30 Days Wild - Day 16 - An Evening Visit to Elmdon Nature Park

So my plan more-or-less came together. I left work promptly and scuttled off the station where I picked up the shuttle bus to my hotel, the Birmingham Airport Holiday Inn. Wanting to find somewhere to explore for 30 Days Wild, I had checked the map a few days previously and discovered Solihull Council's Elmdon Nature Park.

Tuesday Evening, June 16

The park is just across the dual carriage way from the hotel. I crossed the iron bridge, passed the wonderfully eccentric old lodge and followed a narrow path through a strip of woodland. I came out into glorious meadow land full of long grass and buttercups.

Buttercup meadow.

I followed the path and a small road past the Grange, swung left onto a little road and then walked through the church yard of St Nicholas.

St Nicholas.

On the other side of the church there is a car park, then an enormous sweep of classic park land full of winding paths and tall trees.  Before World War II, this was the grounds of Elmdon Hall. Now it's a public park.

Monkey puzzle tree.

It was great to see that, where a tree had fallen, that it had been left in place and a group of teenagers were enjoying climbing on it. I followed the paths to the lake and was amazed by its size. The first water bird I saw was a moorhen collecting twigs from a tree.

Moorhen collecting twigs.

Further down, there was a clamour from ducks, swans and geese as a youngster fed them scraps.

Mute swan on the lake.

Further still, a mum was telling her young son to walk quietly as they might see some baby ducks and geese. The fluffy goslings were tucked up on a far bank with the adults. Then I followed a boardwalk through wildflowers and admired the buttercups under the horse chestnut.

Red horse chestnut and buttercups.

Climbing the open grassland, I looked back and, for the first time, saw the huge Land Rover works, previously well hidden by the tall trees.

Land Rover works.

Coming nearly full circle, just below the church there is a huge chestnut tree that must already have been well grown when Elizabeth the First was queen.

500-year old Chestnut tree.

I noticed that time was running short, so I would have to leave the walled garden and nature reserve  for another day. On the way back, the buttercup fields were full of rabbits and the pale, wild roses seemed to sing out of the fading light.

Wild roses and buttercups.

Then back to Marcos in the hotel for my evening meal. I was certainly ready for it after all that walking!

30 Days Wild - Days 7 to 12 - Travelling

I'm continuing with 30 days wild. My first post was about me squeezing time out of a very busy week to see wildlife that had squeezed itself into our lives.  I'm juggling my time between Uckfield and Birmingham but my journey is nothing compared to that of some creatures, which travel enormous distances.



Sunday, June 7th

A week into 30 days wild, I finally some quality time in our garden. As I was trimming back the foliage threatening to overwhelm our windows I loved hearing the bees buzzing and the church bells ringing.

Tree bumblebee on ceanothus.

Many of the bees were tree bumblebees. BWARS tells us that these bees were first recorded in Britain in 2001. Since them they have travelled throughout Britain.

Monday, June 8th

I found a nest and attentive woodpigeon well camouflaged by the shadows of our robinia tree.

A homely woodpigeon with its nest hidden amongst exotic robinia flowers.

Tuesday, June 9th

The river Uck runs alongside our little station. Just before I got on the train, I enjoyed a serene moment watching the ducks.  I had a chat with a fellow commuter who had just been watching a pair of grey wagtails working their way along a ledge near the edge of the platform. We discussed the lack of insects this year and how some exotic ducks have joined forces with our local mallards.

Ducks on the Uck.

Most of the time, I was busy reading documents on my laptop but I was able to glance out of the window and enjoy nature as I travelled. As we pulled into Buxted, I spotted a herd of fallow deer. A carpet of wild flowers was an unexpected treat at Milton Keynes.

Carpet of wild flowers seen from train window at Milton Keynes.

Later, when I looked out of the window of my Birmingham hotel room, I was astounded to see house martins darting around almost at eye level. These little birds will have travelled from Africa and are nesting under the eves of the hotel.

Wednesday, June 10th

On Wednesday morning I got up early and dropped my laptop off in the office and settled down by a nearby pond to watch this little slice of nature wake up.

Just a few steps but a world away from the office.

The first birds I saw were a moorhen and two chicks. Then a coot, dabbling under the surface for its waterweed breakfast.

Rushes provide perfect cover for coots and other birds.

As a female tufted duck ventured across the pond a furious coot appeared out of nowhere. Maybe it was defending a nest?  As I returned to the office, a rabbit lolloped into the bushes.

Thursday, June 11th

On the way out of the Arden, I spotted one of the house martins zoom into a nest made from a thousand beakfulls of mud. I stacked my baggage by the kerb and watched them for a while. As passenger jets roared into the air behind them, about half a dozen of these African visitors seemed to dance in the air by the hotel.

Arrivals.



Departures.

 

Friday, June 12th

Today's wildlife moment was sad but gave me a chance to get close to something lovely. A blackbird had hit one of our windows and died. I was able to examine his subtly coloured plumage and vivid yellow beak. There was a perfect graduation from the tiny soft feathers on his back to the long flight feathers on the tips of his wings.


Blackbird wing.

Of course, my drawing doesn't do the blackbird justice but spending time trying to copy the shapes of the feathers gave me time to appreciate just how lovely this fallen angel was and how perfectly birds have evolved for flying.

So the last few days have been about appreciating how good wild creatures are at travelling. They may be tiny compared to our trains and jets but they are never stopped by a signal failure or lost baggage.