What does the tower mean to you ?

Climbing the tower at Flanders is really something special. Even for someone like me who has been visiting Flanders Moss for nearly 10 years and since the tower was completed in November has been up it 4 or 5 times a week it still has a special feeling of anticipation as you climb the steps for a whole lot of reasons.

Firstly there is the chance to see what you couldn't see before. The panoramic view across the moss to the hills and mountains that make the amphitheatre that Flanders sits in is something special and having looked at Flanders for man height for so long it is still a novelty to see as you haven't seen it before. Once on the platform you are into the tree tops and so on bird level. With the summer migrants arriving this means that you are ear level with willow warblers, chaffinches and redstarts, and the cuckoos call and swoop right past you. You are also up in the weather, the sun is brighter, the breeze fresher, the wind sharper and the rain wetter. For some the climb offers a challenge to be overcome if vertigo or the stairs are a problem but the exhilaration can be all the more if they make it to the top.

For me there is a feeling of escape from everyday life as you climb the stairs. Up on the platform is just a different world. And for many people they climb the tower just cos its there, perhaps it is an unconscious desire to get high on flat land and just to look where you couldn't look before.

So what does the tower mean to you ?

Pink Waves

You might know from gardening that some flowering plants do better some years than others. Well the same can work for wildflowers and this year is the year of the cuckooflower. It has been bursting forth in pink waves on damp grassland across the area this year in exceptional amounts including all around the edge of Flanders Moss. It is named from the fact that it usually comes into flower when the cuckoo arrives, around about the end of April but continues to flower through into June. It is a plant of many names and two that I know are lady's smock and milkmaids. I don't know why these wildflowers fluctuating years of abundance but it is likely to include the effect of previous springs and winters that has the collective effect of promoting vigorous flowers from plants that otherwise may lie dormant. In recent years with warmer springs it has started flowering earlier still and this might causes problems for one of the creatures that uses it for food. The orange tip butterfly lays its eggs on cuckooflowers so that the caterpillars can feed on the plant when they hatch. The eggs are laid just under the flowers and when the caterpillars hatch they feed on the developing seed pods that are packed full of energy. But all this needs careful timing so that there is enough food for the caterpillars to fill up on, too early and there are no seed pods to eat, too late and the plant is dying back just when the caterpillars want the most amount of food. This is just one illustration of how climate change is affecting the everyday wildlife we see. Climate change can have unforeseen knock-on effects as cuckooflower is reputed to be sacred to fairies. As the flower was so special to them traditionally is was never picked for bunches of flowers in case you angered them. So just think when you next take the car rather than walk a short journey that the effects can be even wider ranging you might have imagined.

The Signs Are There To Be Read

If you go down to the boardwalk you will see some new signs that have been put up in the last week. These hopefully will provide a bit more information for visitors. This includes details of what events we are running, guidence for dog walkers at the moss and 2 signs have been designed, written and drawn by Thornhill Primary. One is all about the do's and don'ts of visiting the site at different seasons. The other tells visitors all about the wildflower meadow by the car park that Thornhill Primary are helping us create (more about this later in the season). Luckily they weren't up when we had our bit of vandalism. We also have new leaflet holders up with laminated leaflets that visitors can "borrow" for their walk.

The frames that hold the signs have been beautifully made by John Burgess from Arnrpior using loal Scottish oak from the Garden estate. It is very satisfying to be able to use a local contractor and a local material and it doesn't get much local than that.

At other points around the Moss there are also new threshold signs. These "monoliths" (corporate term for great big signs) tell people that they are about to enter the NNR, what hazards they might find and that they are better off going round to where the boardwalk is.

On The Boardwalk

Flanders is a big piece of land, you can see that from the viewing tower and it sits in a big landscape surrounded by hills and mountains but today it was the small things that took my attention. A funny day on the boardwalk, the sun was bright and warm but every so often a cloud would come over and snow flakes would drift down. The warmth of the sun set the little stuff buzzing, everywhere I looked something was purposefully going about their life. In the car park the dandelions were crawling with hoverflies, bumblebees and honey bees. The hoverflies with the bee-look-a-like yellow and black stripes would sit tight so that you could get a really close look. Darting in between all the yellow and black stuff were striking orange-tip and green-veined white butterflies, their names tell you all you need to know to identify them. Along the aggregate path green jewels kept drifting up from my feet. Once they landed a few feet ahead these revealed themselves as green tiger beetles - ferocious predators that run down their prey like cheetahs. Further down the path marched a big hairy caterpillar, obviously on a mission. I am not great at caterpillars so am not sure what species this one is but maybe it is a drinker moth, also big and hairy.
But for many people the best site is the Flanders lizards. These common lizards have taken the boardwalk for their own, using it as a perfect basking area. They sit on the side kicking boards and then can dive between the treads or drop off the edge if they ever feel threatened. However they seem to be getting used to people as I found I could get very close to them before they darted away.
So a face down mooch along the boardwalk on a sunny day can reveal and wealth of life the everyone can see. Just pick a warmish day.

No Rain (to quote Blind Melon)

Well actually a bit of rain but not very much. The total for the year so far (Jan to Apr - 4 months) is 256 mm and this is only 65 % of what Flanders Moss would normally get. I realise that most people would think this is good news but a bog manager looks at things in a different way and little rain means a drying out bog. The pools on the Moss are starting to dry up a bit but things are too bad yet but when the daytime temperatures start to rise so increasing evaporation and the trees come into leaf and start to suck water out of the Moss then the water levels drop faster. So a bit more rain over May would be nice, .......but I won't say it too loudly.

Dawn chorus

It is something everyone ought to have a go at sometime or other, that is get up before dawn to listen to the dawn chorus. I did it at Flanders last Friday, for the first time sampling it from the viewing tower and it was magical. With sunrise being 0530 it was a bit of a struggle getting there early enough but I managed to be in the tower 10 mins. before the sun came up, well dressed to deal with the cold westerly wind. Of course the dawn chorus doesn't just start on the dot of sunrise and there were already lots of birds singing in the half-light as I climbed the stairs. At least 3 willow warblers were pouring out their delicate warble, a grasshopper warbler was reeling away, a chaffinch clattered and a wren rattled and trilled. Gradually as the light grew stronger more birds got in on the act, 2 male pheasants yelled at each other, the cuckoos started competing against each other, up to 4 different birds at one time, a male redstart chiruped and squeaked away at tree to level and a great tit gradually worked through its reptoire of calls. Of course it was not all beautiful singing, the common gulls on the pool by the boardwalk suddenly woke up and every so often would start hysterically laughing like a bunch of teenagers at a bus stop and in the woodland edge the harsh barking of a couple of roe deer made me jump. At 0530 there was no sudden burst of light as the rising sun was being blocked by low lying cloud, just a slow increase in light intensity as if the dimmer switch was being turned up. The Kippen bells marked 0600 and then at 0615 the sun suddenly topped the cloud and burst onto the top of the Menteith Hills in the west. With the sun rising higher a golden carpet of warmth rolled across the Moss accelerating the wake up and eventually reaching the viewing tower. Activity increased with the sun with a cuckoo incurring the wrath of 2 meadow pipits who chased it off, a couple of teal worriedly kee, kee'ed by the boardwalk and a redshank fluttered across a marshy bit. Overhead a small group of late pinkfeet headed north, 3 black-headed gulls and a couple of immature lesser black-backed gulls mooched over in the opposite direction. By 0730 things seemed to be quietening down and the rhythm of the day had been set, my stomach was telling me that it was time for breakfast so I headed off to find some and start work. 25 different species of bird were seen and heard in 2 seemingly very short hours and though when the alarm had gone off at 0430 I had questioned the idea by breakfast time I was feeling fulfilled, enriched, smug and superior and thought it had been the best idea I had had all year. You don't have to know your birdsong though to enjoy the event so why not give it a go ?