Mosses and lichens are often overlooked as part of the woodland flora.  The same is true in towns and cities.  They can be found on the trunks of trees, on walls and rooftops.  They are epiphytes, that is,  plants which grow on the surface of another plant. They derive moisture and nutrients from the air, rain, and debris that is deposited on and around them. They cling to these surfaces, come rain or shine.  Climate change and pollution affects these small, often unnoticed plants in both woodland and urban settings.    As global temperatures continue to rise, many places face extremes of temperature.   Heat waves are becoming more common, as we have recently experienced.  Some 1500+ heat-associated deaths were recorded in England during the heat waves of  last summer [2025].    The highest rates were among elderly individuals [aged 85+] with the impacts felt particularly in care homes and hospitals.   London and the East of England recorded the highest number of heat-associated fatalities. Cities and urban environments often face the brunt of these climate extremes.  The concrete, brick and tarmac of cities absorb and hold onto the sun’s energy creating ‘urban heat islands’. Urban temperatures are often several degrees higher than surrounding rural areas. Urban temperatures have soared in recent times, for example in New Delhi, a record high of 126.1oF (52.3oC) was recorded. Such temperatures claim lives. This year parts of Europe have recorded temperatures of 40oC. Urban trees suffer in this heat as do their epiphytic flora.  The mosses and lichens in our cities fall into this category.  Researchers at Leiden University have investigated the effect of changing temperatures on the mosses and lichens growing on Lime (Linden) trees in Dutch cities (Amsterdam, Leiden, and Rotterdam).  They sampled numerous sites, measuring the microclimate for each tree and recording the species present.  They found, perhaps unsurprisingly, that urban heat islands were reshaping the moss and lichen communities.  Species that were adapted to drier, brighter and nitrogen-rich environments were favoured; for example, a type of wreath lichen [Phaeophyscia orbicularis]. When wetted this turns from a grey / brown colour to green, and its symbiotic green algae can begin to photosynthesise producing sugars. Those species that were associated with moister and shady conditions were found to be ‘losing out’.  They noted that the larger lime trees supported more diverse epiphyte communities; this might be associated with the older bark offering more micro-habitats for the mosses and lichens to ‘gain a foothold’.   [caption id="attachment_41261" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Lichens on an old stone wall.[/caption] The changing climate and urban heat islands are altering the species that can survive in our towns and cities, on trees and artificial surfaces.

The yew is one of our native conifers, the others are the Scots Pine and Juniper.  The yew is exceptional in terms of its longevity.  The life span of the tree may run into the thousands of years, but more typically a tree may live for 1500 years.  Somewhat unusual features of the Yew are that   it is dioecious. That is, there are separate male and female trees.  This promotes cross fertilisation, increasing genetic diversity. when it sets seed, they are not in the typical conifer cone. They form in a fleshy red aril - a berry-like structure The yew is a medium sized conifer, that may reach a height of some 20 metres.  It has dark green needle-like leaves, which are somewhat flattened (see image).  The bark has a red / brown colour, which has an increasingly flaky appearance as the tree ages.  Again as the trees mature they may develop hollow trunks and splinter apart to form multiple stems.  This seems to be a regenerative strategy. This is particularly apparent in the Fortingall Yew, which is indeed is a very ancient tree, possibly the same age as Stonehenge! [caption id="attachment_43351" align="aligncenter" width="700"] Yew in a woodland setting[/caption] The Yew is distributed across the UK but is found more often in Southern and Central England, where it is associated with well drained soils seated on chalk and limestone.  It is also to be found in managed situations, ranging from church yards, large estates and parklands, to hedgerows in urban gardens.  In some places, the trees are managed to form topiary.     Yew trees can thrive in woodlands settings, though its dense evergreen canopy can create deep shade at ground level.  As the light intensity is reduced, this can reduce the diversity of the ground flora.  However, the trees offers shelter in the winter months to various birds (such as the Chaffinch, Robin, and Wren) and mammals.  Most of the tree is toxic, the only edible part is the red aril that surrounds the seeds.   The seeds contain high concentrations of taxine alkaloids, which if ingested interfere with the electrical signals in the heart.  In recent years, yew trees have been planted in large numbers in China to provide material for the extraction of one of its toxic chemicals for the anti-cancer drug taxol/paclitaxel. This drug acts by interfering with the division of cancer cells.  However, some birds can eat the aril and the seed, the seed then passes through the gut undigested.  This aids the dispersal of the seeds over a significant area  The toxicity of the tree is important in that it protects against grazing by deer etc.  Yew wood is noted for its red/brown colour and its durability.  In the past, it was greatly valued in the making of long bows due to its flexibility and strength.  The rich colour and grain of the wood mean that is used to make veneers and in furniture making.  As the wood is hard and dense, it is favoured by woodturners to create bowls and lamp bases.  The wood is also used in the making of violins and other musical instruments.  Yew wood is remarkably resistant to decay / rot, which makes it particularly suitable for outdoor furniture.  However, as the tree is slowing growing and often ‘twisted’ and/or knotted, it is difficult to obtain large planks of the wood in any quantity. For many centuries, Yew has been associated with churchyards and this is where many ancient yews are to be found.  In a Christian context, the yew represents eternal life and resurrection. Its evergreen nature being symbolic of eternal life. Some yews may predate the building of the churches, pagan tradition associated the tree with winter festivals and the cycle of life.  Further details of the association of Yew with religion and folklore, see https://www.whitedragon.org.uk/articles/yew.htm

My own experience of David Hockney was an extraordinary set of bright images of trees and woodland at an exhibition in Saltaire in West Yorkshire. His death marks the passing of one of Britain's greatest artists. Many will remember him for his Californian swimming pools, his portraits and his restless experimentation with new technology. Yet some of his most original and affecting work came from a much simpler source: trees. In the last two decades of his life, Hockney became fascinated by the woods and forests of northern England. Again and again he returned to the same stretches of woodland in the Yorkshire Wolds, painting them through winter, spring, summer and autumn. Like a naturalist studying a favourite species, he observed every change in colour, structure and light. The centre of this obsession was a small area of woodland near the village of Warter in East Yorkshire. Here he found the subject that would occupy him for years. The trees themselves were not particularly famous or ancient. They were ordinary beeches, ashes, sycamores and hawthorns growing beside country roads and in modest woods. Yet Hockney saw something extraordinary in them. Their branches formed intricate patterns; their colours shifted with every season; their appearance changed from hour to hour as the light moved across them. His masterpiece Bigger Trees Near Warter was the culmination of this fascination. Stretching more than fifty feet across, it transformed a relatively unremarkable patch of Yorkshire woodland into one of the most ambitious landscape paintings produced in Britain for generations. The work depicts trees in winter, stripped of their leaves. Without foliage to distract the eye, the viewer is drawn into a maze of branches and trunks. Hockney turns the woodland into something almost architectural, a vast structure built from living wood. What distinguished Hockney's woodland paintings was his refusal to treat trees as background scenery. In much traditional landscape art, trees frame a view or provide decoration. For Hockney they were the main event. He painted individual trunks, tangled roots, branches reaching skywards and the spaces between them. He once remarked that trees are among the most complex things we ever look at, yet most people hardly notice them. His favourite location became the lanes around Warter, Garrowby and the nearby woods of the Yorkshire Wolds. These landscapes appear repeatedly in works such as The Tunnel, October-November, Woldgate Woods and May Blossom on the Roman Road. The same roads and woodland rides recur year after year, allowing viewers to witness the changing seasons almost as if they were watching a film. In later life Hockney found a new woodland inspiration in Normandy. There he rented a farmhouse surrounded by trees and produced hundreds of paintings and iPad drawings recording the arrival of spring. Blossom erupted across orchards and woodland edges. Fresh leaves appeared almost overnight. His celebrated series A Year in Normandy captures the seasonal cycle of a landscape seen with extraordinary attentiveness and joy. Hockney's paintings remind us that forests are not static places. They are constantly changing communities of light, colour and growth. He showed that a roadside copse in Yorkshire could be as worthy of artistic attention as the Alps or the Grand Canyon. More than perhaps any modern artist, he taught us to look carefully at trees. That may prove his most enduring legacy. Long after the swimming pools fade from memory, the woods of Yorkshire and Normandy will remain alive in his paintings: places where he discovered wonder in every branch and every leaf. The death of David Hockney marks the passing of one of Britain's greatest artists. Many will remember him for his Californian swimming pools, his portraits and his restless experimentation with new technology. Yet some of his most original and affecting work came from a much simpler source: trees. In the last two decades of his life, Hockney became fascinated by the woods and forests of northern England. Again and again he returned to the same stretches of woodland in the Yorkshire Wolds, painting them through winter, spring, summer and autumn. Like a naturalist studying a favourite species, he observed every change in colour, structure and light. The centre of this obsession was a small area of woodland near the village of Warter in East Yorkshire. Here he found the subject that would occupy him for years. The trees themselves were not particularly famous or ancient. They were ordinary beeches, ashes, sycamores and hawthorns growing beside country roads and in modest woods. Yet Hockney saw something extraordinary in them. Their branches formed intricate patterns; their colours shifted with every season; their appearance changed from hour to hour as the light moved across them. His masterpiece Bigger Trees Near Warter was the culmination of this fascination. Stretching more than fifty feet across, it transformed a relatively unremarkable patch of Yorkshire woodland into one of the most ambitious landscape paintings produced in Britain for generations. The work depicts trees in winter, stripped of their leaves. Without foliage to distract the eye, the viewer is drawn into a maze of branches and trunks. Hockney turns the woodland into something almost architectural, a vast structure built from living wood. What distinguished Hockney's woodland paintings was his refusal to treat trees as background scenery. In much traditional landscape art, trees frame a view or provide decoration. For Hockney they were the main event. He painted individual trunks, tangled roots, branches reaching skywards and the spaces between them. He once remarked that trees are among the most complex things we ever look at, yet most people hardly notice them. His favourite location became the lanes around Warter, Garrowby and the nearby woods of the Yorkshire Wolds. These landscapes appear repeatedly in works such as The Tunnel, October-November, Woldgate Woods and May Blossom on the Roman Road. The same roads and woodland rides recur year after year, allowing viewers to witness the changing seasons almost as if they were watching a film.   In later life Hockney found a new woodland inspiration in Normandy. There he rented a farmhouse surrounded by trees and produced hundreds of paintings and iPad drawings recording the arrival of spring. Blossom erupted across orchards and woodland edges. Fresh leaves appeared almost overnight. His celebrated series A Year in Normandy captures the seasonal cycle of a landscape seen with extraordinary attentiveness and joy. Hockney's paintings remind us that forests are not static places. They are constantly changing communities of light, colour and growth. He showed that a roadside copse in Yorkshire could be as worthy of artistic attention as the Alps or the Grand Canyon. More than perhaps any modern artist, he taught us to look carefully at trees. That may prove his most enduring legacy. Long after the swimming pools fade from memory, the woods of Yorkshire and Normandy will remain alive in his paintings: places where he discovered wonder in every branch and every leaf.

Last year was not a good year for bumblebees.   Despite the warmth and sunny days of late Spring and Summer, they did not fare well.  Overall, numbers dropped by about a fifth.  We know this thanks to the efforts of the Bumblebee Conservation Trust.  The trust runs a nationwide bee walk scheme each year.  This involves hundreds of trained volunteers, walking across a thousand plus fixed routes, counting the bumblebees that they see.  This enables the Trust to calculate the number of bumblebees observed for each kilometre walked. This gives a measure of the health of bumblebee populations. Last year’s walks indicated ‘historic lows’ for 15 of our native species of bumblebee.  Red tailed bumblebees were particularly affected. After a relatively mild winter, many queen bumblebees emerged early from hibernation.  They then met with the rain and cold of early Spring. Though a bumblebee can cope to some degree with cold - by shivering to generate heat, the rain left them unable to forage in search of pollen and nectar.  Queen bumblebees have to establish a colony singlehandedly.  They may lay eggs, but if they remain within the nest to keep the larvae warm then they starve.  If they leave to find food then the larvae die in the cold.   So the weather is critical to the establishment and success of a colony.  The first brood of eggs need to be warmed by the queen, but she needs to be able to leave to feed herself and collect food for the growing larvae.  Last year, the establishment of colonies and rearing of the first generation of worker bumblebees was limited.  Indeed, it was estimated that the worker population in June fell by perhaps 50% for some species. [caption id="attachment_43455" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Coming into land[/caption] Sadly, the disappointing numbers for 2024 is part of a long term decline in bumblebee numbers, with some species become extinct (either locally or nationally).  This decline is associated with  Changing climate.  With global warming, we are experiencing warmer, wetter winters and hotter, drier summers, coupled with extreme weather events.  Bumblebee nests can be flooded by heavy rain. Habitat fragmentation.  Many woods and wild flower meadows have been lost over the decades, so that bumblebees (and other animals) find it difficult to move around in the disconnected landscape. Biological corridors have been lost.  Local populations can become inbred, which leads to a loss of genetic variation.  Flower-rich meadows which offered pollen and nectar are now a rarity.  Even brownfield sites can offer food for bumblebees - from the ‘weeds’ growing in them. The expansion of agriculture, towns and motorways. The countryside has been gradually devoured by the expansion of agriculture, towns and transport routes. These have contributed to the loss of natural ecosystems, like the meadows mentioned above, and also hedgerows. Modern agriculture also makes considerable use of many pesticides and herbicides.  The neonicotinoids [neonics] were used extensively as seed dressings for crops, such as oil seed rape and maize.  Even when exposed to very low concentrations of these chemicals, bees and bumblebees suffered. More recently it has been demonstrated that sulfoxaflor, another pesticide affects bumblebees.  It can reduce the number of workers and queens produced by a colony by 50%. [caption id="attachment_43460" align="aligncenter" width="675"] buff tailed bumblebee[/caption] As ever, local bumblebee populations can be helped by ensuring that gardens have a wide diversity of nectar-rich flowers, plus “No mow May” also has a positive impact.  

One of the simple pleasures of camping in our woodland is cooking outdoors. It doesn't have to be complicated or expensive either. We use an EcoZoom stove, which is incredibly easy to light and cook on - all it needs is a handful of small branches gathered from the forest floor for fuel. When camping, I'm always on the lookout for one-pot recipes. They're easy to prepare, minimise washing up, and allow you to spend more time relaxing and enjoying your surroundings. To make things even simpler, I mix all the herbs and spices together at home before we leave, then just pack the remaining ingredients to prepare on site. For this meal, all we needed was a chopping board, a sharp knife, a wooden spoon, and a few bowls and plates. As the evening drew in and the campfire crackled nearby, we tucked into this smoky sausage & black bean chilli. Rich, warming and packed with flavour, it was the perfect woodland supper – made even better with a couple of cold beers and good company around the fire. If you're looking for an easy, satisfying meal for your next woodland camping trip, give this recipe a try. Ingredients 2 tbsp vegetable oil 8 sausages of your choice – we used chicken chipolatas  1 large onion (we used red), finely chopped, 2 peppers, sliced 3 garlic cloves crushed, 1 tbsp smoked paprika, 1 tsp ground coriander, 1 tsp ground cumin, 1 heaped tbsp chipotle paste (optional)herbs, spices, woodland fuel 400g chopped tomatoes, 2 tbsp ketchup 400g can black beans drained handful of coriander leaves picked, grated cheddar, natural yogurt or soured cream, and tortilla chips, to serve Steps Heat half of the oil in a large pan over a medium heat. Add the sausages and cook for 12–15 minutes, turning regularly until browned all over and cooked through. Transfer to a plate and set aside. Add the remaining oil to the pan, then stir in the onion and peppers. Cook over a low heat for around 10 minutes, stirring frequently, until the vegetables have softened. Add the garlic, spices and chipotle paste (if using), and cook for a further minute until fragrant. Pour in the tomatoes, one tin of water, the ketchup and a little seasoning. Bring to a gentle simmer, then cook for 20 minutes, partially covered with a lid or loosely covered with foil. Stir occasionally and add a splash of water if the sauce becomes too thick. Slice the cooked sausages into thick rounds and return them to the pan along with the beans. Cook for a few more minutes until everything is heated through. Serve in bowls, topped with fresh coriander, grated cheese and a spoonful of yogurt or soured cream, if desired. Enjoy with tortilla chips for dipping, sour cream, avocado or grated cheese. The ingredients.

We can communicate in many ways, other animals may  message each by vocalising or gesturing.  Some release air-borne chemicals (pheromones) to attract a mate.  Plants also communicate by chemical signals that they release into the environment. The most obvious example is the release of scents to attract pollinators.   These floral scents are usually oils, made from volatile organic compounds (VOCs).  VOCs are carbon based compounds, such as the terpenes. They usually have a strong and pleasant odour.  They form partt of the scent of many plants, for example, honeysuckle, roses, jasmine, lilac, and mock orange.  Different plants produce different scents.  These different chemical signatures help pollinators identify particular species, and locate the nectar on offer. The VOCs produced by ripe fruit help attract animals that assist in seed dispersal. [caption id="attachment_43370" align="aligncenter" width="675"] Buff tailed bumblebee visiting a foxglove[/caption] VOCs are also produced by leaves when plants are under attack.  These may deter the attacking organism directly, e.g. caterpillars, or they may attract an organism that predates upon the herbivore. When pollen beetles feed on oil seed rape, the plants release VOCs which attract the attention of insects (a type of wasp). The wasps lay their eggs in the larvae of the pollen beetles. The pollen beetle larvae are then ‘eaten alive’, by the developing wasp larvae.  Sometimes, VOCs are produced by stressed or attacked plants,  these VOCs ‘warn’ nearby plants of the same species. These plants can then activate their defences before they are attacked. This helps ensure the survival of some of the population. Recently, it has been suggested that mycorrhizal systems act as a physical and chemical ‘means of communication’ between the trees in a woodland, in what has been termed the ‘wood wide web’. The term was coined by Dr. Suzanne Simard, a forest ecologist at the University of British Columbia to describe the complex relationships between fungi and plants in woodland ecosystems.  Interestingly, VOCs can influence air quality and atmospheric processes.  In a woodland,  the scent of pine or other conifers may permeate the air.  Pines release volatile compounds, such as alpha-pinene.  Recent research has established that these volatile compounds / vapours are not only responsible for the characteristic scent, but also contribute to the formation of aerosols in the atmosphere* both in and around such woodlands and forests.  In the presence of sunlight, VOCs can interact with the gas nitric oxide to form ground level ozone, which contributes to smog formation. Forests can be a significant source of VOC emissions. The production of VOCs is affected by environmental  conditions.  VOCs release generally goes up with an increase in temperature, as the plants metabolism increase.  An increase in temperature also helps in the evaporation / volatilisation of plant oils and scents. Water availability and light intensity also affect VOC release.  * An aerosol is a ‘mixture’ of very small particles (solid or liquid) in air; other examples of aerosols include mist, cigarette smoke, or car exhaust fumes Addendum : Heavier and far rarer VOCs are the sesquiterpenes, larger molecules that trees in the Amazon release when exposed to drought.  These reactive molecules help form tiny particles that seed clouds and scatter sunlight. These emissions could change the weather and climate over the whole region.  For full details see : https://www.earth.com/news/amazon-trees-emitted-never-before-seen-chemicals-during-drought/