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.
Chew Moor, Lostock and Jumbles Country Park- Hedge Work
‘Twas the last tasks before Christmas, and across the woods, A chainsaw was growling, but doing some good, The hedges need laying to make them look neat, In hopes that when done it would all look awreet. The pleaches were cut, they didn’t look bad, In months to come it would make wildlife glad. The brash we collected and placed in a pile, But some of our workers at it did not smile. So, we re-made a dead hedge all neat and ti-dy, And soon all were happy and feeling joll-y. No snow had fallen to blanket the ground, Yet cold as it was but we didn’t slow down, In hats like old Santa’s, and Grinch headgear, too, We worked the day long, we worked the day through. At lunch time we rested, with hot tea and food, Exchanges of cards, put us in Christmas mood. Then back to the work for the BCV crew, Till the sun dropped down low and temperatures too. The task day now over, the work was all done, Away tools were packed, we were ready to run. But one last stop before a Christmas blest, The Crofters pub, for a drink and a rest. Then home we did go, to warmth and dry feet, It would again be a while before we next meet. And so ends the year along with this verse, It wasn’t too bad and it could have been worse. Merry Christmas to all, we hope you had fun, And from January onwards we’ll look forward to the sun.
This task is dedicated to our friend and fellow volunteer, Evelyn Egan, who sadly passed away on 25th October 2023 from vascular dementia. She will be greatly missed by everyone who knew her. Our condolences and best wishes go to Evelyn’s family now and always.
Darcy Lever Marshes is a new site for Bolton Conservation volunteers. The site is hidden between housing estates near Hollycroft Avenue, playing fields and Radcliffe road and if one of Bolton’s secret wildlife havens.
The marshes provide habitat for great crested newt and other amphibians, and potentially could benefit dragonflies. About 20 years ago Dave Orchard and the Amphibian and Reptile Group for South Lancashire developed the site but willow trees are now starting to take over and threatening the site’s usefulness, a process know as succession (to find out more about succession see this earlier post).
To help restore Darcy Lever Marshes BCV and Dave Orchard are removing willow trees. As this is privately owned land we had permission to burn all of the material we cut down, on this particular site this method of disposal was preferable to making habitat piles.
Many thanks to the site’s owner for allowing us to work on this site, our volunteers for working so hard, and to Dave Orchard for his expertise. Also thanks to Rick, Jeff, Mark and Jayne for bringing food.
The following is an account of a long lost task, the location will remain a secret to protect the curious from meeting their fate before their time, as too the names and personalities of those involved these have been changed to protect their dignity.
The day was grey and damp, the dark clouds were broken only by the pale disk of a false sun that cast no light and no warmth. It was a forgotten woodland and its trees’ branches reached upwards like skeletal fingers grasping as if for Heaven’s forgiveness. Along the wood’s only track came a group of figures, 13 in total, walking slowly and followed by a Land Rover pulling a trailer full of tools and implements needed on the day’s task: bow saws, chain saw, axes, loppers, a long-handled pruning saw, and a winch. Upon reaching a clearing the group stopped.
From out of the distance could be heard the faint rumble of a coming storm.
“Right,” said Rock, “Before we get on just a few words. As you know a number of conservation groups have vanished over the last few years, many of them we’d worked with in the past. No one knows what happened to them, volunteers just vanished leaving nothing but their tools and brew kits. So, in remembrance of these missing groups we’ll have a minute’s silence.”
One by one the assembled group doffed their hats and folded their hands: Rock, Tim, Cecilia, Kenny, June, Joan, Pete, Phil, Carlton, Catriona, Adrian, Em, and Kath. A long minute passed, the only sounds being that of branches creaking in the chill, damp air.
“Right,” said Tim, impatient to get the work done, “Let’s get started, forecast is for bad weather so we want to be in the pub before it arrives. We’ll be crown lifting and doing a bit of felling, the trees have been marked so they’re easy to find. Also, it looks like someone has dug a new pond in an open area a couple of hundred yards or so that way,” he pointed randomly, “There’s no water in it but be careful not to fall in, it’s a bit deep for some reason. Another also, don’t get too close to the chain saw, we don’t want any accidents.”
The volunteers picked out their tool of choice from the back of the trailer and separated out in to the woods to begin work. Over the next couple of hours could be heard the intermittent thrum of Tim’s chain saw, the creak and thud of branches as they were cut down, and the odd shout or expletive when untoward things happened.
Adrian, June and Joan stayed near the Land Rover cutting up branches and making a dead hedge. “Joan?” said June, “I’m going to wander off and find a quiet place.” “You mean a natural convenience?” said Joan “Yes, one of those.” “Be careful out there,” quipped Adrian in a spooky voice, “These woods have a bit of a reputation for being haunted, odd things happen here,” he then laughed ghoulishly. “Thanks for that, you’ve not made made me worried at all now,” said June, “Joan will you come with me?” A couple of dead leaves fell from the near bare branches above, Joan brushed them from her short brown hair. “I suppose so. Adrian, don’t mess up the dead hedge.” The two walked off into the wood leaving Adrian on his own. With nothing better to do he poured himself some herbal tea and sat down under a tree. “Mess up the dead hedge. As if.”
Time passed and Adrian sat warming his hands on his tea filled cup. The woods had become quite except for the creaking of tree branches and the whispering of dead leaves. It was a bit too quite, something felt wrong but Adrian couldn’t figure out what. From nearby he heard something shuffling, something sneaking towards him stealthily. From behind the Land Rover came Kenny.
“Adrian,” said Kenny. “Have you seen Rock and Tim I’ve trying to find them to get a few photos?” “No, no idea. June and Joan wandered off a few minutes.. er, half an hour ago maybe they’ve seen them,” replied Adrian. “It’s really weird, I can’t seem to find any one except Phil and Em near that pond Tim mentioned, that was a while ago. They were having a cup of tea, so nothing worth photographing.” There was a faint whirring of the chain saw coming from deeper in the mirky woods. “Maybe that’s Tim. I’m going to wander about a bit more maybe I’ll run in to him. Can you stay here in case anyone comes back?” With that Kenny disappeared into the woods. “Yes, sure,” Adrian said wearily to the empty air and sipped more tea, by now gone cold; he threw it away and poured some more.
There was a low growl of thunder, the storm was inexorably getting closer. More time passed and no one else came back. It’s passed dinner time, where is everyone? thought Adrian. Maybe it would be a good idea to get up and go in search of the rest of the group. Instead, feeling a bit drowsy he leaned back in the hollow of a gently creaking tree and fell asleep. As he slept, he dreamt. In the dream he could hear someone humming Riders On The Storm close by, then came a deep throaty growl, a sudden thud, and a dark shadow passed by; the humming stopped.
When Adrian woke there was something different. It took him a moment to realise that the Land Rover and trailer had gone. Had everyone gone home and left him behind? No, they wouldn’t do that would they.. would they? It was getting darker, rain was starting to fall and storm clouds were closing in. He had to try to find someone but where were they? The Land Rover had left ruts in the muddy ground, the tracks led deeper into the woods; Adrian decided to follow them.
Some time later Adrian came to a strange sight. The Land Rover was parked near a mound of earth and the trailer had been tipped up so that it was standing vertically with it’s tailgate flat against the ground and the towing hitch pointing skywards. From where he stood he could only see the trailer’s underside, two logs had been braced against its axle to keep it upright. The group’s winch was attached to a nearby tree. It looked as if the winch had been used to pull the trailer vertical. Why someone would do this was totally beyond Adrian’s comprehension.
From behind the trailer walked Emily Blandman, humming Thunderstruck and wiping the blade of her axe. “Em, thank God, where have you been? Have you seen the others? There’s something really weird going on.” “Adrian,” said Em with a mix of surprise and embarrassment. She glanced at the bed of the trailer, “er.. I’ve been busy doing a bit of snedding and my axe got stuck and I cut myself. Nothing to worry about.” By this point Adrian had seen something behind the mound of earth that froze him in horror. “Ahh..,” said Em, “You weren’t really supposed to see that yet. I thought the herbal tea would keep you asleep for a bit longer, I drugged it when you were talking to Kenny. It was touch and go when I drove the Landy past you though, so I shouldn’t be surprised that you woke up. You know, I dug that pit earlier in the week, but I still don’t think it’s deep enough.” Adrian stood staring at the ghastly sight before him. The purpose of the mystery pond was now apparent. It had been filled with the dismembered remains of the other volunteers. “You killed them, OMG you’ve even killed Kenny.. you… Blandman?” “Yes, he was taking photos of my work so I had no choice. He was annoying anyway.” Beneath Kenny Adrian could see other bodies and body parts, all dismembered. “Is everyone in there?” gasped Adrian, “Why?” “Well.. yes, or at least most of what’s left of everyone. I drugged them all first, I was very humane. No one suffered.. except maybe Kenny.” Adrian stared at the pit, his arms hanging limp, “I though you were a vegetarian?” Emily sighed and said, “I’m chopping them up not eating them. I have some principles. Come with me, I’ll explain on the way.” She pointed towards the trailer with her axe, “We’ll need to hurry though, the storm’s nearly here,”
As they walked towards the trailer Blandman spoke, “I’m not who you think I am. For a start my name isn’t Emily Blandman. For many years I worked for Megachem, I was their chief scientist. They developed all kinds of nasty things which I won’t bore you with. I disagreed with the path they were taking, I wanted to use our discoveries to benefit the environment and bring wildlife back from the brink of extinction. During my researches I came across the work of a man named West who was based at the Miskatonic University the 1900s. He developed what I decided to call the Elixir, the less enlightened called it the Demon Seed, and it can… well it would be easier to just show you.” The two of them walked around to the front of the trailer and for the second time that day Adrian froze in horror.
“When it was discovered what I was doing I was fired and thrown out of the building, shareholders weren’t happy apparently, but I managed to sneak out the a vial of Elixir and I have been working independently ever since.” They had reached the upended trailer; Adrian fell to his knees. “You see, with the Elixir I can rebuild flesh in whatever way suits my purpose. My real name, by the way, is Fran K. Enstine.”
The creature stood strapped to the bed of the trailer, a patchwork of limbs and skin. “This is NGOR-MAN, Next Generation Organic Restoration Manager, pronounced Norman, and he is the future of conservation. A super hero for re-wilding.” Enstine dropped her axe and took hold of the long-handled pruning saw that was leaning against the trailer and used it to point out the creatures attributes:
“Large feet for stability and thick legs for balance, good for uneven terrain; agile hands and strong arms, good for planting wild flowers or cutting down trees. The arms are also multi-jointed and are extensible, they unfold in order to reach higher branches, or for putting up bird boxes; he has teeth, jaws and a digestive system that can eat any invasive species; his skin is double layered to deflect thorns, excellent for hedge laying. His head is a bit misshapen but it does hold several brains containing all of BCV’s conservation knowledge.”
From her pocket she removed the almost empty bottle of Elixir, “See this, my greatest achievement. This liquid not only helps to stitch flesh back together but can also reanimate it,” there was a peal of thunder, “With the help of a few hundred thousand volts.” More thunder crackled above and rain started to fall more heavily, the storm clouds were almost directly overhead. “Nearly time.”
Enstine continued, “I’ve always enjoyed working with BCV; it was always greater than the sum of its parts, now literally so. I tried this a few times before but something always went wrong.” “The missing groups,” gasped Adrian. “Yes, them. All that work for nothing.” “Anyway, there’s just one thing left.. successful environmentalists all tend to have ponytails, which is why I saved you until last. I’d use mine but it’s the wrong colour. Nothing personal. “ “Your mad! Your not human!” screamed Adrian. “Humanity has a lot to answer for, so I’ll take that as a compliment.” Enstine removed Adrian’s head with a single stroke of the pruning saw. She then scalped her victim with her axe and attached the grisly piece of skin to the creatures head. She used the last few drops of Elixir along the line where flesh met flesh and the ragged edge of scalp immediately fused to the creature’s grey skin. Tugging NGOR-MAN’s hair once she whispered, “Happy birthday,” and threw the empty vial into the pit.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the clouds, and harsh thunder echoed across the sky. As the wind and rain whipped through woods, Enstine extended the pruning saw’s handle to maximum length and attached it to the trailers towing hitch, a lightning rod. All was ready.
It was only a matter of minutes until it came, a devastating bolt of energy screamed from the sky with the voice of a god, striking the pruning saw and turning it to a spray of molten metal, travelling trough the trailer, bursting its tyres and filling the air with the stench of burning rubber. The energy passed into the creature’s body making it shake and convulsed, arching forwards and falling back several times before slumping against the trailer’s upright bed. Steam drifting from its flesh, the straps that had held it in place crumbling to dust.
As the thunder echoed in to silence, Fran Kelly Enstine stood expectantly, her eyes riveted on the creature, looking for signs of success. Slowly movement came, a twitch of a finger, the flutter of an eyelid. The creature took its first ragged, tortured breath and opened its pale eyes.
“It’s alive, IT LIVES!!!” cried Enstine, “Speak NGOR-MAN, share your knowledge with the world! Let us do great things together.” The creature stood upright, breathed deep, and with voice that seemed to emanate from the depths of the Earth roared, “JAFFA CAKE!”
Enstine’s shoulders slumped, she dropped to her knees, put her head in her hands and groaned, “Oh no, not this again.”
NGOR-MAN grinned.
Disclaimer: This is a work of slightly over long fiction and any similarity between this and events and entities in the real world (as if) is either an amazing co-incidence or the product of a very warped mind.
See the photos below to find out what actually happened on the Halloween task at Eatock Lodge on 22nd October 2023.
Meadow and Hedge Management, Chew Moor, Lostock – September 10th 2023
Autumn Crocus
Bolton’s history didn’t start and end with the Industrial Revolution, the meadow at Chew Moor is a good example of the area’s forgotten history.
In the 1990’s the meadow next to St. John’s Wood, Lostock, was to be turned into a car park until it was designated as a Site of Biological Importance because of the presence of autumn crocus. Autumn crocus (Crocus nudiflorus smith) is native to the Middle-East so how did it end up in Lostock? The answer goes back to around 1100 AD when the land was owned by the Order of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem, better known as the Knights Hospitallers. A stretch of road in Chew Moor village is even called St. John’s Road. This religious order also owned land that included what is now the Smithills Estate and did so up until 1200 AD, at this time, being a Catholic religious order, they were suppressed by Henry VIII and their lands confiscated during the Dissolution of the Monasteries.
The Hospitallers shouldn’t be confused with the Knights Templar who were more dedicated to martial skills and protecting the lands and wealth of the Catholic Church; the purpose of the Hospitallers was to aid pilgrims in the Holy Land, tend to the sick, and protect Christians under their care. The Hospitallers set up hospitals and hospices across Europe and to each they brought crocuses, the saffron they produced being used as a food additive and high quality dye and pigment; according to research by the late Fred Lovell clothing dyed with saffron was thought to provide protection against plague, the dye deterred fleas and their bites, something that would have been useful while tending the infected. But saffron was also a very lucrative cash crop that was, and still is, literally worth more than it’s weight in gold. In the Middle-Ages it was such an important commodity that saffron fraudsters would be burnt at the stake for their crimes, and in Germany they were buried alive.
The Hospitallers are still in existence and are responsible for establishing the St. John’s Ambulance Foundation which still carries the Cross of St. John as their emblem. Although the Hospitaller’s lodge at Lostock has long since vanished the crocus they introduced is still present and it is for this that the meadow is important. In the past BCV has helped the Chew Moor Conservation Group look after the site, more recently they were sponsored by Barton Grange Garden Centre. They have planted other species such as ragged robin to supplement existing species such as ladies smock and the late Fred’s famous yellow rattle.
Now that the Chew Moor group is unable to continue the work BCV has taken over the management of the site entirely. At the end of August the meadow was mown by farmer Stan and the cuttings removed to reduce the build up of nutrient, this will benefit wild flowers as they prefer nutrient poor soils. We also trimmed the hedge, this will help nesting birds. Our goal is to maintain the species richness that there is and build on it, to make this meadow the best wild flower meadow it can be and protect it for the future, continuing our crusade for wildlife.
Another job we did today was to cut back a few trees and re-install a fence post.
autumn crocus
The crocus bloom around the end of September and at the time of writing were in evidence all across the meadow, although some have been stepped on or had been damaged by rain and wind. The fact that so many were in bloom last year is testament to the mowing regime, care and effort that has gone into our management of this site. So, if you visit be careful where you put your feet, you are walking through once and future history.
Friday 11th to Sunday 13th August 2023 – Habitat Management
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 may have been built in the 1600s and was located near what is now the A673 at the bottom end of Lower Rivington Reservoir. The New 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, manorial estates, tree plantations, fields and ponds, but they have become home to wide range of species from crows to cormorants, from rabbits to roe deer. Regardless of how common or rare each species is it has a place in the world and even the most everyday or mundane maintenance helps them to keep it.
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. This year’s residential is the first summer resi since 2015. Our weekend was spent mostly repairing dry stone walls and trimming hedges, with a little bit of planting thrown in. Walls and hedges not only create boundaries but also benefit wildlife: dry stone walls create hiding places and refuges for small mammals and amphibians; hedges provide wildlife corridors, nesting habitat and sources of food.
Thanks to the Anderton Centre management and staff for having us back; Rick, Tom, and Caroline for organising; Lynn and Trish for cooking; finally thanks to all who turned out to help out.
