The fungi to be with

Having spent much of the time on patrol looking upwards and around, September is the time to start looking down. The damp, cool ground now abounds with fungus in different stages of growth. Some are merely budding while some are drooping and melting away in to blackness. There are the solitary ones and those which are in tight clusters. Clearly, there are the strict ground dwellers while others cling to wood. Broad, meaty discs are found along with pale and flimsy umbrellas. And no doubt, somewhere, the red, spotted fly agaric, looking like a sesame seed burger bun.

I do not know very much about these plants. I understand that many are very poisonous and fatal if eaten. I must admit to eating only those I find in Sainsbury's. I remember, clearly, my father walking in to the house with field mushrooms which he fried with eggs and bacon and which I loved to eat. They were huge things, six or seven inches across, white on top with black gills underneath. I suppose the spread of housing and retail parks will have taken away much of the land where once they grew, but fifty years ago, meadows and open land was literally on our doorstep.

I suppose they all have names and perhaps this could be a task for next year. I could become a bit more familiar with some of the ones associated with the parkland, though I will stop short of trying to eat any.

Having, last time, seen a rather static buzzard, Ian and I were gifted the sight of four in flight. As we approached the Argyll monument, first one, then two and finally a quartet of these birds were seen at tree top height dropping occasionally and frustratingly, for us, behind the trees of Warren wood. Their markings and colouring were very clear. With the sun behind us illuminating the birds, it was the best view I have had of these creatures.

The day was warm, the sky was clear and they began their circling and climbing, using the slope of the land with its thermals. They were lost to the sight of the naked eye, only to be seen again over Keeper's Pond. They were clearly enjoying themselves soaring and wheeling around, because, as Ian often says, they can.

Today had a misty start. around Keeper's Pond, where the atmosphere was, at the least, autumnal with limited visibility and very little activity.The cool and misty September morning gave way to some brightness, as we reached the lower parkland and we saw two jays winging it away from the area around Lucy's Pond, heading towards the trees near the Serpentine. Sudden bird flight and activity are, to Ian and, in an increasing way, to me, indicative of something going on.

We had both heard, only minutes before, a cacophony of mallard on the Serpentine and I saw an avian flash as something flew into the trees there to begin the ducks' racket. A minute or two's patience was soon rewarded as the cause of the disturbance was soon seen leaving. A sparrow hawk had buzzed the ducks - not that he was after a duck. He simply flew into an area where they were and they decided he was not welcome.
But back to the jays. What had spooked them? Ian soon pointed out, for he is eagle eyed for such things, atop of a tall tree close to Lucy's pond the possible cause. A buzzard - the common buzzard. It is a bird of prey. I am sorry that I cannot get used to calling them raptors. From my boyhood at West Dyke Junior school, gazing over the prints in a large colourful edition Birds of Britain, these large, hooked beaked, big birds were birds of prey. Raptors is not the word of choice for me.

Now here was a buzzard. It is the first time I had seen one perched. They are not very graceful when perching. Dumpy and dull, they are just a clump of plumage with a smallish head and a not too threatening beak - but them I am not a small mammal on its receiving end.

For no obvious reason, the buzzard took flight. It just slipped its perch and fell in to the space below and behind the trees. We walked on to find the same buzzard sitting in another tree bit now not alone. But a few crows were not happy about this buzzard being here and were mobbing it until it decided that enough was enough and almost wearily took to flight and away.

This rather frumpy lump of buzzard is not designed for beauty, except when it is in full gliding flight. Once airborne, their lack of grace is no more. The bird is clearly built to soar. Its outline is all for flight, with broad deep wings and large fan tail. The relatively small head is only part of it not deemed necessary for flying.
The wings make a graceful dihedral in flight with the fingertip feathers flexing and stretching to adjust height and attitude. We were not witness to this today, but such sights are becoming quite common in the Parkland. It is certainly something to keep an eye open for.

The last of August

I suppose this may be the last day of summer. September is around the corner and the season of autumn, if not yet on the calendar, is certainly moving into the wings.

Trish asked if it was alright to walk around with me and, of course, it was wholly acceptable. I decided to follow the route that is my own figure of eight. Across from the house, towards the Rotunda, through the woods behind, up towards the Duke, back to the Rotunda, but keeping house side of the Serpentine and from the Serpentine Bridge back up to the house. It's quite my favourite walk. It can be extended by going below the Serpentine and then across the bridge, but not today.
The day was fine. Big blue skies with bold white clouds made the house seem minutely human against this celestial backdrop. It was busy. Dr Michael Klemperer met us as we crossed the parkland towards the Rotunda. A motorbike, rider and two other people stood down the slope in the distance and Michael, accompanied by a someone from Radio Sheffield, assured me they were on deer business and therefore on legitimate parkland business.

Michael told us that the Rotunda doors were open and that we were able to see inside. Inside, the floor was laid out in black and white square tiles, with a circle at its centre patterned with a hexagonal star. The interior height was quite impressive, but without the door being open, it would be quite gloomy.

And onward. The fruits of autumn were beginning to show in abundance. Hips and haws were vividly shouting to Trish, but for me, with some colour blindness, I could not appreciate the display. I had to be guided to where this red and green was at its most vivid.
This was the busiest day in the parkland for me. When filling out the ranger report we have to put down the number of people we see in the parkland. For week after week, we say that we saw no-one in the parkland or perhaps two or three at most - and the occasional dog. But today, Trish and I came at odds in trying to keep stock. We are not counting in hundreds or even tens, but double figures is unknown territory for me. Four dogs and thirteen people! That will be it for the numbers this year.

We caught sight of a hare, the red deer where not in evidence, but the sight of deer personnel would indicate that that they will be back soon.
Within the woodland, fungi are entering their fruiting season as, within their bracts, they show the colours of the encroaching seasons, warm and cold browns, reds, grey and white.