The Wilden Marsh Blog

Monthly Archives: August 2011

(Click on image to enlarge) 22nd August 2011: The tall grass has turned the colour of straw and is dying back. Leaves are falling rapidly from most of the trees, particularly quickly from the willows. I can see fox tracks again. The muntjac deer tracks and their beds are now clearly visible, too. Gaps have appeared in the walls of Himalayan Balsam stalks, allowing a better view down the River Stour. Honey… Read More

(Click on images to enlarge) 20th August 2011: Something, or someone, has fiddled with my fox-cam! I carefully set up the remote camera each time I use it. I select a suitable target – usually a distinctive tree or bush – so that I can estimate distances of the animals from the lens when I am reviewing the photographs. I checked my camera last week and again today, and on both occasions… Read More

(Click on images to enlarge) 7th August 2011: A family of swans swam on the River Stour today: mum, dad and three cygnets. They were feasting on the Himalayan Balsam flowers that have invaded the river banks – they really seemed to be enjoying them. I haven’t seen a swan on the river since February, but this doesn’t mean that swans haven’t been there: I just haven’t seen any. It’s good to have them… Read More

(Click on images to enlarge) 5th August 2011: The marsh flora is in the process of shutting-down for the winter, and it’s showing all the signs of running rapidly out of steam. It’s as if the high-energy demands made on the marsh by the vegetation during the growing season, have sucked nearly all the water from the soil. The once wet and spongy ground is now dry, hard and dusty. The millions of different… Read More

(Click on images to enlarge) 31st July 2011: Grubbing about in the undergrowth yesterday, flat on my stomach, searching for grasshoppers, reminded me of my childhood: My first meaningful encounter with nature could have been in my father’s garden, or in his allotment. My father grew vegetables and fruit. From a very early age, I was obsessed with digging tunnels. I dug them in my father’s garden, in his allotment; in fact,… Read More

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