Enjoy spring in the woods
As spring stirs in the woodlands of Britain, follow Phil Gates’ lyrical and beautiful guide to what to find, when, from birds’ early mating calls to the bursting buds of May
“There is no better place to enjoy this season of renewal, where every day brings new delights”
The darkest winter months are behind us and the fuse for spring to begin has been lit. At first, there will be sputtering sparks: swelling buds; sudden bursts of song from wrens and robins; a few tentative wildflowers, braving the late frosts. But soon the annual, exhilarating explosion of colour and sound, of carpets of wildflowers, bursting buds and summer migrant birds will be with us again.
Time to head for your local woodland, to search for the earliest signs of spring. There is no better place to enjoy this season of renewal, where every day brings new delights.
1. EARLY SPRING: February to March
A blustery wind clatters branches together, shaking loose the last autumn leaves that have clung to twigs all winter, sending them spinning to earth. On a chilly morning there are already signs underfoot of the great awakening – mosses produce bright new leaves and elegant spore capsules.
Stand quietly in a wood in late February and you can hear spring arriving, announced with a drum roll by great
spotted woodpeckers, hammering on hollow branches to attract mates. Listen for staccato courtship calls of nuthatches, chasing through the branches, and repetitious ‘tee-tee-tu’ songs of great
tits, already forming their pair bonds.
You might detect an earthy aroma of humus in the air, too, released by a hidden web of fungal threads digesting last summer’s fallen leaves. Toffee-coloured velvet shank toadstools, covered in early morning frost, sprout from decaying tree stumps, scarlet elf cup fungi feed on buried twigs and vivid turquoise scales of green elf cup decorate decaying oak timber.
Three-inch-tall moschatel is one of the earliest wildflowers to reveal itself; four outward-facing florets give it the alternative name of town-hall clock. Time is of the essence for woodland flowers; they need to compete for pollinators and set seed before the new leaf canopy overhead plunges them into deep shade. The lime-green flowers of spurge-laurel attract the attention of early emerging queen bumblebees. Smaller yellow-green flowers of opposite-leaved golden saxifrage, which carpet boggy areas, and green tassels of dog’s mercury on drier ground lure small flies to transport their pollen. Herald moths, with foxy-coloured patches of wing scales, rest on tree trunks, ready to lay eggs on the first willow and poplar leaves. By the end of March, starry yellow flowers of lesser
celandines spangle the edges of woodland rides and summer-migrant blackcaps are arriving, just in time to feed on ripe ivy berries.
2. MID-SPRING: April
As March, which often ‘enters like a lion but leaves like a lamb’, draws to a close, the display of hazel catkins has reached its peak. Gently tap a branch on a still, warm afternoon to set free a cloud of yellow pollen that hangs in the air for a moment, then vanishes, like will-o’-the-wisp. Take a close look around the tree’s roots, too; they are often parasitized by toothwort, a strange, white, leafless flower that spends 10 months of the year hidden underground.
The explosion of tree foliage comes pre-packaged and protected in buds, but now, as the sap rises, those embryonic, tightly folded leaves cannot be held in check by bud scales any longer. When the delicate new foliage first expands it is as translucent as a stained-glass window, glowing in the spring sunshine.
The annual invasion of warblers is reaching its peak, so now’s the time to emulate that great 18th-century naturalist Gilbert White and, by their song alone, learn to distinguish the descending cadences of willow warblers from the two-syllable song of chiffchaffs, which look so similar. Listen too for the silvery, accelerating trill of wood warblers, hidden among the unfurling foliage overhead. Drifts of wood
anemones, held aloft on stems so slender that they tremble in the slightest breeze, open along woodland rides and delicate wood sorrel flowers appear among moss-covered tree roots. There are dog violets aplenty, dense patches of
primroses and early purple orchids in bloom. Every day provides new nectar and pollen rewards for bee flies that dart between flowers, and for brimstone butterflies that dance along woodland rides. Along footpaths, look out for female oil beetles, with a metallic-blue sheen to their black armour and abdomens distended with eggs. Their larvae climb into flowers and hitchhike on unwitting solitary bees, completing their development in the bees’ nests.
3. LATE SPRING: May
May is the loveliest month in deciduous woodlands. Bluebell leaves began spearing through last autumn’s fallen leaves in late February, when the soil was still frozen. Now the woodland floor has disappeared under a knee-deep haze of their pendant bells, leavened with pink campion, white stars of greater stitchwort, the strange, hooded inflorescences of cuckoo pint and uncoiling croziers of
fern fronds. There is no more beautiful assemblage of wildflowers in our countryside.
On a still day, bluebell woods have the heady fragrance of a florist’s shop. Where bluebells are replaced by the white,
“Bluebell woods have the heady fragrance of a florist’s shop”
starry blooms of ramsons, an aroma of garlic rises from underfoot.
Delightful surprises can be hidden among this carpet of flowers, where roe deer sometimes leave their newborn fawns and tawny owls park portly, fluffy owlets while they hunt for wood mice. Look, then leave them in peace. Come back at dusk to hear the owl’s ‘kee-wik’ contact call, or perhaps catch a glimpse of badger cubs enjoying their new freedom above ground.
By late May, the leaf canopy overhead has almost closed. Now, the woodland is a magical place of shifting shadows and sun flecks. Hoverflies hang, almost motionless, in sunbeams. Larvae of moths such as the oak tortrix have been nibbling holes in leaves, so foliage is losing that pristine perfection of just a week or two ago. But they in turn are collected by tits and flycatchers that flit between branches, endlessly searching for caterpillars to feed their nestlings.
May runs its course and the bluebells are fading; the hysteria of spring is almost over and the woodland is settling into summer lethargy. It’s over too quickly; there are nine months to wait before it can be relived. If we are extremely lucky, we can each enjoy this annual reawakening around 100 times. Each opportunity becomes more precious, with every passing year.
Turn over for an illlustrated guide to a typical spring woodland