Multi-tasking

Whilst checking the sheep at one of the meadows recently, I was very struck by the amazing structure of some teasel heads in the ditch and how they have evolved to be so 'multi-purpose'.
Earlier in the season, the tall stems carry the flowers aloft, advertising the tightly packed flowers to passing insects for pollination. The close packing of the flowers seems optimise the number of flowers over a given surface area - all interlocking with not an air gap to see.
The sharp spines on both flower heads and stem protect the flower from grazing and the hollow stems given strength but with economy of structure.
After pollination, the seed heads act as shakers and rattles for dispersing the seed ( if the flocks of goldfinches don't get there first).
On dewy autumn mornings, intricately worked spiders' webs are clearly visible, the spiny framework of the flower heads providing an ideal support over which to drape over the sticky snares.

In the aftermath of summer

After the summer hay cut, the meadows quickly green up and begin to grow again - putting on 'aftermath' growth.
In most years, it helps site condition to late summer or autumn sheep graze this aftermath.
The timing of  grazing varies from site to site and season to season, but generally the first meadow to be aftermath grazed is Fox Fritillary meadow.  The meadow is on relatively fertile floodplain alluvial soils and so quickly 'springs' back into growth after the haysling.
We delivered a flock of SWT Hebridean sheep to this meadow in mid August.  At first their task looked like a daunting one, but they soon set about nibbling back and revealing the fence lines, as well as tackling the tall herbs along the edge of the ditch and any docks or thistles that try to creep into the sward.
The sheep do an excellent job in encouraging the grass to 'tiller', which tightens the sward and helps prevent bare patches where undesirable  plants like ragwort, creeping and spear thistle might otherwise establish.
Although the sheep do generate a certain amount of nutrients as dung, the overall effect of aftermath grazing is a second harvest of the meadow. There is net movement of nutrients off the meadow in the form of nutrients that have been assimilated into the fabric of the sheep -  so when the sheep leave the meadows so do the nutrients!
The sheep dung is also a useful source of organic matter and can  be important for soil and dung invertebrates.
The grazing means that the sward is low at the beginning of the next growing season. This tends to favour wildflowers that are intolerant of shading and competition from taller grasses. The snake's head fritillary pushes up its delicate leaves before the taller grasses get going, giving it a head start in the photosynthesising stakes. Low growing plants like adder's tongue, bugle and cowslip which would soon be engulfed by large grasses also take advantage of this early window.

Seeking a refuge

Hay-cutting is a very necessary and important part of the management of the meadow reserves - but from the perspective of a grassland insect, the hay cut must be a very dramatic change of scene!

Obviously we need to cut the hay to maintain the wildflower diversity of the meadows on which the insects in part depend, but we can reduce the impact by leaving uncut refuges for insects, particularly pollinators like bees.

 

On each of the hay meadows, we leave an uncut refuge strip of about 5-10m wide.  Aftermath grazing by the sheep helps trim these uncut areas up later in the year, but we also vary the  location of the strip each year to prevent scrub invading the  blackthorn is particularly quick to silently creep into the meadow
 when the cutter or sheep have turned their back!

The refuge strips also provide a graded and gentle edge to the meadow, which adds structural diversity and increases the range of habitat niches.


Hopefully many species benefit from these strips, though I think the field vole may question their value when the barn owl hovers overhead finding the strips very convenient quartering!

 

 

On bale

What a contrast the weather has been this year compared to last for haymaking.
A wet summer really hampered the 'haysling' last year, whereas this year a run of fine, dry weather has allowed the process to go relatively smoothly with our hay harvest from the meadows safely cut, baled and stored by the end of last week. My thanks to the great team who worked so hard to make it all happen.
There was even time to step back and admire our hard work and I could not resist this picture of Ellie, triumphant on bales at Martins' meadows  or to put it another way - she is 'out on bale for good behaviour!'

Docks (or Rumex) often go unnoticed as a component of meadow flora. Some species like curled dock (Rumex crispus) and broad-leaved dock (Rumex obtusifolius) are considered undesirable in all but the edge of meadows as they can be indicators of poor sward condition and less than ideal management – they readily colonise areas of bare ground created by over-grazing or compaction and reduce the quality of hay.

Wood dock (Rumex sanguineus) as the name suggests, can often be found at the edge of meadows growing in the shade of hedgerows

Common sorrel (Rumex acetosa) is the most typical meadow dock and is very much part of the open hay sward. Its diminutive cousin, sheep’s sorrel (Rumex acetosella) occurs on drought prone grasslands and heathlands.

At first glance, docks are rather too green or brown to readily catch the eye, but at certain times of year and when looked at in close-up, they really are quite fascinating.

As the seeds ripen they slowly flush from green to red to a rich burnt umber – almost giving the appearance of going rusty. The ‘red seed ’phase is particularly obvious in common sorrel and sheep’s sorrel, both of which can turn a meadow or heathland scarlet in early summer. The seeds of common sorrel are almost translucent hanging like strings of lanterns amongst the grass.

Each species of dock has unique shape and form of fruit. When looked at closely through a lens the ‘architecture’ of the fruit is astonishingly intricate. Some resemble shield bugs or trilobites whilst others look like a green and red fried egg on a string!

 

So next time you see a dock - take a moment to 'ruminate' on Rumex!

 

Rattling around

Yellow rattle or hay rattle - Rhinanthus minor is one of the most intriguing plants of hay meadows. It is semi-parasitic on the roots of grasses and where it is abundant it can appreciably suppress grass growth. For this reason, in the past when productivity of hay meadows was so important, yellow rattle was not favoured as it reduced hay yield.

Unusually for a grassland plant, it is an annual – totally dependent on setting seed each year to survive. It quickly sets masses of seed in June – seemingly perfectly timed to precede the hay cut! 

The seed is held in the ‘balloon’ like sepals and as these dry out and the seed ripens, so the cases ‘rattle’ and the seed is shaken out in the breeze.  Hay-turning also helps scatter and spread the seed. 

Yellow rattle’s life style is well adapted to the hay meadow yearly cycle – so conserving hay meadows is key to this plant’s survival.

The keys to the future?

With the unwelcome arrival of ash die-back last year, it is with some apprehension that I have been watching the unfurling of the hedgerow ashes at the meadows. So far, so good - the fresh green leaves seem to be  emerging from the dark buds with their usual grace.  However, it is really too early to tell and I will be keeping a watchful eye in coming months and years.

An unexpected benefit of this need for careful observation, is that it has encouraged me to look much more closely at a tree which is so familiar I often hardly give it a second thought - except to ponder whether we are in for a 'splash or a soak' depending on whether the ash or the oak comes into leaf first and whether it will be a good or bad hay year! (The spring has been so late and condensed this year the two trees seem to be pretty much neck and neck at the moment).

I am not sure I have ever before paused to look so closely at the ash and to catch a photograph of it just as the ash keys are beginning to form. I was really struck by the almost translucent 'toffee apple' brown of the keys, contrasting dramatically with dark bud scales and vibrant new green leaves.

Let's hope that somewhere in the many bunches of ash keys now forming -  there is some natural resistance to ash die-back - that at least some of the keys will unlock a future for the ash.