Otter in the river Wear at Durham city

 

Caught a brief glimpse of an otter fishing in the river Wear, just upstream from Prebends' bridge in Durham city this morning. Only had my phone with me for a video, but lovely to see. I've watched them before along this stretch of river, between Prebends' and Elvet bridges. Also little grebes, goosanders, kingfishers, herons and cormorants are frequent visitors to the river here, despite the presence of rowers.

The end of an epic journey

 We found this dead salmon, on Christmas Eve, in Waskerley beck, a tributory of the river Wear at Wolsingham in Weardale. It had evidently swum upriver from the sea to spawn in shallow gravels and died of exhaustion, old age or disease - or perhaps from all three causes. Patches of fungal disease are clearly evident on its scales. Few salmon make it back to sea after they have spawned.

It would have begun life in the river as an egg, made its way downstream to the North Sea, then spent up to four years in  the sea before returning to its home river to spawn. The end of an epic journey.

Kingfisher on the river Wear in Durham city

 

The river Wear begins its great loop around Durham cathedral peninsula here, at Elvet bridge. It’s always a busy spot. Aside from the rowing crews and scullers training for regattas, there are tourists in hired rowing boats and a constant passage of joggers, cyclists and walkers along the riverbank footpath. Mostly busy people on their way to somewhere, but it’s often a good place to just stand and stare: there can be interesting birds here. In winter there were goosanders fishing. In early spring little grebes took up residence for a while: energetic divers that we timed submerged for twenty seconds, leaving us guessing where they might reappear, sometimes popping up just a few feet away from the bank.  

The footpath was busy today. As I reached a narrow, elevated section of the path I moved over against the wall to make way for a rowing coach, balanced precariously on his bike as he chased his novice crew and bellowed encouragement from the bank. While he passed I glanced over the wall, towards the river and there was a kingfisher, perched on an overhanging willow. A perfect spot for fishing, where the water is clear, where sunlight glints on silver scales of fish that congregate in the warm shallows.

We stared at each other for what can only have been a few seconds, but these birds seem to concentrate surrounding energy and release it in a mesmerising azure and orange spark, an electric shock of plumage that makes time stand still. Totally unexpected, completely captivating: a gift of a bird.

And then it was gone, streaking off upriver, skimming the water, streaking past the oarsman and disappearing under Elvet bridge. King of the river.

 

Mayfly nymphs from the river Wear

Some yellow May dun mayfly nymphs, from the river Wear downstream from Wolsingham. The upper reaches of the river are full of these, clinging on to the underside of every rock pulled out of the water. They are one of the food items that dippers catch, when they walk underwater, over the river bed, and flip stones with their beaks in search of prey. 

In the image above you can clearly see the feathery abdominal gills, that beat constantly and absorb dissolved oxygen from the water,

 

Monkey flowers: summer opportunists when river water levels fall

In summer, when the water level in the upper reaches of the river Wear drops, its gravelly banks are colonised by a natural rock garden of plants. This year, after a long dry spell, its flora is looking particularly attractive. Many of the plants are garden escapes, most likely from garden refuse swept down the river from upstream. 

The most eye-catching are monkey flowers, whose creeping stems become woven into the coarse gravel and resist the flow of the current when the river rises again. The most beautiful is the coppery monkey flower Mimulus x burnetii, a sterile hybrid between Mimulus guttatus and M. cupreus, both from western North America.

It isn't very common because it does not produce seeds and only spreads from vegetative fragments, but wherever it does appear its warm coppery tones make it very conspicuous. 

This is one of the parents, monkey flower Mimulus guttatus, which does set seeds and is a colourful feature of the river gravels all along the upper reaches of the river Wear.

Both plants are very easy to propagate - just a short length of the creeping stem with a leaf node will produce new roots and shoots very quickly.

Easter Sunday walk along the river Wear

Probably the best weather that I can ever remember for an Easter Sunday. We took a walk along the south side of the river Wear, between Wolsingham and Black Banks plantation at Harperley.

Reassuring to find that the weird flower spikes of toothwort Lathraea squamaria were coming up again under the old coppiced hazels, where we've known them for nearly 40 years.

There's something vaguely reptilian about these parasitic flowering plants that siphon off all their nutrients from the roots of hazel.

You can read more about the strange physiology and folklore of toothwort by clicking here.

This is the plasmodial stage of the slime mould Reticularia lycoperdon [recently renamed Enteridium lycoperdon], probably only about a day away from turning into the sporulating stage. In the plasmodial stage it creeps over the alder tree trunk surface, digesting bacteria, then it forms a parchment-like skin (for pictures click here) enclosing countless dark brown spores. When the skin ruptures they are dispersed on the wind, then germinate into minute amoeba-like organisms that eventually aggregate back into this creeping plasmodial stage, which is most often seen in spring.

I found my first wild primrose of the season growing at the base of an ash tree, and ....

... hundreds of butterbur flower spikes had appeared along the riverbank in the last week.

Elm flowers. A mature elm tree in full bloom was a wonderful sight, with its crown a haze of purple, but it's one we are unlikely to see again, thanks to Dutch elm disease. Young elm trees that have regenerated from the roots of dead stumps are common enough though.

The beautiful juvenile female cones of larch, waiting to be pollinated.

Artefacts of autumn: a hazel nut neatly split in two by a grey squirrel and the stone of a fruit (wild arum?) nibbled by a field mouse.

A rather tatty peacock that had safely made it through the winter and was sunbathing on an old plastic bag.

A pair of goosander on the river. Their behaviour changes in spring. A few weeks ago they would have flown before I could get close but once they are paired up and have identified a hollow tree to nest in they are reluctant to leave their territory.

A fantastic carpet of wild garlic leaves beside the footpath, that will become a sea of white in a few days' time when the flowers open.

Those trees at the top of the bank host a rookery, so we were accompanied by their cawing along this stretch of the walk.

Right time, right place, wrong gear ...

A recent photograph on Flickr by Bob the Bolder showed a salmon leaping the wear on the River Wear just below Durham cathedral in mid-August, which is early for these fish to start moving up river to spawn. 


One October afternoon five years ago I happened to be walking past Spurleswood beck in Hamsterley forest in Weardale just at the time when salmon were trying to leap the waterfall there. We watched for half an hour while fish after fish hurled itself into the torrent but none made it to the top. Conditions were probably close to perfect for the fish, with the beck in spate and a deep plunge pool below the waterfall where the upwelling water would have given the fish extra impetus, so maybe some made it after we left. 

It's hard to be sure whether these were sea trout or salmon but judging from the indentation in the tail fin I think they were salmon. Sea trout tend to have a straight trailing edge to the tail fin.

I didn't have any decent photographic gear with me when I took these bu,t judging by Bob the Bolder's photo, now is the time to plan for a return visit............

St.John's Chapel, Weardale

It was only a little over a fortnight since we'd taken our regular circular walk around St.John's Chapel in Weardale but, when we visited again on Saturday, the intervening period of almost dawn-to-dusk sunshine had transformed the landscape. All the early summer flowers, like the wood cranesbill, had run to seed and perfect haymaking weather meant that all the meadows had been mown. 

Even though this was only July, it seemed as though the summer is slipping by and it felt, as they say around here, 'proper back-endish'.

Harebells and crested dog's tail grass beside Harthope burn

Marsh woundwort in flower beside a ditch at the bottom of Chapel Fell

The frothy blossom of meadowsweet, once used for flavouring mead (the name has nothing to do with meadows, it refers to mead).

Monkey flower Mimulus guttatus in the gravel beside the river Wear. Thirty years ago, when I first saw it on this spot, this alien plant from the western United States was much commoner along the river than it is now - it seems to have gone into decline.

Rushes flowering on the slopes of Chapel Fell. For much of the year these are dull plants but for a brief period, when they flower, they look very attractive in the sunlight (double-click for a clearer image)

Timothy Grass Phleum pratense, flowering in corners of meadows that the mower missed. Very similar to meadow foxtail Alopecurus pratensis, but that flowers in spring and this flowers in mid-summer.

A most heartening sight - one of twelve freshly emerged small tortoiseshells on creeping thistles, on the flanks of Chapel Fell. These butterflies seem to be doing very well around here this year - we had seven at once on the Inula flowers in our front garden this weekend.

Spot the fish: a trout, keeping station in the sunlit river below a waterfall, catching whatever the river delivers and only given away by its shadow - the fish's back is a very close match for the colour of the underlying rock.

Up on Chapel Fell the lapwings have finished nesting and are now forming flocks with their juveniles.

The Spiders and The Fly

Today's Guardian Country Diary describes a walk along a stretch of the banks of the river Wear at Wolsingham in Weardale, along a footpath known as The Fly. The name probably refers to the fact that this is a good stretch of fly fishing river, but it's also a fine place for finding interesting insects and spiders.

The early part of the walk passes through meadows like this one, which have produced a wonderful display of buttercups this year. This might be because the buttercups, which store starch in their roots over the winter that can be used for rapid growth in spring, have responded to the unusually late spring by growing more rapidly than the grasses.

Then the path plunges into shady woodland with dense vegetation on the edge of the river .......

... before the trees - mostly alders along this stretch - thin our. At this point the soil is mainly fertile silt left by winter floods and the vegetation is luxuriant - these aniseed-scented sweet cicely plants were head-high. If you click here you can see what this spot looked like back in May, when the tallest plants were only ankle-high.

A crane-fly, showing the paired balancing organs rather nicely.

There were a many of these snipe flies Rhagio scolopacea (above) lurking in the last of the hawthorn flowers that bloomed almost until the end of June in the hedgerow along the first part of the path. They're predators, flying out to catch passing insects. Snipe flies have a distinctive habit of resting in this head-down posture in hedges. Those unusually large eyes are exceptionally sensitive to movement of prey passing through their field of vision.

The dense riverbank herbage is perfect habitat for these scorpion flies Panorpa communis. The curled up tail, which looks dangerous, is really the male's specialised genitalia.

Scorpion flies belong to a very ancient order of insects called the Mecoptera and fossils of their distinctive wings show that they evolved at least 250 million years ago. They are thought to be the ancestors of butterflies, moths, caddis flies and true flies. 

The two pictures above are of a female, which lacks the 'scorpion' tail of the male.

Bird cherries are a prominent component of the tree flora here and some have become infested with small ermine moth caterpillars, which weave a silken tent where they can defoliate the tree in comparative safety ....

... although this one has broken cover.

In years when there are heavy infestations whole trees can be enveloped in these silk tents.

There's a diversity of fly species along this footpath - and also plenty of spiders. The three pictures above show the cucumber-green Araneus cucurbitinus, whose abdomen can look like a flower bud. It weaves its snare across the surface of leaves.

This, though, was our most fascinating spider discovery - a ball of recently hatched diadem spiderlings (aka orb web spider, aka garden spider) Araneus diadematus. At this stage they huddle together for mutual security but if you give this seething mass of tiny arachnids a gentle poke .....  

...... the spider-ball explodes and they scatter in all directions.......

... racing away along the silken threads that suspend the ball ....

.... like sailors climbing the rigging of a sailing ship.