Ashes to ashes

Last night, I found a newt lying apparently dead on a country lane. I picked it up and it moved a little, so I decided to take it home to check for damage (a car had just passed):

Male Smooth Newt

It seemed ok and survived the night, so I took it up to the local stream and released it there.

The stream runs alongside a country lane that is edged on both sides by Ash trees:

Craigs Road with Ash trees

Given that Chalara fraxinea has been detected not far from here, I rather suspect that these trees won't last much longer (hence the title of this post). This will, of course, be disastrous from the perspective of the trees, but Ash isn't the obligate food source of very many fungi or insects, so the impact on overall biodiversity is not likely to be as bad as it could have been.

The stream runs alongside the right-hand side of the road in the deep shade of the trees, and is a great source of water plants, with numerous liverworts and mosses on the rear wall:

Opposite-leaved Golden Saxifrage with the liverwort Conocephalum conicum

Many of these plants like dark, damp conditions, so I suspect the rear wall flora will be altered until some other trees grow to provide more shade.

The stream is where I always find the first flowering specimens of Lesser Celandine, and a few flowers were just beginning to open:

Lesser Celandine just opening

Just as I was taking the above shots, I heard the unmistakeable deep croak of the Raven. I looked up and saw a pair circling overhead:

Ravens over Craigs Road

They circled and kept me in view for quite a while before flying off west. I managed this shot showing the very distinctive tail:

Raven

At the top of the stream, where it emerges from an underground run, there is a wall that is always good for a few moss shots. This is a back-lit shot of Tortula muralis:

The moss Tortula muralis

I like to think that the setae (the 'stalks' that hold the capsules aloft) are light pipes, driving sunlight directly to the interior of the plants.

The capsules of many mosses are held well clear of the foliage in order to enhance the chances of spore dispersal, but Grimmia pulvinata continues to puzzle me with its insistence on keeping the capsules buried deep under the leaves:

Grimmia pulvinata, with buried capsules

You can just make out the brown capsules in that shot.

This shot of Barbula unguiculata would make a nice banner for somewhere:

Barbula unguiculata

 On the other side of the road, we have an untended copse where dead wood is ideal for fungi. This white crusting fungus is Meruliopsis corium:

Meruliopsis corium

There are also a few patches of Snowdrops in the same area:

Snowdrops

A quick check on the Willows showed that the catkins are well advanced, so perhaps spring is on the way after all.

Willow catkins

Dry and warm

A high pressure weather system has been lurking to the south of Ireland for a few days, bringing some dry and warm weather. This morning was bright and warm, so I dashed off to a likely spot to see what I could find. An inspection of the stream bank revealed hundreds of Lesser Celandines in bud, and a single flower which is - to all intents and purposes - open:

Lesser Celandine

And right beside it, a single specimen of Creeping Buttercup in flower:

Creeping Buttercup

A nearby boggy area revealed Ivy-leaved Water Crowfoot in bud:

Ivy-leaved Water Crowfoot in bud

And Brooklime making strong green growth:

Brooklime

Further along the hedgerow I found a couple of specimens of Tubaria furfuracea, which is a Hawthorn associate:

Tubaria furfuracea

And Gorse in flower:

Gorse

Whilst examining a wall for mosses (more of those later) I spotted a few Snowdrops with open flowers:

Snowdrop

Well done to anybody spotting the small fly on the flower sheath!

Mosses are truly beautiful in all their parts, especially when they have sunlight to brighten them up. Yes, they are very small, but if you 'get down to their size', both physically and metaphorically, you will find beauty that is almost beyond belief.

This shot shows three specimens of Tortula muralis:

Tortula muralis

Here's a close-up of the maturing spore capsules:

Capsules of Tortula muralis

I'm convinced those setae (the 'stalks' of the capsules) are light pipes that transfer light directly down into the dark parts of the mosses.

Grimmia pulvinata has globular capsules that never emerge much beyond the leaf tips:

Grimmia pulvinata, showing hidden capsules

Bryum capillare has 'nodding head' capsules on long setae:

Bryum capillare capsules

Is this really early January, or did I miss a couple of months?

Little things

This is a great time to have a look at mosses: many of the fruiting capsules are ripe and ready to release their spores for the next generation. I really like the setae ('stems') that support the capsules: many of them are translucent and come in various shades of green, yellow or red. If you can get a back-lit shot, then the results can be very beautiful indeed, as this shot of Tortula muralis shows:

Notice that the red capsule lids are sliding upwards over the capsules as they expand to make room for the growing spores.

There has been a recent trend to 'dumb-down' the names of many species of mosses, lichens and fungi by giving them 'friendly English' names. Tortula muralis would be known as Wall Screw-moss if this system became more popular. I'll stick with the latin binominal.

Since the primary purpose of the setae is to give the spores the best chance of distribution via exposure to wind and/or rain, I find the system used by the moss Grimmia pulvinata to be almost perverse: the setae are invariably strongly curved, leading to a situation where the capsules are always buried below the leaves of the parent plant:

I cannot think of a reason for this system, but Grimmia pulvinata is one of the more common mosses on our wall tops, so it obviously works well enough.

A quick couple of flower shots:

Snowdrops fully opened

And a glimpse of the first daisy of the year: Groundsel:

Stirrings

I thought I would take a look at the likely suspects today and found encouraging signs that our wildlife is at least having a try at this early point of the year.

A single Snowdrop was just opening; the rest were still firmly closed.

And a single Lesser Celandine bud had appeared:

The closely-related Ivy-leaved Water Crowfoot has started to come into growth on the muddy entrance to the field:

The jelly fungus Tremella mesenterica, or Witches Butter, appears to grow on dead Gorse branches, but in fact it's parasitic on the almost-invisible crusting fungus Peniophora incarnata, which grows on dead Gorse: 

This stacked dependency is a recurring theme in our wildlife: without the Gorse there would be no Peniophora and without the Peniophora there would be no Mesenterica. When you consider that Gorse is also the specific host for some moths, beetles and other fungi, you begin to see that removal of one species can have a significant impact on the whole series of its dependent species.

I also spotted the Hawthorn associate Tubaria furfuracea:

Award yourself bonus points if you can identify the leaf to the left of the image.

Rocky ledge

On one part of the hedgerow there's a rocky outcrop about 2m wide. It's absolutely covered in mosses and liverworts which are atypical for this area. This is the only place I know that has the beautiful moss Fissidens cristatus (image shown is about 3 cm. wide):


Notice the puckered leaves, which are a fairly common feature on larger-leaved mosses and are probably used to increase surface area.

The spore capsules are very prolific:


Fissidens species have very interesting 'pockets' in their leaves, which retain moisture (the pocket is the darker patch in the centre of the image, where you can see some air bubbles; image is x40):


This is a shot of individual leaf cells at x400:


Lichens have developed a number of interesting methods of reproduction. Some throw pure fungal spores into the air in the hope that they will land on an unsuspecting alga, thereby establishing a new lichen specimen. Others drop little packages of fungus and alga: a 'ready to go' version of the adult. And some just break off pieces of their body, again as 'ready to go' specimens.

Lepraria incana is typical of the latter type, and it is often found on crumbly banks of soil. What better place to grow if you want to lose bits of yourself?


Just round the corner from the rock I found some Snowdrops. The severe winter has put these back by at least 3 weeks this year:

Snowdrops

The Snowdrops are certainly later this year.