‘Twas the task before Christmas and all through the pond, nothing was stirring… except, maybe, a newt. As Norman Newt was sitting by his fireside making a list (and checking it twice) of who had been naughty and who had been nice. Most of his ‘nice’ list was taken up with BCV volunteers, the naughty list.. well, we just won’t mention.
So, who’s on the nice list? Tom and Caroline for everything they’ve done to keep the group wrapped in niceness through what has been a difficult year; Nathan for doing a bit of grant chasing; Claire for looking after the pennies, keeping a list and checking it thrice; Lynn for minute taking; Colin for doing some website thingy; James for a list of things on Instagram; the multitude keeping Facebook stuff with stuff like a stocking on Christmas morning; everyone we have worked with, a list too long to write out; and finally the long list of BCV volunteers new and not so new for working hard through the year making Bolton great again… or at least the green bits. You all deserve a mince pie and a pint of sherry, so a big Christmas CHEER to everyone.
Last year Norman released an album celebrating one of BCV’s most important pieces of equipment by singing some cover versions of his favourite songs, along with his backing group The Newt Seekers. The songs included Where is the Glove, Gloves Are All You Need, and I Would Do Anything For Gloves (But I won’t do hats). His new album is called Never Mind the Bill Hooks, and includes Where is the Glove?, Endless Glove, Can’t Buy Me Gloves, and One Glove. But Norman’s favourite songs are these:
BCV is Going on Task
You better dress warm, You better stay dry, Better wear hats, I’m telling you why: BCV is goin’ on task, BCV is goin’ on task, B-C-V is go-in’ on ta-sk.
Tom’s got us some work, We’re doing it twice, Out in the snow, The day will be nice. BCV is goin’ on task, BCV is goin’ on task, B-C-V is go-in’ on task.
He sees you when you’re working, He knows where there’s a task, He knows if you’ve done bad or good, So be good for goodness sake.
You better wear boots, You better dress dry, Better wear gloves, I’m telling you why: BCV is goin’ on task, BCV is goin’ on task, B-C-V is go-in’ on task.
Norman’s Christmas Jingle
Dashing through the snow, Trying to ‘walk this way’ O’er the fields we go, Skipping all the day.
Shiny bill hooks ring, Making pleaches right.. Oh! What fun it is to sing, A hedgerow song aw’right!
Jingle newts, jingle newts, Jingle all Sunday. Oh! what fun it is to lay, A hedge on New Year’s Day.
Oh Jingle newts, jingle newts, Jingle all the day. Oh! what fun it is to plant, A hedge the Bolton way.
Walking ‘cross the mud, Rain is in the sky. Looking for the pub, Six miles till we’re dry.
Wellies, hats and gloves, Keeping workers warm. Oh! What fun it is to sing, A task day song de-dum!
Oh Jingle newts, jingle newts, Jingle all the day. Oh! what fun it is to plant, A hedge the Bolton way.
The BCV Christmas Song
Rhodys burning on an open fire, Cold mud dripping from your nose, Tom & Caroline working without tire, And Franny dressed in Sunday clothes.
Everybody knows a bow saw and a bill hook so, Help to make the task day right. James with his cheeks all aglow, Won’t find it hard to sleep tonight.
Hedge laying season’s on its way; Tom has saws and loppers in his ‘sleigh’. And every volunteer will try, To see if wildlife they can spy.
And so we’re offering these outdoor days, To kids from eight to eighty-two, Although its been said many times, many ways, A very BCV Christmas to you.
Rhododendron removal 14th January – 3rd November 2024
There are an estimated 15,000 invasive species in the UK, 49 of those species are considered to be harmful to wildlife, and one of those species makes up one of out bread and butter tasks – Rhododendron ponticum. People ask ‘Why do you kill those plants, they’re nice, they have pretty flowers?’ Pretty flowers.. hmm… let’s see
The name Rhododendron translates as “Rose Tree”, ponticum refers to the plant’s home territory around the Black Sea (Latin name Ponticum Sinum). It is a member of the Ericaceae family, the same family as heather and bilberry, which explains why it likes acid soils.
Rhododendron was first introduced to Britain in 1763 from Gibraltar and was soon firmly installed in throughout the country in the ornamental gardens of stately homes. The fashion for this insidious threat continued up to the mid 1890s with R. ponticum becoming the favoured rootstock for grafting and cultivation. But a series of harsh Victoria winters wiped out many evergreen species, including some of the less hardy rhododendron. The remainders soon reverted back to their wild state, and as many country manors fell into disuse and management of stately grounds declined, the rhodys spread. Armed with an array of phytochemical weaponry and unimpeded by our native wildlife, Rhododendron ponticum soon began to dominate the countryside. BCV have seen the effects of this first hand at sites such as the Anderton Centre and Ravenden Clough, both sites were once the grounds of country estates, both sites were overrun with rhodys once left to their own devices.
2007 first Anderton resi.
What makes our enemy so deadly? To start with its roots, stems, leaves, flowers, pollen and nectar are loaded with grayanotoxins, a cocktail of phenols and diterpenes that have a range of toxic properties including anti-viral and anti-fungal properties. How R. ponticum employs these chemicals is still open to debate. One theory is that the grayanotoxins kill the mycorrhizal fungi the grows on the roots of any competing plants, preventing those plants absorbing essential nutrients such as phosphorus. Another theory is that the toxins kill soil fauna such as worms and microbes which consequently inhibits nutrient cycling and availability of nutrients to other species. The theories surrounding methods of dispersal for grayanotoxins are equally as diverse. Researchers argue that toxins enter the soil via roots; by leachate from decaying leaf litter; by runoff from the plants leaves and stems and also by air. There are other theories that claim the toxic soil effects of rhodys are overstated and the likely cause of their dominance is that they shade out other species and out-compete them for nutrients and pollinating insects.
The toxicity of rhodys is beyond question. In addition to their damaging effects on habitats no native insect can survive nibbling rhody leaves, sheep and horses can die from eating them, and even humans have been harmed. There are records, dating back to 400 BC, of honey made from rhododendron nectar adversely affecting people who eat it. Apparently it has both hallucinogenic and laxative effects on the sufferer, so it’s not something you want to spread on your toast in the morning. Surprisingly the bees are immune to rhody toxins.
What other survival strategies to rhodys use? Well, they can spread both vegetatively, such as rooting at points where branches touch the ground, and also by seed. It takes a rhody between 12 and 20 years to mature and produce flowers, each of those flowers can generate as many as 3000 seeds each, that means a good sized shrub can produce around 7,000,000 seeds per year. The seeds are distributed by wind and can travel up to 500 metres from the parent. Winter Hill near Belmont shows just how effective this method of propagation can be, with rhody seedlings scattered across the hillside many hundreds of metres from the nearest mature individuals.
And the bad news doesn’t stop there. Rhododendron also spread a deadly fungus, Phytothora ramorum or Sudden Oak Death. First identified in California the fungus appeared in the UK in 2003 and is arguably now the greatest threat to our woodlands and heathlands. Rhododendron is responsible for the extinction of 150 native British species in the last 100 years. As more habitat is destroyed by the encroachment of rhododendron the more species suffer- trees, mosses, ferns, insects, amphibians, mammals, birds, nothing is unaffected. Pretty flowers? No.
This task we joined up with the British Mountaineering Council on Winter Hill to do battle with our arch-enemy. We were last up here around 8 or 10 years ago but BMC have been keeping up the fight on their own for the last few yeas. It’s a big job as rhodys have spread extensively across the hillside, and unfortunately the fires that ravaged Winter Hill in 2018 missed this area otherwise our work would have been done.
As the Halloween task was a bit of a wash out and no photos were taken here’s something completely made up with a vague message about the repetitive nature of conservation work.
Before Moses Gate Country Park was a place of ponds and trees it was an industrial centre with dark satanic paper mills and choking dye and bleach factories. Before that it was part of a marsh land. In this marsh there was a gate, a doorway to a place of fire and fright; and like every door it had a key.
It was a chill autumn morning in the BCV wildlife garden, sunlight filtered through the golden leaves casting dappled shadows on the ground, the shadows gently shifting as the leaves moved in the a light breeze. But no birds sang, and the wildlife pond was still.
“Right,” said Tom to the assembled members of BCV, “Here we are at our wildlife garden, or own garden of Eden, hopefully. But it needs a bit of TLC. We’ll be doing a bit of hedge laying, cutting back the willow, tidying up the paths and pulling up weeds, cleaning up the pond. And whatever else we can find.” “Same as usual then?” quipped Francis. “Yes, same as usual, Francis.” From nearby there came a soft tinkling sound, like someone dropping a set of keys. “Tom?” said James, “Yes, James.” “Are those your keys?” Tom looked down, a strange key lay at his feet, the key was connected to a large iron ring from which also hung a large black crystal with words scratched into it. “Doesn’t look like mine, my keyring says ZZ Top on it not ‘Property of The Spawn of Hell’, good name for a band though.” Tom reached down, as soon as his hand closed around the key all hell broke loose.. literally.
A whirlpool made from flame and shadow opened at his feet and a ball of energy spread out from the key, turning everyone it touched into ash. The ash was then sucked down into the whirlpool which slammed closed leaving those lucky enough to be outside of it’s effects looking a bit surprised. “Well, that was different,” said Eve.
The world the BCV crew arrive in was very different from one they had left. The sky was a slowly rotating mass of smoke and flame, lights flashed high above and the sound thunder and the dragging of heavy chains could be heard as if from a distance. On the horizon a giant red sun pulsed and flickered as it was about to collapse in on itself.
Everyone’s names had changed they had undergone some form of transformation: bill hooks, saws and loppers for hands, the whirring blades of a wood chipper for teeth, others had eyes replaced by camera lenses. Tom had a chainsaw for a left arm and in his right he held a whip made from braided strimmer cord. Horns protruded from his skull and his skin was a landscape of glowing red cracks and patches of grey ash.
“What’s on going Tom?” asked Chipper Jim, spitting out bits of wood. “Tom? I’m no longer Tom, or Tom B, I AM TOMB AND THIS IS MY SAVAGE GARDEN. AND FROM NOW ON I WILLSPEAK O NLY IN CAPITALS!” he belched out a sheet of flame. “That’s impressive, Tom,” Said Craggy Craig, “Can you light my sparklers? I’ve brought some with me.” “MY NAME IS TOMB. AND NO I WILL NOT LIGHT YOUR SPARKLERS.” Tomb grabbed Craggy Craig’s sparklers and hid them were Craggy Craig couldn’t get them, “YOU CAN HAVE THEM BACK AT THE END OF ETERNIY.”
“NOW EVERYONE GET TO WORK, THE SPIKE THORN HEDGE NEEDS LAYING, THE WERE-WILLOW NEEDS COPICING, I WANT A LIVING DEAD HEDGE HERE, I WANT THE PATHS OF HELLISH GLORY CLEARED, AND I WANT IT ALL PHOTOGRAPHED AND RECORDED. NEO NATHAN WILL ENCOURAGE ANY SLACKERS WITH HIS PITCH BLACK FORK. HA HA HA. OH, AND STAY AWAY FROM THE SOUL POND.”
Under the prodding of Neo Nathan’s pitch black fork the work began.. and never ended. Every time a spike thorn hedge was laid it spring back to it’s original position; every were-willow that was felled would immediately grow back; every time the living dead hedge was completed it would crumble into dust; every path that was swept clear was re-buried under dust and ash. Every photo was blurred and faded within seconds.
And so it went on decade after decade until in the fiftieth year of their torment something new happened. The sky above began to spin faster, opening into a funnel. Black shards of lightning flashed across the sky and then a stream of white light plummeted down in the pond. The funnel closed.
Intrigued, Photo Face crept over to the pond, avoiding detection by TOMB and Neo Nathan. Beneath the surface lights swam in the shape of different creatures – birds, fish, insects, mammals. One of them rose to surface, a great crested newt. It looked at Photo Face and said: “We can help you escape if you help us.” “You can talk!!?” whispered Photo Face. “You’re working for all eternity in a hell dimension, you’ve got camera lenses for eyes, and your surprised by a talking newt?” “Ok, fair point. Want do you want?” “We’re the souls of all of the creatures made extinct by the forces of evil, this dimension feeds on them. You have all temporarily replaced the real inhabitants of this realm which gives us an opportunity to change things. The key hanging on at TOMB’s belt, throw it to us the next time the portal opens and we’ll do the rest.” “But GCN aren’t extinct.” “Look, just go with me on this. Get the key and we can all get back to our day jobs.”
More decades of torment followed. Photo Face hatched a plan and told the others what they needed to do when the time was right. And on one dismal day the portal began to open, the plan was put in motion. As one, everyone stopped working and began to chant. “Jaffa Cakes, Jaffa Cakes, Jaffa Cakes,” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” “We’ve been working for an eternity, we want a rest… and something to eat. Jaffa Cakes and tea would be nice.” Said Franky Bill Hook Hands “And I want my sparklers back,” added Craggy Craig. As the argument continued, Photo Face carefully unhooked the crystal key from TOMB’s belt and threw towards the pond. “INGRATES,” shouted TOMB, “NEO NATHAN, GIVE THEM SOME ENCOURAGEMENT… WAIT, WERE’S MY KEY… NOOOOOO!!!”
Thousands of paws, claws, wings, and pseudopodia reached out as the key hit the Soul Pond’s surface. There was a burst of energy and everyone was turned to ash, the portal reversed direction, ash and souls were pulled upwards like bats out of hell, and…..
It was a chill autumn morning in the BCV wildlife garden, sunlight filtered through the golden leaves casting dappled shadows on the ground, the shadows gently shifting as the leaves moved in the a light breeze. The sound of birds could be heard in the trees, and ripples made by aquatic life flicked across the pond’s surface.
“Right,” said Tom to the assembled members of BCV, “Here we are at our wildlife garden, or own garden of Eden. But it needs a bit of TLC. We’ll be doing a bit of hedge laying, cutting back the willow, tidying up the paths and pulling up weeds, cleaning up the pond. And whatever else we can find.” “Same as usual then?” quipped Francis. “Yes, same as usual, Francis.” From nearby there came a soft tinkling sound, like someone dropping a set of keys. “Tom?” said James, “Yes, James.” “Are those your keys?” Tom looked down, a strange key lay at his feet, the key was connected to a large iron ring from which also hung a large black crystal with words scratched into it. “Doesn’t look like mine, my keyring says ZZ Top on it not ‘Property of The Spawn of Hell’, they look familiar though.” Tom reached down, but a grubby hand beat him to it, “These are mine. And I’ll thank you to stay out of my realm!” said the owner of a scruffy beard. “You come to my world in your fancy T-shirts, touching my stuff; conservation my backside.” Scruffy shook the crystal, a portal opened beneath and he vanished into it. “The supernatural’s on form today,” said Jane. There was a long pause. “Anyway, back to work, remember we’re doing this for wildlife.” said Tom, “Jaffa Cakes at dinner time.” “Anyone seen my sparklers?” asked Craig. No body had.
A few years ago Tom planted some apple trees for the Canal Society. Our first task there was on Easter Sunday in 2022, in an area not far from the place where James Mason ran down the cobbles in Spring and Port Wine. Although I’m sure our own James would have preferred cider with Rosie, it was all a taste of honey and we looked forward to returning at a later date.
In the 2 years of Saturday nights and Sunday mornings the site had become over grown with willow herb, balsam, bramble, and the odd sprig of bracken, and so need a good clearing out. So, armed with loppers, bow saws and no fear what so ever we started the task.
Cutting through the brambles would have been easier with something a bit bigger than loppers, but within a couple of hours we had started to clear the site. As well as the vegetation we also removed hawthorn and pushed the tree line back a few metres to reduce shading and competition. Everything that was cut down was used to create a linear habitat pile, or dead hedge.
Apple trees provide habitat for invertebrates, pollen and nectar for pollinators, and fruit that can be eaten by a variety species from birds to foxes; as far as wildlife goes apple trees are the room at the top.
According to Natural England wildflower meadows and species-rich grasslands, , like many of our natural habitats, have declined dramatically over the last century. Only 2% of meadows that existed in the 1930s are still in existence today; around 7.5 million acres of wildflower meadow have been lost, and 75% of what remains is fragmented and vulnerable. Since the 1940s 97% of lowland meadows alone have been lost. Only 1% of the UK’s land area can now support species-rich grassland; only 2% of the grassland we have are species-rich.
Meadows provide habitat for wildflowers, fungi, bees, flies, beetles, spiders, moths, butterflies, reptiles, amphibians, small mammals, bats and birds; they are also important for carbon storage, water retention to prevent flooding, and habitat for crop pollinators. In addition they also have cultural, historical and archaeological significance.
Over the last few years BCV have been working at a number of sites to try to improve the quality of some of the meadows around Bolton: Ousels Nest Quarry, Chew Moor Meadow, and Moses Gate Country Park are three. Today’s task was at Moses Gate Country Park, Bolton. The work we have done here over the last 2 years is already showing an improvement with a reduction in the growth of brambles, docks and thistles.
The process begins with a reciprocating mower cutting down the vegetation. The cuttings are then raked up and transported to the edge of the site. This process of cutting and removing vegetation helps to reduce the nutrient levels in the soil, low nutrient soils are preferred by wildflowers. During the work we found many frogs and toads, and even a newt, which we moved to a safer area before continuing. We also found a vapourer moth caterpillar, something we hadn’t seen before.
It will probably take a few years but eventually we will start to see wildflowers appearing at this site. It won’t replace the millions of acres that have been lost across the UK but will help to support local wildlife and make this part of the World a little bit brighter.
The Anderton Centre was built in 1990 on the site of Anderton New Hall. Anderton New Hall was built in the 1870s to replace Lady Hall which itself was demolished when Lower Rivington Reservoir was constructed in the 1850s, Anderton New hall survived until the 1930 when the derelict building was demolished. Lady Hall, which may have been built in the 1600s was located near what is now the A673 at the bottom end of Lower Rivington Reservoir. The Lady Hall was built to replace Anderton Old Hall which was present on a site near Old Hall Farm not far from Crown Lane, Horwich. The Old Hall dated back to around 1281 and may have been demolished around the time of the Civil War. The areas around the Anderton Centre are largely man made: farms, reservoirs, tree plantations, fields and ponds, but they have become home to wide range of wild species from crows to cormorants, from rabbits to roe deer. And that’s the local history bit done.
BCV’s involvement at the Anderton Centre began in January 2007, at the time the site was dominated by rhododendron. It took us 4 years to clear the terraced grounds which are now used for outdoor activities such as archery and climbing. This year’s residential is the first summer resi without Rick Parker’s leadership, the resi this year was organised by BCVs new leader, Caroline Bruce, and task organiser Tom Bruce.
Our weekend was spent mostly repairing dry stone walls and balsam bashing. In the years after we removed the rhododendron from the site balsam moved in. Getting rid of this invasive took a few years but eventually the grounds were balsam free. However, a few seasons without a summer resi followed by covid allowed the balsam to return with a vengeance, and it was this balsam resurgence that we had to deal with this weekend. The balsam was densely packed with some stems being several centimetres in diameter. Hand pulling and whacking with a weed whacker took care of most of it but some patches couldn’t be reached because they grew in boggy areas or in the middle of brash piles. Japanese knot weed is also present on the site, this needed specialist treatment by our fully trained herbicide operative. To find out more about balsam follow this link to our beginners guide to balsam bashing.
The other half of the task was repairing dry stone walls along the edge of the reservoir. The walls are continually being damaged by livestock and trespassers and need to be repaired by our expert wallers.
As with any resi food and drink played a big part of the weekend with a visit to the pub after Saturday’s work was done, followed by Lynn and Trish’s evening meal, followed by a visit to the fire pit and, even later, various fun and games.
Thanks to the Anderton Centre management and staff for having us back; Tom, and Caroline for organising; Lynn and Trish for cooking; finally thanks to all who turned out to help out.
