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SIlverdale: Bottoms Wood and Wood Well

25/11/2015

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PictureThe Kent Viaduct
​‘I’ve looked it up, so you don’t have to.’  I was amused to hear this from a Today presenter on radio 4. I sometimes feel it’s my by-line as I spend hours looking things up. It’s fun, but time-consuming.  Correcting proofs for my new book Cumbrian Contrasts, I have to be meticulous and I’m about to begin on that.  So  writing a blog is light relief.  I’m tempted to let images speak for themselves. Why not?  Now and again.  I know very well why not, because there are naturalists who always want to know more.  And I’m one.  Curiosity rules. 

Late November isn’t the best season for naturalists- Nature hunkers down.  I had heard of winter thrush in thousands at Arnside and Silverdale but we found only a handful of fieldfare in the tree-tops.   There were  fallen yew arils is a squash of red on the ground, and candle snuff fungus in a rotting log bored by invertebrates.  Below Wood Well Cliff we encountered a working party, including folk we knew, so we stopped to chat. A young National Trust warden told us they were clearing the footpath, cutting back hard at the least invasive time of year- they did not want to disturb nesting birds. He explained about coppicing and creating glades, pools of sunlight for butterflies. His mate told us about the history of Wood Well, in the early 20th century the water supply for Silverdale. Residents resisted the coming of mains water because they knew it would attract housing development. So here cattle came to drink and there was domestic water supply too.  
In Bottoms Wood and approaching Wood Well Cliff there were information boards telling how coppicing works and of the wildlife to be found hereabouts. I photographed them because it’s a habit I’ve developed whilst writing Cumbrian Contrasts.  Easier to study them back home.  How do we know what to look for and what’s special about a place.  We engaged with Wood Well Cliff in a wholly different way because of that interlude with the working party. They were busy all through the wood so for half an hour we kept meeting more and more of them, stopping to chat and to admire their creation of new habitat in wood piles of fresh-cut branches.  The young warden shed light on the place on a late November day when one of the  signs of spring was hazel catkins fully formed and ready to hibernate until the days grew longer once more.  He talked of a wealth of nature we were never going to see in November.  That’s what conservationists must seek to do, to bring the place alive for us even when it’s quiescent. Something amazing will burst forth out of that winter sleep. Until then, we have to imagine it. 
Our walk took us to the shore but we did not linger there to explore.  Something on my list is samphire in late autumn. I’ve found it here before but not at this season and it’s said to turn a beautiful rosy colour. Next time perhaps. 
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    Jan Wiltshire is a nature writer living in Cumbria. She also explores islands and coast and the wildlife experience. (See Home and My Books.)

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