Tremella mesentrica on ash. 21 January 2017 The sun casts long winter shadows over hoar frost, sapping colour from green pastures. The fells are sombre and ill-defined. The hoar frost has the Lyth Valley in its clutches. Enchantment comes closer and I’ve never seen Gamblesmire Lane in such rollicking mood, enlivened by sunlight and shadow. The pallor of the grey frost subdues the landscape. A mistlethrush sings from a hawthorn above the escarpment, taking flight as runners approach. Down from their rookery, rooks forage on pastureland and the sun glosses them deep in colour. A holly intertwines with an ash and a bright speck of colour catches my eye. What can it be?
The winter sun transforms the ash which rise from the Scout Scar limestone. These winter trees have a magic exclusive to the season, an elusive and transient magic. Sometimes they appear in confederacy, about to dance. Shine a strong light on them and they age before your eyes. Dead or simply senescent? Exposed on the ridge of Scout Scar, they come into leaf later than ash in the shelter of the dip slope. Up here, they never make the full stately height of ash. They hunker down against the elements, anchoring a raft of roots in limestone. Today, every canker, every wrinkle and eruption in their bark is made visible. I pause to study the way an evergreen holly grows in the embrace of an ash, struck by the sunlit detail of ash bark, the beauty of decay. What is that blob of colour, just above the highest holly leaves? Perhaps a bird has eaten red- berried holly and defecated on the ash, but there’s no trace of berries on the holly and beneath the tree. A fungus perhaps? The colour is such a deep red I’m puzzled.
- Click on images to enlarge and to read captions
Irrespective of identifying a fungus, I like the aesthetic of these images. That warm colour on a January day of hoar frost. Tremella mesentrica, yellow brain fungus which I found once before on an ash tree in a limestone terrace on Whitbarrow a few miles west of Scout Scar. Bright yellow and so big that it looked like a piece of plastic caught up in a tree and walkers were curious and went to look. I doubt anyone but me has seen today’s specimen. The holly leaf shows it’s small and if you switch off the sunlight it wouldn’t show. In close-up, you can see darker and less gelatinous lobes of the fruit body. As the fungus dehydrates the colour deepens but the last week has seen fog and dank and drizzly weather. I’ve never seen this colouration before.
I love to find Tremella mesentrica in the pallor of January. Enter the name in the blog search box, top right, to find other images and you’ll see the yellow for which yellow brain fungus is named.
I love to find Tremella mesentrica in the pallor of January. Enter the name in the blog search box, top right, to find other images and you’ll see the yellow for which yellow brain fungus is named.
Otter Sightings in the River Kent
Once again, otters are being seen in the River Kent. An otter with three kits, it is said. Last week my friend Monica and I walked the river in search of otter, and I several days since, but the weather has been January dismal and the light poor until yesterday when I preferred to be out of town. In Cumbrian Contrasts, I write about the splendid otter sightings I had in winter 2012. Once again, the otters draw us in. Stand looking through binoculars into the river and you can bet someone will come up and engage you in nature talk.
Once again, otters are being seen in the River Kent. An otter with three kits, it is said. Last week my friend Monica and I walked the river in search of otter, and I several days since, but the weather has been January dismal and the light poor until yesterday when I preferred to be out of town. In Cumbrian Contrasts, I write about the splendid otter sightings I had in winter 2012. Once again, the otters draw us in. Stand looking through binoculars into the river and you can bet someone will come up and engage you in nature talk.
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