January 2017 — fieldfares

The idea of leaving something behind when we are no longer around appeals greatly to raisers of trees. Shortly before Christmas, were in the Oxfam shop, where I was hailed by a wiry and agile-looking individual. It was Colin, the steeple-jack who has attended to high-level problems affecting the church building and he had something to impart. ‘That oak sapling you gave me has really taken off.’ He stretched an arm upwards to indicate a height of two metres.

   The plant started life as an acorn collected on the outskirts of Hereford, the finest trees in the region being English Oaks (Quercus robur). The largest specimen I came across was Elgar’s Oak, a massive spreading titan with a huge girth, growing at a property associated with the composer. The young tree given to Colin was grown from an acorn found beneath a characteristically majestic oak growing in a field next to the River Wye. It has been planted in Wales.

   While English oak has served many purposes, the most notable must be its use in the construction of our naval fighting ships, a celebrated example being the Mary Rose (launched 1511). One can only try to imagine the skills practised by the woodsmen who felled such giants and those of the shipwrights who fashioned planks and hull components from the trunks.

   There is one other British oak species, the Sessile Oak (Quercus petraea), also with a history of usefulness. There is one growing a few yards from the church door.

Fieldfare

   For those of us who dislike the onset of winter, the sometimes mild and sunny weather has been welcome indeed. A walk uphill towards the Roebuck Inn on December 28 gave a clear view over the Medlock Valley. A Heron traversed the upper reservoir in a long gliding action, changing direction with no apparent effort. Above a field next to Shiloh Lane, a Kestrel hovered, perfectly braced against the prevailing wind as it maintained a steady wingbeat. The best part of the walk was the presence of a large flock of Fieldfares on Holroyd’s land. These marvellous grey and chestnut thrushes migrate here to avoid the harsh weather of Northern Europe. So intent on feeding in the grass were they that it was easy to observe them at length.

First published in January 2017