Early spring along the river Wear at Wolsingham, Weardale

Blue skies and warm sunny weather in Weardale this weekend. Here are a few of the sights from a walk along the banks of the river Wear downstream from Wolsingham.

Blackthorn in full bloom everywhere.

Elm flowering is long finished, now the clusters of seeds are developing

Dry weather in the dale, so the water level in the river has dropped rapidly, leaving shallow pools full of trapped fish.

Great tit singing

Grey wagtails are most often seen at the water's edge, but this cock bird was perched in a riverbank tree

A very confiding hedge sparrow. I suspect its was reluctant to fly because its nest was somewhere close, though I failed to find it.

Herb robert coming into flower. This was a nutrient-starved plant rooted in a dead tree and the stress may account for those vivid red leaves

Plenty of ripe ivy berries, particularly valuable food for spring migrants.

Lambs growing fast ..... and very lively

The best find of the day, a morel Morchella esculenta. The sandy silt near the river bank seems to suit these fungi, though they don't appear very often.

Nuthatch, very vociferous at this time of year.

A well-worn peacock butterfly, refuelling on butterbur nectar after a long hibernation

So warm that sheep were looking for somewhere shady to rest by mid-morning

Sycamore buds are exceptionally beautiful when they swell, elongate and begin to burst at this time of year

It was been an exceptional year for toothwort, the parasite that gains all its nutrients from the roots of hazel. Must have seen well over 100 flower spikes.

Click here for more information on this unusual flowering plant that is completely lacking in chlorophyll.

The tiny-flowered ivy-leaved speedwell Veronica hederifolia coming into flower

Willow warblers singing all along the riverbank

Wood sorrel coming into bloom

.... and finally, a very noisy singing wren.

Nuthatch home improvements

We spotted this nuthatch, busy working on a nest hole in an old oak tree, when we were out walking in Teesdale last week.

Nuthatches usually nest on tree holes, selecting one that has a slightly larger opening than they need and then partially blocking up the hole with mud. We watched it make several trips down to the edge of the river Tees to collect the necessary building material but ....

.... it also came back with water and then seemed to regurgitate it as it entered the nest - you can see droplets hanging from its beak in this rather blurred photo. I suspect that what it was doing was softening the mud that was lining the entrance but had dried in the sun, because then ....

..... it entered the nest hole and then squeezed out again through the muddy aperture ....

..... using its body to mould the perfect size of entrance hole.

Nuthatches

When we first moved to Durham, nearly 40 years ago, nuthatches were not very common birds here. I can still remember the first one that I spotted, hammering away at a yew seed wedged into the fissures in the tree near Prebends bridge in Durham city.

Since then they have become very common birds throughout the county and it would be an exceptional day out if we didn't see or hear at least one. I saw these two within ten minutes of each other in Auckland Park, Bishop Auckland, last week - and heard two more there. 

They are now frequent bird table visitors in winter too, and in spring their noisy courtship is a conspicuous feature of woodlands. Their numbers seem to have increased most noticeably in the last decade - although I'd have to concede that maybe I'm also becoming more aware of them.

Which begs the question "why have their numbers increased?". It can't be food supply because their staple food - tree seeds - can't have changed much. Climate change - the favourite driver for everything these days - seems unlikely too as these are hardy little birds. I can't imagine that there has been any decline in any particular predator either.  Maybe bird table feeding has had some effect, but that can't be the only reason as I see them as often in remote places as I do around habitation. 

It's all a bit of a mystery, but it's a delight to watch them feeding at this time of year, when there's a massive abundance of food for them to choose from.

River Wear, Wolsingham

Today's Guardian Country Diary describes a walk along the River Wear at Wolsingham in Weardale. Even though the riverbank woods look bare at this time of year there's always plenty to see along this stretch of river .....

 ... like the exquisite filigree of cypress-leaved feather moss Thuidium tamariscinum. Many woodland mosses make a lot of fresh new growth during mild spells in winter, when more light can reach them through the leafless branches.

There are often some fine fungi along here too on all the decaying wood - like these velvet shanks.

When we had prolonged heavy rain in Weardale a couple of weeks ago and the river rose very rapidly and flooded its banks. It scoured away all the dead leaves but the dead sweet cicely flower stems - which are chest-high here in summer and smell of aniseed - remained rooted but were flattened by the water, leaving a contour map on he ground of the path of the current as it had swept around the tree trunks.

Above the high water mark of the flood there was still a thick layer of autumn's decaying leaves ...

...... with bluebell leaves already spearing through.

Closer to the river the retreating water had deposited a thick layer of silt, but the buried snowdrops that grow in profusion here early in the year had already forced there way up to the sunlight and started to bloom.

When the water level falls if leaves behind these dark, temporary pools amongst the alders on the edge of the river. Sometimes there are fish trapped and the local herons are well aware of this - there are always heron footprints around the edges. In the spring toads breed in the pools and then it's a race against time for the tadpoles to develop before the pools dry up.

This stretch of river always has resident dippers and at this time of year they sing a lot, establishing their territory. It's amazing how you can always hear their song above the sound of the river - its pitch must have evolved to penetrate the background noise of the water rushing over a stony riverbed.

The riverside woodlands are constantly raided by parties of long-tailed tits .....

nuthatches ......

..... and treecreepers, all looking for insects in tree bark crevices, while ........

...... this heron, evidently out of luck in the riverside pools, flapped away to try its luck on earthworms in the fields above the river.

An Autumn Walk along the River Tees

The long, narrow gorge spanned by Egglestone's Abbey Bridge bridge provides one the most picturesque viewing points on the River Tees in autumn

This is the view from the bridge looking upstream - Egglestone Abbey is just  above the trees in the middle distance (double-click) and is ...

...... visible from the bridge now that the leaves are falling.

The view downstream - there are footpaths on both sides of the river and you can follow it down to its confluence with the River Greta, at the Meeting of the Waters.

The river squeezes through narrow gaps and tumbles over boulders ...

.... and you can hear it through the trees all the way along the path, even when it isn't in spate.

The high humidity in the gorge makes this a fine habitat for mosses and ferns like this polypody growing as an epiphyte on a tree branch over the river.

Yellowing horse chestnut leaves provide a sunbathing spot for flies whose days are numbered, now that frosts are on their way.

Nectar-rich ivy flowers provide a last-minute refuelling station for drone flies.

Shades of yellow - hazel, oak and beech autumn colours.

Some of the large beeches have been attacked by honey fungus - always fatal, but it can take decades to kill the tree.

A nuthatch, dangling down to pick beech nuts out of beech mast - it seems to be a 'mast year', with a very heavy crop.

Ripe holly berries are a reminder that there are only 50 shopping days until Christmas.

Downstream there are some wild cherries with a fiery display of autumn colours..

... and a fine crop of ripe yew berries.

A passing shower leaves a rainbow, which is wasted on those two sheep that are watching - they only have dichromatic vision and can't distinguish red from green.

Looking back upstream - on what Kenneth Grahame in the Wind in the Willows called a 'golden afternoon'...