Sweet Chestnut

06 Friday Dec 2019

Posted by theresagreen in Nature of Public Places, Nature of Wales, Social History of Trees, Trees, Trees of the British Isles

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Tags

Ancient Trees, castanea sativa, sweet chestnut, trees of Parks and Gardens, wild food

Sweet Chestnut trees have become one of my favourite species over the last twenty years or so and I’m always drawn to look at them and of course to take their photographs. Until coming to live in North Wales I’d seen them only on walks around big Public Parks, Grand Gardens and in Arboretums, situations in which I might expect to find them, but here I’ve encountered them fairly frequently growing in wilder woodlands. There are three growing at different points along one of my regular trails around Bryn Euryn that stand out amongst the surrounding Oaks, Ash and Sycamores, and others in other woodlands and public gardens locally, some of which have been quite unexpected.

Researching this post I found that the ancient Sweet Chestnut at Bodnant Gardens was a nominee in the Woodland Trust’s annual Tree of the Year competition and that the winning tree in Wales for 2019 is the Old Sweet Chestnut of Pontypool, which confirmed that this was the perfect time to be putting the post together.

Sweet Chestnut in Bradgate Park, Leicestershire – September

The Sweet Chestnut, or Castana sativa is native to mainly mountainous regions of southern Europe, western Asia and north Africa and is considered most likely to have been introduced into Britain by the Romans. But these beautiful trees have graced our islands for many centuries and are considered honorary natives as they behave similarly to native trees; they propagate themselves by seed and are able to maintain levels of wildlife biodiversity similar to that of native broadleaved trees such as the related oaks and beeches.

Sweet Chestnut – Colwyn Bay, Conwy – early November

Etymology

English name(s): Sweet Chestnut, Spanish Chestnut Latin Name: Castana sativa Welsh name: Castanwydden Felys Family: Fagacaea

As the Sweet Chestnut is not a true native to Great Britain, there is very little mythology associated with it here, but the ancient Greeks dedicated the sweet chestnut to Zeus and its scientific botanical name Castanea comes from Castonis, a Town in Thessaly in Greece where the tree was grown for its nuts.

The Latin sativus is based on satus, meaning ‘sown’, perhaps implying the tree has been cultivated by humans. Also etymologically related is our native English ‘seed’.

The tree is commonly called the “Sweet Chestnut” to distinguish it from the Horse Chestnut Aesculus hippocastanum, to which it is only distantly related. Other common names include “Spanish Chestnut”, “Portuguese Chestnut” and “marron” (French for “chestnut”).

Sweet Chestnut-Kew Gardens- April

DESCRIPTION

Sweet Chestnuts have mostly straight trunks, easily recognised by their twisted rugged appearance and thick branches that start at a low height. Trees may reach heights of anything from 60 to 80 feet (20 to 30m) high and sometimes even higher; specimens of up to 110 feet (38m) have been recorded and they may live to an age of 500 to 600 years; cultivated individuals may even achieve a lifespan of 1000 years or more. Some trees grow straight and attain great heights, particularly those in woodlands that have competition from other species, many others develop exceptionally broad trunks in relation to a lesser height and there are records from various parts of the country of trees with girths of over 25 feet (6m+).

BARK

A particularly distinctive characteristic is the tree’s beautifully textured bark, which develops deep evenly spaced fissures that spiral upwards from the base of the trunk. The fissures develop early on in the life of the tree and continue to thicken and widen as the tree ages. It is interesting that the fissures may spiral in either a left- or right-handed direction, and sometimes even both, with the fissures then creating a net-like pattern. The bark of the trees in my photographs below, both spiral to the right, that of the tree above, growing in Kew Gardens is spiralling to the left. (Being hugged by one of my granddaughters, aged two at the time.)

Bark of a Sweet Chestnut tree

Bark of an old Sweet Chestnut tree

LEAVES

The leaves usually open out some time in April, they are large, sometimes as much as 10″ (25cm), mid to dark green in colour and slightly glossy. Sometimes aptly described as handsome, they are a simple lance-shape, are deeply indented and have large pronounced teeth evenly spaced around their margins.

I like the way the sun shines through them on bright summer days.

Sun through leaves-Bryn Euryn-August

FLOWERS

The Sweet Chestnut tree is monoecious, meaning that although it requires both male and female females in order to reproduce, both are borne on the same tree. In Britain it is one of the last trees to bloom, with flowers usually appearing from mid to late July or sometimes even well into August. When they do appear the groups of flowers are very noticeable, held on drooping stems that are some 6-8 inches (16-20cm) long.

sweet Chestnut flowers

The long, creamy pale yellow catkins arise from the axils of the leaves: those growing from the lower axils bear only male flowers. Those growing from the upper leaf axils bear both male and female flowers – the males at the distal (far) ends of the axils and the female ones nearest the axils. Individual flowers are simple; the male flower has about 10 stamens that are surrounded by 5-6 sepals. Female flowers are borne in groups of 2-3, with each group surrounded by a scale capule. Each flower has a single ovary surrounded with several styles. Pollination may be either by insects or by wind.

FRUITS

Following fertilisation each ovary develops to form a nut. The capule also enlarges to form a thick strong green and very spiny covering that encloses the two or three developing nuts.

Nuts collected in a hollow at the base of a tree-Ashton Court, Bristol- October

When they are ripe, the prickly capule splits and the brown edible nuts are exposed.

121021-BSAsCt -sweet chestnut seed case entire

121021-BSAsCt -sweet chestnut seed case open 1

VALUE TO WILDLIFE

The flowers provide an important source of nectar and pollen for bees and other insects. Red squirrels eat the nuts and I’m sure Grey ones must do too. There are a number of micro-moths recorded that feed on the leaves and nuts.

SWEET CHESTNUTS AS FOOD

The trees were originally brought into Britain by the Romans with the intention of providing one of the fundamental staple foods of their armies’ traditional diet. (This was clearly a long-term plan; it can take 20 years for a tree to mature and bear fruit.) The nuts are high in carbohydrates, so high in calories. They would have been dried and ground into a versatile flour used to make polenta, porridge, bread and even pasta. In Italy today huge forests of Sweet Chestnut trees cover something like 400,000 acres of the country’s land, which are still grown and harvested for their fruits and continue to be widely used as a staple food in the same traditional ways and also as it is naturally sweet, to make biscuits and cakes.

As the flowers bloom so late there is not much time left in a typical British summer for the fruit to develop before conditions make it impossible. This is why Sweet Chestnuts that grow much further north than the Midlands seldom bear fruit. Here in Wales many of our trees do bear fruits, but the nuts are usually small compared to those that we import from mainland Europe, mainly the South of France and Italy. Our British nuts are equally edible, and it said that what our home-grown nuts lack in size they make up for in sweetness and flavour.

Chestnuts on the ground beneath a tree in Kew Gardens-early April.

I wonder why they are not foraged as frequently now as they used to be? Some nuts may be taken and distributed by animals such as squirrels, but often they are simply left on the ground where they fell. Chestnuts roasted on an open fire have been a winter delicacy in Britain for generations. Chestnut stuffing was a traditional part of the Christmas Turkey dinners, particularly in areas where the trees grow most prolifically and nuts were gathered as a welcome seasonal food item. They were also one of the original ‘street foods’. roasted on braziers and served up by vendors piping hot in paper cones. This tradition has largely faded out here, probably something to do with ‘health and safety, but it continues to thrive in other European countries, particularly Italy, Spain and Portugal, where many festivals are held during October and November to celebrate the year’s harvest.

TIMBER AND COMMERCIAL USES

Sweet Chestnut wood is a light brown in colour and very durable. It is similar in appearance to oak and is sometimes used as a substitute for it. Sweet Chestnut and Oak may easily be confused in the identification of old timber.

Felled Sweet Chestnut tree regenerating-Pwllycrochan Woods-Colwyn bay

The main Chestnut area in Great Britain is concentrated in England, especially in the southern counties of Kent and Sussex, where extensive stands of commercial coppice, amounting to some 18,000 hectares were planted in the mid 19th century. Here Sweet chestnut trees continue to be grown commercially for the timber and to a lesser extent, the nut markets. Chestnut coppicing for the timber industry has been enjoying a revival in recent years and although these industries are small they are locally important, particularly in Kent. A well-maintained coppice can produce a good crop of tannin-rich wood every 12 to 30 years, depending on intended use and local growth rate.

The high tannin content of the wood makes the young growing wood durable and resistant to the elements, so is widely used outdoors as posts, piles, poles and Chestnut fence palings.

Chestnut fencing used here to help stabilise sand dunes

In other parts of mainland Europe the wood is used to make furniture, barrels (sometimes used to age balsamic vinegar), and roof beams notably in southern Europe (for example in houses of the Alpujarra, Spain, in southern France and elsewhere) (Wikipaedia)

ANCIENT TREES – in ENGLAND

Sweet Chestnut trees are capable of living to a great age and there are some wonderfully huge and significant ancient specimens in England and Wales. Credited with being the oldest of them all is the village of Longhope in Gloucestershire. This county can also lay claim to the biggest of all, the famous Tortworth Chestnut. An immense mass of wood formed of contorted trunk and convoluted branches, the tree is very much alive. Side branches have collapsed over time, but where they have made contact with the ground, all have taken root and continuously send up new shoots. The original tree has become a small woodland in itself, extending more than 30 yards (28m) across that has Bluebells, Ramsons and Dog Mercury growing within it. The original tree is impossible to date, but a plaque installed on a fence states ” This tree is supposed to be six hundred years old – 1st January 1800. May Man still guard thy Venerable form From the Rude Blasts and Tempestuous Storm. Still mayest though Flourish through Succeeding time, And last, long Last, the Wonder of the Clime.”

ANCIENT TREES in WALES

Tree of the Year 2019: Old Sweet Chestnut of Pontypool

“This amazing sweet chestnut tree in Pontypool Park is around 400 years old. There are many other sweet chestnut trees in the park but from an ecological perspective, this one is the most interesting as it is hollow and you can walk inside it.
Over the centuries, many children would have centred their games around the tree, particularly for ‘hide and seek’ – even when everyone knew where they were!
These veteran trees – and especially this one – are a visible reminder of our heritage. The park was owned by the Hanbury family until it was given to the people of Pontypool in the early part of the 20th century.” (Woodland Trust)

The Three Sisters, Llanrhaeadr, Denbigh, Clwyd

In North Wales, beside the Ruthin to Denbigh road, there once grew three enormous Sweet Chestnut trees that had sufficient significance to be marked on OS maps. These ancient trees, known locally as The Three Sisters were planted in the garden by three sisters, the three daughters of Sir William Salusbury. One of the trees died, the remains of one was left for many years as a pile of dead wood, and one is clinging on to life, holding its own. This surviving Sister still inhabits the garden of the house now named after these trees (formerly the park of Bachymbyd). The girth of the tree was reported in 1781 by Pennant, and from that measurement it is estimated that it is now around 500 years old. It has a short bole and is hollow and open on one side. It was taped at its narrowest point between the burrs for the Ancient Tree Hunt in 2007. The girth of the tree, measured at a height of 90 cm, is about 42 feet (12.70 m): (2007, Ancient Tree Hunt (Rob McBride)). Its height is not known.

Bodnant Garden, Conwy Valley, Clwyd

As previously mentioned, the grand old Sweet Chestnut that graces the Top Lawn of Bodnant Garden was also a contender for the Wales Tree of the Year 2019 competition. One of the oldest at Bodnant Garden, this tree is a remnant of its early, Georgian past.
John Forbes built the original hall in 1782 and created a parkland around it in the Landscape style of the day, planting native trees.

Ancient Sweet Chestnut-Bodnant Garden-mid October

It has a gnarled, many-legged trunk since the main stem was blown out at some point in the past by a lightening strike causing the trunk to split. Over time several of the larger branches have layered themselves upon the lawn, giving the tree ‘legs’ and it is known as a walking tree.

“Having lost her top many decades ago, she started to ‘walk’ northwards. Beaten back by strong winds and chainsaws, she is now intent on a south-westerly route. A truly ‘walking tree’, she appears almost Elephantine without foliage, placing her trunk where she wants to go next. She has already layered daughters which are layering their own offspring and, given chance, they will layer theirs.” (gardener Dave Larter)

THREATS

Sweet chestnut blight is a destructive disease of Sweet Chestnut trees that is caused by the ascomycete fungus Cryphonectria parasitica. First identified in Britain in 2011 in Warwickshire, by 2018 the disease was identified at 37 sites in England and associated with trees imported before the introduction of the UK Protected Zone in 2014. This year a further small number of new outbreak sites were detected in London, West Sussex and Cornwall during surveys. Sweet Chestnut woodland is not widely distributed in the UK, mostly in England amounting to perhaps 2% of England’s wood cover and located mainly in the south, so any impact would be largely regionally and locally felt.

C. parasitica infection is usually fatal to European and North American Sweet Chestnut trees. It devastated forests in eastern USA during the first half of the 20th century, killing an estimated 3.5 billion trees after it was accidentally introduced from Asia, probably during the 19th century. Although losses have not been on the same scale, Sweet Chestnut blight has spread steadily throughout much of Europe, and tree losses have been regionally significant.

References: Books: Meetings with Remarkable Trees – Thomas Pakenham; Flora Brittanica – Richard Mabey Websites: Woodland Trust; Wikipaedia

Winter Woodland

16 Tuesday Jan 2018

Posted by theresagreen in Bryn Euryn Nature Reserve, Nature of Wales, Wildflowers of Wales, woodland walks in Wales

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Tags

alexanders, sweet chestnut, winter walks

January 1st 2018

The early morning was sunny and bright. Perfect for my first walk in the woods of this new year, I thought. Ha! I hadn’t got far when I realised it may not be quite as perfect as I had anticipated. By the time I got outside at around midday the sun had disappeared behind a thick veil of misty cloud, I felt cold despite thermal layers, my new three-way all-weather jacket and walking boots. The track was muddy and a bit slippery; thankfully for once I’d remembered to pick up my pointy-ended light-weight walking stick. This wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but as I want to try to follow the progress of the seasons more closely this year it had to be done. I reminded myself of my double-negatively phrased mantra, “there’s never nothing to see”, crossed my already frozen fingers and trusted that would work.

11:43 – Watching a handsome male blackbird rootling in the ground-covering ivy was a good start; then a grey squirrel with a scruffy sparsely-furred tail made me wonder what it takes to keep them in? It was freezing cold, damp and now getting windy, perfect conditions for a spot of hibernation I’d have thought; they must be too hungry to sleep.

Grey sky through bare branches

I do love to see the sky through the tracery of bare branches and twigs on days like this when they are almost in monochrome.

Holly has a strong presence year-round, but it struck me today that even on dull days it shines out, seeming to catch any available light touching its leaves and reflecting it back. There were a few berries remaining on this plant but I’m sure they won’t be there for long.

Alexanders – Smyrnium olusatrum

Clumps of bright green leaves of Alexanders started to reappear back in December. Here on the edge of the woodland path they are sheltered by the trees and protected by leaf litter. I’m always surprised it doesn’t get eaten. It was introduced into this country by the Romans; having a delicate celery-like taste, they used it as a culinary herb. Rarely growing more than about four miles from the sea, here it’s at its most prolific on the lower level of the Little Orme and along the Llandudno Road. It’s spreading quite quickly here in this part of the woods too. I wonder how it got here originally?

11:57 – The view from the boundary fence was obscured by the dense misty cloud which seemed to be approaching fast. I could still see part of the River Conwy, but the Carneddau mountains beyond had all but disappeared. The A55, or the North Wales Expressway as it is officially known, is busy with traffic whatever the day. The main route westward and up through Anglesey to the Irish ferry port at Holyhead, it is also heavily used by locals for short commutes and holidaymakers and tourists all year round. The railway line runs alongside it too. Running along the valley bottom, vehicle noise is amplified and rises up to become the background sound to my walks, even the mist hardly muffles it. It is so continuous though that your mind soon ceases to register it.

The Scots Pines are at their most numerous in this spot. On the woodland boundary and exposed to strong west winds their trunks are angled backwards and branches are contorted and twisted into some weird and wonderful shapes.

Woodland Trail

A sprinkling of golden gorse flowers brightened the greyness of the day and a quick inhale of its gorgeous coconut fragrance gave me a boost and the will to continue!

It’s less sheltered up on the Woodland Trail, which is for the most part a corridor through the trees, so deciding which way to go was easy; a right turn and then up, back into the closer shelter of trees. I passed by the big holly tree, hardly any berries remained and there were no birds to see there. There are good crops of ivy berries this year, but they seem to be ripening sporadically and slowly. I often come across plants throughout the woods that have escaped from gardens. I hadn’t spotted this mahonia before though – it’s preparing to flower which will no doubt be gratefully received by the red & the buff-tailed bumblebee queens when they emerge in a few short weeks time.

180101-1209-Mahonia grden escape flower buds

12:11 – It started to rain heavily. I was fairly protected by the trees so decided to carry on. A party of Long-tailed tits flew above me, calling to one another as they moved quickly through the high tree branches. Tiny birds, they clearly have to keep searching for food but surely need to keep warm and dry too; not easy when there are no leaves.

The wind picked up. On the north side of the hill and gradually getting higher, it was noticeably colder too. If I had sense I’d probably have gone home now, but I really wanted to get to the top of the hill today. At least this weather suits blackbirds foraging in deep leaf litter.

I passed the ‘fernery’ – the open slope that is lushly covered with predominantly Hart’s Tongue fern growing between moss-covered stones. If it was warmer it may feel quite tropical. The smudges are raindrops on the camera lens!

I was glad to reach the part of the trail I think of as the ‘Dark Wood’. It is sheltered by the rising bulk of the hillside and some tall old trees, including a good few Yews, which all combine to block out the sunlight and today some of the rain.

At the end of the tree tunnel is a particularly large evergreen tree, one of several that I know throughout the woodland. I’m trying to work out what they are, so any ideas would be gratefully received.

For some reason I can’t begin to guess at, an iron gate stands at the side of the track just past here. There’s no sign of any fencing on either side of it. It’s just a gate to nowhere.

Gate to nowhere

It does stand near to the junction of a track leading up to the summit though, making it easier to remember where its start is. Covered with leaves it doesn’t stand out and is easy to miss.

The muddy leaf-covered upward track is easily missed

12:26 – The upward track was muddy and slippery and I was glad I had my spiky walking stick, otherwise progress could easily have been a painful step forward and a slide back. It was still raining, my fingers were freezing and I was the only person trekking to the top. Can’t think why. The flash of a colourful Bullfinch disturbed from a bramble patch, eating what remains of blackberries really brightened my day. He disappeared into the scrub of hazel and blackthorn. Hazel catkins start growing at the end of the summer or early autumn and are making steady progress; these are the male flowers, the tiny red female flowers will appear a little later on when the male flowers are fully mature.

Hazel catkins

The twiggy branches of the blackthorns are well-covered with lichen, including clumps of the beautiful silver-green ferny one that feels velvety to the touch. It is a lichen, but confusingly called Oak Moss.

Oak Moss-Evernia prunestri on blackthorn

12:42 – Emerging onto the hill top was breathtaking. Quite literally – it was raining hard, blowing a hooley and bitingly cold. I took a couple of snaps while the wind tried to wrench the camera out of my hands and the rain obscured the view further by dropping onto the lens. There was no way I was going to carry on up to the summit proper.

The sea is out there somewhere

12:50 – I turned and scurried back to the comparative shelter of the track, stopping only because I couldn’t resist this gnarly tree trunk decorated with moss and lichen.

Then there was an extremely tall tree painted with both orange and green lichens and daubed with cushion-like moss. I couldn’t resist that either.

I spot a small Elder that already has quite well-grown new leaves.

13:04 – I watched a blackbird that was having great success finding worms in the mud. I watched it pull out and eat two or three.

It had finally stopped raining and the sun was shining through the trees. It was still really cold though and although only early afternoon, gloomy and dark.

I took a slightly different route back to where I started as it’s a higher, less well used and still covered with leaves and much less slippery. It also cuts across the slope that is part of the view from my kitchen window and is a good place to be to see some of the birds that descend from here down to our bird feeders. No birds today, but I did realise that two of the trees up here are big old Sweet Chestnuts. They have beautifully coloured and textured bark.

Sweet Chestnut-Castania sativa

Sweet chestnut bark

13:22 – One last splash of colour – rust-red leaves remaining on a small tree, I’m assuming Copper beech that has found its way here from someone’s garden.

13:39 – I’m home, hands wrapped around a mug of defrosting tea, watching some of the birds I didn’t see whilst out. They’d doubtless think it bonkers to go out on a day like this when you really don’t have to.

Everlasting Green

10 Sunday Dec 2017

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, Bryn Euryn Nature Reserve, nature of woodlands, North Wales, plants important to wilflife, woodland birds, woodland walks in Wales

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blackbird behaviour, Certhia familiaris, evergreen ferns, evergreen trees, garrulus glandarius, goldcrest, holly, holly berries, Jay, long-tailed tit, Regulus regulus, sweet chestnut, the importance of ivy, treecreeper, turdus merula

December 3rd-Woodland Path, Bryn Euryn

The deciduous trees of the woodland have for the most part shed their leaves now and they cover the ground in a thick damp carpet, exuding the evocative earthy aroma that characterises this time of the year. Their falling has opened up the overhead canopy, highlighting the evergreen flora that has merged into the background since the Spring.

The amount of permanent greenery always takes me by surprise. Much is in the varying forms of native trees and shrubs; dark dense Yew that fills spaces from the ground upwards, Scot’s Pines with tall trunks and bristly green crowns, glossy spiky Holly, some sprinkled with shiny green berries and of course Ivy, masses of it. There are other non-native residents too, sprawling Laurel being the most evident.

Laurel at the junction of woodland paths

Fallen leaves of sycamore and oak

Ivy is a much-maligned native evergreen that was thought to strangle trees as well as spoil their appearance. In the days when this woodland would have been strictly managed it would probably have been regularly stripped away. Now left to its own devices it is without doubt the most dominant of the native evergreens here; scrambling to the tops of even the tallest of trees in its search for light and covering large areas of the understorey too. The benefits of ivy to wildlife are enormous; both its pollen and berries can be an essential source of food for many insects and birds and it provides shelter for invertebrates, birds, small mammals and bats. At this time of year it also gives cover to foraging parties of small birds such as tits and treecreepers whilst they search amongst its stems and leaves for hibernating insects and spiders.

Ivy clambers up almost every tree

There’s green at ground level too; Polypody and Hart’s Toungue ferns are both evergreen. There are bright green patches of mosses and grey-green lichen is dusted in varying amounts onto most tree trunks and branches.

I love the little ‘scenes’ I find at this time of the year, full of interesting textures, shapes and forms and coloured in earthy shades of green and brown. Here the base of an oak tree has bright green moss and grey-green lichen growing on its fissured bark and tendrils of ivy are beginning their climb up. A polypody fern has found a sheltered spot, there’s a tiny new holly plant and the beginnings of a bramble.

Nearby the fresh green leaves of Alexanders are already showing through the leaf litter.

Without the dressing of leaves the architecture of individual trees is revealed. I must have passed this tree dozens of times as I’ve walked this path but today it caught my attention as the sunlight turned its remaining dried out leaves to coppery gold.

I was unsure of the species of tree; looking upwards I saw it was tall, and also that its trunk and twisted branches appear bleached and much of its covering of bark is missing. Not helpful, but looking properly at the size and shape of the leaves I’m leaning towards Sweet Chestnut, another popularly planted non-native. There’s been no evidence of the prickly chestnuts though, so I’ll have to check to see if it produces flowers next Spring.

Ivy is creeping up the trunk of the tree and it has a backdrop of dense dark green Yew and shiny Holly.

Holly, ivy and yew

Long-tailed tit

I hear the contact calls of Tits and stand still hoping it means a feeding party are heading my way. It did indeed and now I don’t know where to look first as Long-tailed, Blue and Great Tits swoop and dart around the branches of the nearby trees. Some venture lower down giving me eye-level views. There were less birds in the party than those I saw a few weeks ago, so maybe they’ve split into smaller numbers as the availability of food has diminished. They seem to be travelling faster too, not lingering for long in one spot.

Blue tit

I wasn’t too far from where the Scots pines are gathered. Popular trees with the Tits I wondered if that was where they were headed. The trees are tall and positioned on the edge of the woodland; many have been distorted by exposure to winds and the search for light. With no low branches, their foliage is all on their crowns, so sighting anything as small as a tit is tricky, especially in sunshine. The light is beautiful up there though; I love these upward views of the tree canopy, especially on blue sky days. I’m thinking I would like to see a Coal tit though, haven’t seen one for ages.

Scots pine

A gathering of Scot’s Pines

I always stop here and look over the wire fence that marks the boundary of the private woodland and a small field. Trees on its edge although leafless are greened with ivy and gorse, which may well have once been planted as a hedge to contain livestock, has some golden blossom.

The views across the landscape to the Carneddau Mountains on the edge of Snowdonia are ever-changing with the light and the seasons and are always breathtaking.

Woodland Trail

I reach the top of the Woodland Path, and as always take note of the oak tree here at the junction with the Woodland Trail that marks the boundary of the Bryn Euryn Nature Reserve. It still has some leaves clinging on but they are fewer and browner now than a couple of weeks ago.

Oak tree on November 19th

Oak tree on December 3rd

I turn right, then a few metres on turn left onto the narrow unmarked track that leads upwards through the woodland.

I spot a large holly bush endowed with a generous crop of berries.

Walking towards it I disturb several Blackbirds from their feasting on the berries on its far side. Confident the hungry birds would come back once they thought the coast was clear, I stopped to wait a short way away, lurking behind a nearby tree.

If you’re looking out for birds, staying still in a likely spot is often more rewarding than any amount of walking and the next few moments bore this out. This part of the wood is favoured by Jays and I heard some screeching to to one another close by. At first I couldn’t locate them, but then saw one progress its way down from a tree to some low vegetation then onto the ground where it began searching for its stash of buried acorns. The green plant in the picture is newly-sprung Dog Mercury.

Brilliant to have such great views of two of these gorgeous and notoriously wary birds. I noticed one of them had what appeared to be an injury to its left side where feathers had been lost; maybe it was from the beak of another bird competing for buried treasure. It seemed OK though and was behaving perfectly normally. Then another treat. The little feeding party I’d seen earlier passed overhead and around me, Long-tailed and Blue tits in tree branches above, then flickering movements in the Holly bush alerted me to the presence of a tiny Goldcrest.

The Goldcrest is Britain’s smallest bird

These tiny jewels of birds, (Britain’s smallest), when on the hunt for insects are constantly moving, flitting deftly through dense foliage, hanging upside down effortlessly and even fluttering frantically to hover like a hummingbird, which must use up a lot of energy. They are delightful and fascinating to watch, but tricky to keep in focus and even trickier to photograph.

A Goldcrest can hover like a hummingbird

Holly is dimorphic, which means it has separate male and female plants, and only female trees bear berries. Traditional country wisdom has it that bountiful crops of berries are a sign of a hard winter to come. More scientific modern reckoning is that it is sign of a good summer past; we certainly had plenty of rain to swell berries this year. I was surprised that the berries were being taken so early in the season though, I hope it doesn’t mean there’s already a shortage of other food available.

Most of the birds I saw appeared to be juveniles and they do seem to have been taking the fully-ripe berries.

Blackbird-Turdus merula

I was also surprised to find flowers on several bushes. They usually come forth around May when they stand a better chance of getting pollinated.

The low sun shines brightly through the trees spotlighting a small spindly tree with golden leaves. Once again I don’t know what species it is but from the size, shape and beautiful colouration of its leaves think it’s fairly safe to say it’s a maple.

“The Holly and the Ivy, Now they are both full grown” …….

Ivy completely covers a tall tree, Holly in front and a still-green Male fern on the ground

Another interesting little ‘scene’ catches my attention…

I’m never sure about the placement of this commemorative bench. It is weathered, covered with lichen and appears to have been there for decades, but the plaque gives a much more recent date. A reminder how nature is quick to move in given the chance.

It’s a shame the bench doesn’t face the other way as there’s a lovely display of ferns behind it; Hart’s Tongue, Polypody and Male Ferns are there and there’s pretty ferny moss too.

Past the bench the path continues through what I think of as ‘the Dark Wood’. Here the hillside rises steeply upwards on one side and almost as steeply downwards on the other. On the north/north-west side of the Bryn not much sunlight reaches here and there’s a density of Yew trees that also make it seem darker.

A spreading Yew

There are a lot of Silver Birches here too, which you would think would lighten the place up, but at their lower level trunks have darkened and on a few the bark has become strangely thickened and fissured.

From the lower downward slope a mighty tree trunk rises, by far the biggest tree here and that I’ve always assumed was a mighty pine, a Redwood or Sequoia or such-like.

But today I noticed some large fallen leaves that could only have come from it. It would seem then that it’s another Sweet Chestnut, but here a properly magnificent specimen. What a shame to have only restricted views.

On the opposite side of the path a sheer cliff of exposed limestone towers and adds to the atmosphere. I wonder if it was once part of the defences of the ancient hill-fort that was located on the summit.

Water often leaks from fissures in the porous rock and moss thrives on its shaded damp surface.

Having a closer look at the moss I found another fern amongst it, a tiny delicate one I’ve not noticed here before; a Maidenhair Spleenwort.

(I’m working on identifying mosses!)

Maidenhair spleenwort-Asplenium trichomanes

Past here there are more darkly-ivied trees. Today a movement caught my eye – another sighting of a foraging Goldcrest!

I watched it for what seemed like ages trying to keep it in sight as it flitted from branch-to-trunk-to-branch, in and out of the ivy, now doing its hummingbird impression – and then demonstrating a behaviour I’d read about but never seen; it climbed up the thick ivy stems like a tiny treecreeper. What brilliant little birds they are. I wish I’d had better light for better photographs.

A short way further on you are back out onto the wider brighter more open Woodland Trail. Going down the wooden steps takes you to the car park, or as I opted, to loop around onto the lower part of the trail to get back to where I started.