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tunnel of light |
The Common is preparing
for its long winter sleep – already waterlogged this autumn
and very short on acorns, crab apples, hazelnuts and berries, which
birds and small mammals rely on through the coldest months.
I ventured out into autumn
sunshine after an absence of several weeks and my spirits lifted immediately as
I approached the tunnel of light leading to my favourite stretches of wood
pasture. It felt quiet and lonely without the grazing cattle, returned to the
farmyard for winter, and the bush where adders like to bask was abandoned.
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woodmouse nest |
But in the wildwood corner
where we sited our dormouse nest boxes there were abundant signs of woodmice:
boxes crammed full with dry brown oak leaves, and in one a family of four
popping out of the back, one by one. They’re not fussy about who the boxes were
designed for, just happy to make do with whatever shelter is available. Perhaps
that’s why they’re so successful.
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des res for dormice |
A few days later, after a
heavy frost, I found a very torpid adder snatching a few weak rays of sunshine
before hibernation. He was like a stubborn child refusing to accept it was
bedtime even though he was clearly cold and tired - so sluggish, I could easily
have picked him up if I’d been feeling stupid.
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torpid male adder |
Our hot dry spring in
March, followed by thewettest summer on record and a similarly drenched autumn,
has been disastrous for most fauna and flora. Frogs found empty ponds when they
wanted to spawn; many bats and dormice failed to gain enough weight to breed;
songbird broods perished in torrential rain; it was too wet for bees to
pollinate fruiting trees; butterflies foundered.
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amethyst deceiver |
Fungi, though, are having
a ball in the sodden ground. The meadow margins are festooned with vivid
colours, peculiar textures and weirder shapes, most of them nibbled by hungry
mice. The amethyst deceiver dazzles me every time with the depth of its colour,
its delicate shape and exquisite curvy gills. You would think from the name
that it contains deadly poison – but no, it’s very edible.
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fungi on dead log |
A local fungi expert gives
sound advice for an amateur forager keen to avoid poisoning herself: “Don’t eat
anything with gills”. There are more than 4,000 species of fungi in Surrey alone, most with variable colours and forms and
some extremely hard to tell apart, even by mycologists.
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