Tag Archives: #Cumbria

The Northern Lights

The Aurora Borealis, commonly known as the Northern Lights, must rank amongst one of nature’s most breathtaking spectacles. These shimmering curtains of light, dancing across our night skies, casting ethereal ribbons of green, purple and red, have inspired awe, myths, and scientific curiosity for centuries.

The Duties of a Gamekeeper: January, the Hard Month

The month of January, in the heart of winter when claws of ice, wind and rain grip the British countryside, can prove hard for those that work outdoors, it is also a pivotal time when decisions must be made and tallies taken, especially for our 3000+ gamekeepers.

The Hawthorn

The Hawthorn, Crataegus monogyna, also known as Quickthorn, Whitethorn, or the May tree, is one of the most common small trees, (or large shrubs, depending on how you look at it), to be found in the British isles. Their scientific name comes from the Greek word for ‘strength’; Crataegus, and monogyna comes from mono, meaningContinue reading “The Hawthorn”

Northern Shores: Bladderwrack

Bladder wrack, Fucus vesiculosus, is a familiar sight to anyone who has wandered our coasts, a member of the brown algae family, it is easily identified by its flattened, leathery fronds that branch repeatedly in a dichotomous pattern, splitting evenly into two like a fork.

Lurking in the Canal; Perch, the Highly Adaptable Piscine Predator

The European perch, Perca fluviatilis, is a highly adaptable predatory freshwater fish native to the British isles. It is found in a wide variety of habitats from ponds and lakes to brooks and rivers but has found a particularly thriving niche in our man-made canals.

Common Ivy

Common ivy, scientifically known as Hedera helix, is an evergreen climbing plant native to, and ubiquitous throughout the British Isles, excepting the far north and a few spots like the Isle of Man.

Gallinago the Bog Drummer

If you’ve ever stood in the reeds of Chat Moss, the wet sheep-pastures of the Ribble estuary, the peat-bogs of Bowland or the rushy fields around Martin Mere on a still April evening, you might have heard a weird, somewhat spooky, sound that you couldn’t quite put your finger on; a bleating, almost goat-like humming that seemed to come from the sky itself, and you may have wondered what made it.