles can form a prickly barrier around young trees, which protects the saplings from the browsing of the deer.  However, it can also smother young trees and shade out some of the woodland ground flora.  Intensive deer browsing can limit the growth of brambles, so there is a balance to be struck.   Analysis of the different plant DNA’s in deer droppings [faeces] of the six deer species in the UK will help build an understanding of the ecological role of deer in our woodlands. Full details of the DNA metabarcoding work here :  https://besjournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/2688-8319.70008 or https://www.bangor.ac.uk/news/2025-02-10-why-the-study-of-deer-poo-in-north-wales-could-shed-light-on-the-future-of-woodland  

A good friend of mine is tragically dying of cancer. He has spent a good part of his retirement chopping and stacking logs for his home and he sees this as part of his duty to look after his wife. He has often explained to me how to make kindling and how to split logs efficiently and safely and, like me, he has always been interested in how other people stack their logs. This picture is one of his own log piles. Storing firewood is far more than piling logs in a corner. In the UK’s damp climate, how you stack and season wood makes a big difference to how well it burns. The secret is to keep it dry, to create airflow and to make it accessible. A rule of thumb among woodfuel users is that a well-stacked pile may be about 70% “solid wood” with about 30% air gaps, whereas loose heaps might drop to only 40% wood or less and are hard to handle. Stacking also allows you to go higher and a wood stack can be used as a temporary wall for a screen or a windbreak. Logs should be off the ground (often on pallets or a raised plinth) and arranged with small spaces between them rather than in a random heap. Ultimately moisture levels need to drop below 20%. Many people - such as my friend - use the straightforward “row stack” method: logs laid horizontally, tightly but with small air gaps, in rows on a raised base, with a cover on top but open sides. It’s functional, efficient, and relatively quick. However, more decorative or artistic stacks have become popular, sometimes as garden features, but also as a way of celebrating wood itself. One example is the Holz Hausen or "round house" where logs are arranged in a circular, inward-leaning structure to shed rain and encourage drying. Another system is crisscross or “grid” stacking (alternating orientations by layer) to add structural strength while allowing airflow. Sometimes hobbyists create log mosaics or colour-sorted stacks, either by colour of the wood or the bark to build visual patterns. There have even been stacks shaped as domes, cubes, or sculptures. Some “log art” images show stacked owl or heart shapes, or wood as garden sculpture. The Dull Men’s Club is a UK group celebrating “mundane” hobbies and they frequently share pictures of beautiful wood stacks. In some rural UK properties, it’s not unusual to see stacks that form entire sheds or rows along wood sheds measuring over 10 metres long. Some woodland owners will harvest and stack multiple seasons’ worth of fuel, turning their woodlot into a homegrown energy store. The Dull Men's Club website says that they do a lot "more than watch the paint dry." An emerging idea is that wood fuel is virtuous as a locally grown energy source. People with small woodlands or hedgerows may plan rotational coppicing or tree thinning with the intent to supply their own heating. The idea is: plant a tree today, in 20–40 years it's fuel, stack it well, burn it in winter. Fuel from your land, stacked carefully, can contribute to sustainability. The old saying is that it warms you three times - when you cut it, when you handle it and when you burn it. Stacking firewood is a humble but fascinating intersection of craft, utility, and sometimes artistry. Smart stacking is almost as important as the wood itself.  And for those treating wood as a renewable, grown-on-your-land fuel, it becomes a statement of independence and planning. For some people their "firewood legacy" will be more than just the years' supply of firewood they have left behind, but will also be what they have passed on to others about how to handle and store firewood.

Blackberries are one of the best-known fruits in the rose family. They’re often collected in the wild from hedgerows and woodlands.  September and October are usually the peak months for blackberry forays, but this year blackberries [with the exceptional warmth of the Spring and summer months], they have been ripening early.  Some ripe fruits were spotted back in June!  The fruits start off green, but as they mature they become red and finally black from stem to tip. The bramble has a perennial root system with biennial stems. In the first year, the stems (sometimes called canes) grow vegetatively, but in their second year they produce flowers and fruit.   Then they die back but the dried stems together with their prickles / thorns can persists for some time.  It is a good idea to wear some protective gloves when rummaging for these fruits. The leaves of the bramble are compound, with 3 - 5 - 7 leaflets which have serrated edges.  Its flowers are white to a subtle shade of pink.  They have 5 petals and first appear in early Spring.  They are attractive to pollinators such as bumblebees. Blackberries are a nutritious fruit, rich in Vitamin C but also contain other nutrients, e.g. Vitamin K and manganese.  A cup full of blackberries can provide 7 grammes of dietary fibre.   The colourings of the fruits (anthocyanins and flavonoids) are a source of antioxidants. Blackberries are a food source for wildlife food, many birds, foxes, and many small mammals (for example the dormouse) feed on the berries.  However, this earlier appearance of autumnal fruits may cause problems.  For example, some birds feed upon insects in the Spring and summer months but by autumn they move over to seeds and fruits, like blackberries. But what if the fruits have come and gone, and there are just the shrivelled remains of once juicy fruits.  There could be a 'food gap', this would be especially series for animals trying to prepare for the relatively barren days of winter.  Deer may feed on bramble leaves. If large amounts of bramble are allowed to grow in a woodland, it can affect the microclimate of the ground  layers.  This influences the growth and development of other plants. Whilst brambles can offer protection from browsing by deer and / or rabbits of young tree saplings, they can also suppress the development of light loving species.  A thicket of brambles can also offer a home to some birds, like the nightingale. Further reading - see here

My husband and I bought Lighthouse Meadow in 2022 from woodlands.co.uk.   I’d always wanted to plant my own woodland and see the wildlife changes as the land evolved from grazed grassland to biodiverse woodland.  Our preference was to avoid using plastic tree guards due to the environmental waste. The site is also windy so we wanted to encourage wind-induced root development to have stronger, more wind resistant trees: tree guards can limit strong root development, resulting in weak, top-heavy trees which are more prone to damage in strong winds. The protect the young trees from predation by deer and rabbits, we installed a deer fence with rabbit mesh. Featured image is a male fallow deer peering through our fence wishing he could eat one of my hazel saplings.  We used mulch mats around the base of each young tree, held down with five bamboo pegs. Over two years we have planted 3000 trees using this method. I won’t lie, it is hard work! We used mulch mats made from jute, a 100% biodegradable natural fibre. Their purpose is to suppress the growth of grass around the young tree. They are permeable, allowing air, nutrients and water to pass through them which also helps in reducing moisture loss. In the above photo, Tim has secured a mulch mat around a hazel sapling using a bamboo peg at each corner and a fifth peg to fix the flap of the mulch mat in place. NB : we found that a rubber mallet was kinder on knuckles than a metal one! We are now 18 months on from planting our first trees so I’ve had a chance to assess how well the mulch mats have performed. Last year (2024) had a wet summer and the grass grew very tall. We found that many of the mulch mats had started to biodegrade around the one year point. Our field is steeply sloping which meant that tall grass at the top end of the mulch mats tended to flop over, swamping the shorter saplings like wild plum and oak. So we needed to do quite a bit of maintenance, uncovering some of the trees and trimming the grass. The mulch mats had worked very effectively to suppress the grass immediately around the sapling. The  photo below shows a hornbeam sapling we planted 18 months ago. I’ve pulled back the grass which had flopped over. Although the mulch mat has completely biodegraded, you can still clearly see the square shape where it once was and the grass growth immediately around the sapling continues to be suppressed. The tree is healthy and now tall enough to be above the grass. We planted our second lot of trees in November 2024. However, we have had to reaffix and replace some of the mulch mats we used then because they were damaged during Storm Darragh. We found that the extra strong storm winds were able to rip up some of the mulch mats, despite being pegged down with five bamboo pegs. However, we weren’t the only ones needing to do some maintenance following the storm. Our neighbour has been planting trees using tall plastic tree guards and stakes. His trees also suffered during the storm and he had to re-stake and re-affix many tree guards. So although we found ourselves doing a fair bit of extra work to reattach the mulch mats, other tree protection methods had also suffered and required maintenance. The above photo of a young oak we planted Autumn 2024 shows how the strong Storm Darragh winds have torn up the mulch mat. So, would I use mulch mats again in future? Yes, because after 18 months I can see that the impact of using mulch mats is still benefitting the trees, despite the mulch mat having degraded. However, we have learnt a lot in the last year and we’ve bought a petrol mower (with a ‘drive’ function) and have regularly mowed strips across the field trimming the grass along the top end of the mulch mats to reduce the risk of tall grass flopping over the saplings. We have also learnt that our field has a very substantial population of field voles and the mulch mats don’t protect the saplings from voles gnawing the bark. We have lost around 5% of the trees to vole damage. Tree guards also wouldn’t protect a sapling as the voles can still easily get up inside the tree guards. We are therefore adopting a nature-based solution and will be erecting tall perches for birds of prey. We wish to encourage tawny and barn owls, buzzards and other raptors to the field to feed on the voles. For more information on our use of mulch mats, we made a film for WoodlandsTV, Plastic Free Tree Planting. We are also going to follow the recent WoodlandsTV film by Jack D’Gama and George Hassall on Birds of Prey Perches: one way to reduce rodent damage to young trees as inspiration for our owl and buzzard perches to manage the vole population.

I was born in the 1950s, a time when black smudges began to appear mysteriously on the trunks of sycamores in Britain. The culprit: sooty bark disease, a fungal infection caused by Cryptostroma corticale. Back then, I had no idea my life would unfold alongside a slow but steady parade of arboreal afflictions. But looking back now, I can measure the years not just in milestones and birthdays—but in the trees we lost along the way. Sooty bark disease doesn’t get the headlines these days, but it was a grim marker of post-war environmental change. Sycamores, long naturalised in Britain, would suddenly wilt and die, the bark flaking away to reveal a sinister black fungus. We didn’t yet understand how much stress—particularly from the hot, dry summers of the 1950s—played into its spread. It was an early sign: a warning that trees are far more vulnerable than they seem. Then came the true giant of tree diseases: Dutch elm disease. It began making headlines in Britain in the late 1960s and ravaged the landscape through the 1970s and '80s. Caused by a fungus (Ophiostoma novo-ulmi) spread by elm bark beetles, this pandemic decimated the native elm population. It’s estimated that over 25 million elms were killed in the UK alone. I remember the shift in the landscape. Once-common elm-lined avenues and hedgerows simply disappeared. As a child, I’d climbed elms in the park; as a young adult, I watched them vanish almost overnight. Dutch elm disease wasn’t just a biological tragedy—it was a cultural one. It marked a turning point, an awakening to the vulnerability of our treescapes. The decades ticked by. Chestnut trees became a familiar sight in my children’s drawings. But by the 2000s, I noticed the conkers looked smaller, sadder. Bleeding canker of horse chestnut, caused by Pseudomonas syringae pv. aesculi, began spreading rapidly across the UK. It causes a sticky, rust-coloured ooze from the bark and often leads to dieback and death. The disease didn't just affect the health of the trees; it diminished a cultural icon—conker tournaments and autumn walks lost something in its slow assault. Around the same time, sudden oak death (Phytophthora ramorum) emerged, though it affects more than just oaks. First identified in the US in the 1990s, it reached the UK in the early 2000s, causing widespread concern in woodlands and nurseries. It targets a range of species including rhododendrons, larches, and beech. The name alone—sudden oak death—carried a dramatic finality. Then came perhaps the most alarming of all in my later years: ash dieback, or Hymenoscyphus fraxineus. First identified in Poland in the 1990s, it reached the UK in 2012. It’s a true scourge, expected to kill up to 80% of the UK’s ash trees. These aren’t just forest trees—they line our roads, dominate hedgerows, shade our back gardens. Their decline feels intimate. Walking in ash woodland today is like passing through a ghost forest. The signs are unmistakable: leaf loss, crown dieback, diamond-shaped lesions. I’ve watched entire copses hollow out over just a few seasons. The cost is measured not only in timber or beauty, but in ecological networks—over 1,000 species depend on ash. And let’s not forget the oak processionary moth, which first arrived in the UK via imported oak trees in 2005. While not a disease in the fungal sense, it’s a threat nonetheless. Its caterpillars strip leaves and their tiny hairs can trigger allergic reactions in humans and animals. Forestry teams now issue warnings during their seasonal outbreaks. Oaks have stood proud for centuries, but even they are not safe anymore. There are others: sweet chestnut blight, plane wilt, the pine processionary moth, and new strains of Phytophthora that attack multiple species. The list gets longer, not shorter. So what’s going on? Part of the answer is globalisation. Trees, soil, and ornamental plants now travel easily between continents, bringing pathogens with them. Climate change plays its role too—stressed trees are more vulnerable, and warmer conditions allow pests and diseases to thrive. And while tree diseases aren’t new, our ecosystems today are more fragmented and less resilient. [caption id="attachment_8120" align="alignleft" width="400"] Leaf miner in Horse Chestnut[/caption]   What strikes me most, looking back, is how predictable this pattern has become. Every decade or so, a new name enters our vocabulary. Each time, we scramble to learn its symptoms, its vectors, its likely victims. And each time, the outcome is similar: loss, adaptation, then a wary lull before the next wave. Measuring my life in tree diseases might sound grim—but it’s also grounding. Trees are long-lived beings; their suffering unfolds slowly, deliberately. Watching them struggle is a reminder that the natural world is neither invincible nor immune to human action. The next great tree crisis is likely already on its way. But perhaps with better biosecurity, international cooperation, and public awareness, we can at least slow the tide. For me, though, the trees I’ve known—and the diseases that marked their passing—will always be a living calendar. A record of change, and of resilience.    

Many woodland owners build a cabin. As long as this isn’t a permanent dwelling there is often no problem with neighbours or planners. It can be used as a storeroom, a shelter from the rain or a place to stay overnight. In some regions of the UK, such as central Scotland, these structures have been positively encouraged by authorities and lobbied for by enthusiasts, such as those running the 1,000 huts campaign: https://thousandhuts.org/ The position of your cabin When siting your cabin there are many considerations: you may want a good view from a big window but not an unsightly view of the cabin itself - an eyesore on the landscape is unlikely to make you popular with neighbours and will encourage authorities to question its legitimacy. You may like being near a stream or you may want to avoid a spot near water because it risks too many unwelcome visits from mosquitoes. Even when you have established your location you may well want to camouflage your cabin or at least make it discreet - perhaps by painting it dark green or by planting climbers to grow over it. Most people build their own cabin but it is possible to buy ready-made woodland huts or portable shepherd’s huts. Another approach, if access is good enough, is to buy a shipping container and convert and camouflage that. These typically cost about £2,000 new but are much cheaper second-hand. They have the advantage of being secure and, should you change your mind, they can easily be removed or relocated. Off-grid living How you use your cabin will also be seasonal - in the winter you might want to hunker down inside but in the summer when it’s warmer you can use the space in front as an outdoors retreat - it can be a spot for outdoor cooking, for chopping wood or just sitting and contemplating life. Most cabins are off-grid in not having power or water or sewerage but you might want to put in a solar panel and a battery so that you have a light in the evenings. For lots of cabin-owners being off-grid is a big part of the attraction - getting away from it all, from screens and being closer to nature.  Security and protection Cabin owners protect their cabins very differently.  Some just close the door, lock it, and hope for the best while others protect their cabin by putting shutters over the windows - usually wooden and sometimes even metal.  Much depends on how exposed your woodland is to unwanted intrusion. Headaches can come from vandalism or planners and in both cases a “good neighbour policy” is recommended - so that neighbours don’t feel threatened and understand what you are trying to do. Good neighbours are often willing to keep an eye on your cabin when you are not there and they will be supportive if the planners ever challenge the existence of your cabin. Handled thoughtfully, your woodland cabin will be a little slice of paradise — not a headache.

A plant growing in the wrong place is sometimes described as a weed, but it can be more than just an inconvenience.  Plants in the wrong place can have a devastating effect on ecosystems, dramatically reducing biodiversity.  The same is true for certain animals - those that have 'traveled' from their natural habitats to 'foreign areas’ where they have no natural predators to keep their numbers in check.  Foreign or alien species are sometimes introduced to an area in the belief that they will solve local problems with pests or over-population of a native species.   A classic example of this is the cane toad.  Native to  parts of central and South America, the cane toad is preyed upon by a variety of animals such as caimans, snakes, eels and some fish species.  It was introduced into sugar plantations in various parts of the world to control beetles that were damaging sugar cane crops. Since this was a successful strategy in Puerto Rico, the toad was introduced elsewhere, notably Australia.  Just over a hundred toads were released in Queensland in 1935, with more released in 1937.  Unfortunately the toad did not effectively control the grey-backed cane beetles (the intended target), and they found other things to eat.  Their numbers grew exponentially and they spread into other areas, such as the Northern Territory and New South Wales.  These poisonous toads have significantly reduced biodiversity particularly affecting native amphibians and reptiles. Sometimes foreign species are introduced as ornamental plants or 'exotics'. During the Victorian period many plant species were brought to the UK for country estates.  Rhododendrons that were collected across Asia and the Himalayas became popular in parks and gardens.  However, Rhododendron ponticum, a species native to the southwestern Iberian Peninsula (parts of Portugal and Spain) and the southern Black Sea Basin (parts of Bulgaria & Turkey)  has been less well received.   It was introduced in the eighteenth century by Conrad Loddiges.  Loddiges grew seed and sold on young plants as an ornamental flowering shrubs for gardens, parks and estates. On country estates and heathland areas, it was planted as cover for game birds as its dense growth offered shelter and protection. It has since spread aggressively and is now considered to be an invasive species. An invasive species is a non-native species that spreads and damages its new environment. R. ponticum poses a threat to key woodland ecosystems, such as Atlantic Oak Woodland.  When this shrub ‘invades’, it comes to dominate the area.  It creates deep shade so the woodland floor becomes a dark and ‘barren’ place. Many ground flora species are lost so that only shade tolerant mosses and liverworts remain.  These plants form a ‘dense mat’ of vegetation that is a barrier to seed germination.  Additionally, there is evidence that as R. ponticum grows, it produces chemicals which inhibit the growth of other species.  This phenomenon is known as allelopathy.  Even when the Rhododendron is removed, it is difficult to reestablish the original flora.  Clearing an area of this plant is difficult and expensive. One effective method involves drilling the stems and injecting herbicide directly into the plant, a targeted approach that uses a lot less herbicide than spraying.  Mabberley’s Plant-book notes that the cost of eradicating the plant from Snowdonia was £30M and that was in 1988. Another Victorian introduction was the grey squirrel. Native to North America, grey squirrels were first released in the UK in the latter part of the 19th century.   One person associated with their spread was the 11th Duke of Bedford  (Herbrand Russell).   He was involved in various animal conservation projects, but he released and 'gifted' many grey squirrels from the estate at Woburn.  The populations of grey squirrels in Regent's Park, London are thought to have come from there. Humans may still be helping the spread of the grey squirrel, albeit unintentionally.  One squirrel was captured on the Isle of Skye (in 2010), it had traveled from Glasgow, as revealed by its genetic profile.  It had probably made the journey as stowaway under a car bonnet. It is important that we are aware of how 'easy' it is for these animals to travel with us.  Their introduction has been disastrous for the native red squirrel populations, due to competition and the spread of the squirrel pox virus.  It is vital that grey squirrels do not colonise areas where the red squirrel still survives. . More recent introductions have arrived due to increased global trade.  Parasites and pests can ‘hitch a ride’ with people, materials or goods as they move across the world.   Climate change is also altering the range and distribution of many plant and animal species.  There is an alert for the Asian or Yellow Legged hornet (Vespa velutina nigrithorax), an invasive, non-native species from Asia.  This hornet preys upon honeybees and other beneficial insects such as hover flies and bumblebees. It hovers outside bee hives, waiting to catch and then kill returning honeybees. The effect on bee colonies can be devastating. The Asian Hornet arrived in France in 2004 (through an import of Chinese pottery) and has spread rapidly. Now it is found in Italy, Spain, Portugal, Switzerland, Belgium and Germany.  Preventing its establishment in the UK is critical.  Any sighting needs to be reported, this can be done through the Asian Hornet Watch. This link downloads a PDF, which gives more information about the Asian Hornet, and contains images comparing the  appearance of the asian hornet, the european hornet, the wasp and honey bee. Other invasive species that are a cause for concern include : Himalayan Balsam Harlequin ladybirds, Signal Crayfish, Eight-toothed bark beetle Citrus long horned beetle Giant Hogweed Thanks to Anton for images.

Last year was not a good year for bumblebees, according to the Bumblebee Conservation Trust.  The trust has been collecting data on bumblebee numbers since 2008, through the BeeWalk.  The BeeWalk project began as as a small scale initiative at Weybourne, Norfolk.  This involved counting the bumblebees seen on a monthly walk along a set route from March to October.  The BeeWalk was opened up first to members of the BCT and then to the wider public - a citizen science project.   Today, it is the Trust’s longest running (and largest) project.  For each site in the BeeWalk scheme, the bumblebee species seen are recorded, and whether the bee is a queen, worker or male.  Also recorded is information about the site (habitat type, land use, temperature and other relevant information).  The fact that the BeeWalk has been running for some years and is now widespread (across England, Wales and Scotland) means that it is possible to monitor how bumblebee populations are changing and correlate with any changes in climate and land use. In March last year, bumblebee numbers were relatively OK, having emerged from winter dormancy into warm and sunny conditions. Queen bumblebees need stable weather to establish their colonies.  In April the weather turned wet and cold but numbers remained stable.  But in June, the weather was particularly ‘unseasonable’ and worker bees of many  species were noticeably absent from many counts.  The effect was especially true of those species that normally reach peak numbers in early summer.  White tailed and red tailed bees were down by 60% and 74% respectively. In contrast, the garden bumblebee (Bombus hortorum) showed a smaller decline of just 12%. In July and August, the weather improved as did numbers but across the country overall bumblebee numbers (for all species) were down by 22%.  The red tailed bumblebee has declined year on year since 2015, but last year was the worst.  On a more positive note, some of the rarer species (the shrill carder & brown banded carder) have shown year on year increase. The decline highlights the sensitivity of pollinators to changing weather patterns, and emphasises the need for conservation efforts through: Protecting natural environments Restoring wild flower meadows The use of sustainable land management practices eg avoidance of insecticides (such as the neonicotinoids) Improving habitat connectivity to support bumblebee  movement and survival