SpringListen as migratory birds return to Dartmoor

As Spring takes hold at St Olaves, it is wonderful to hear a constant background bubble of bird song wherever we go in the garden. For months we had to be content with the plaintiff serenades of our robins and the haunting back and forth of Tawny owls during the long nights. But now there is song everywhere, and from so many different species. We are getting better at identifying birds from their calls and songs, but we still make good use of the free and very impressive Merlin Bird ID app from Cornell Labs. We didn’t know about the app this time last year so were unable to use it to help us identify the songs and calls of our returning migrants. Their presence in the hedgerows is one of the things that makes a Devon spring so joyful, but we still find telling them apart by call challenging without this extra help.

Of course, some birds need no app. We could hardly miss the Swallows swooping across the silage field outside our kitchen window, or the incessant, repetitive call of the Chiffchaff (always our first returning migrant). But this week, I have really appreciated how the app has helped me to tune in to the sweet if slightly rasping melody of the Blackcap, which seems to have returned to St Olaves in record numbers this year. Though I am yet to get a good view of one (they have always been buried deep in a bush or high in a tree), their song is unmistakable once this amazing bit of technology has helped you to isolate it from the background hum of our resident songbirds.

This afternoon I was lucky enough to be running the app when I heard an unusual high-pitched song while cleaning out the hens. When I checked my phone, the app had just registered the bird as a Firecrest; still rare in this part of Devon and the first time I have definitely heard it at St Olaves (last year only Merlin heard it). The Firecrest is closely related to the more common Goldcrest, and is slowly expanding its range in South-West England, having only become an established breeding species in the UK in 1962.

Firecrest (male), Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0 DEED

But it’s not all about technology. Over breakfast this morning we saw a small orangey-red bird flitting about the garden. Fortunately, my binoculars were near to hand, and I was able to catch a good enough sight to confirm that this was a female Redstart rather than a Robin. Perhaps she had only just arrived after the long migration from Africa. A minute or two later she was gone, hopefully in search of a mate and suitable nesting sites.

Redstart female, Wikimdeia Commons, Andrew Thomas, UK, CC-BY-SA 2.0

We hope that over the next few weeks we will catch sight (and sound) of more of our rare and special migratory visitors, and that Merlin will continue to help us find them. The wooded valleys that run off Dartmoor, like our own Teign valley, are nationally important for species such Pied and Spotted Flycatchers, Willow and Wood Warblers as well as the lovely redstart. We’ll let you know if Merlin helps us to confirm their presence, and with luck their successful nesting.

16 April 2024

Postscript: amazingly, later the same day, when taking a walk down to the river after supper, Merlin claimed to have heard a Willow Warbler on the hillside. Annoyingly I missed hearing it myself, and though we waited for some time, there was no repeat song or call (the Willow Warbler has a famously unusual, sweet, descending song). Maybe next time we will make a clearer ID – we’ll certainly try.

Foraging for Chanterelles

This summer we passed the sixth anniversary of our move to West Devon, and by chance we marked that landmark by successfully foraging our first Chanterelle mushrooms. Following advice from some generous friends, we found a site on the edge of the moor that was particularly good for these lovely, bright-orange edible mushrooms. More remarkable was that once we had got our eye in, we started noticing them everywhere: on country lanes, in the atmospheric woods that grow all around us, and even in our own garden. We aren’t brave foragers, so before we took the plunge of eating them we spent a lot of time studying books and internet sites trying to learn how to distinguish true from false chanterelles. The latter won’t kill you, but apparently, they can cause a significant upset stomach if eaten in error.

Chanterelles growing near the moor in mossy grass and under the canopy of an old beech

So far, so good – through late August and September we had a series of lovely meals enhanced by these beautiful, curly-edged delicacies. When we find them growing, usually in moss or leaf-mould close by an established beech or oak, we always try to leave more than half the clump for nature/others. We also try not to pick them when they are still small, although this does often mean accepting that someone else will have harvested them before we return. On one occasion, we found that all the mushrooms in an especially good patch had been cut to the ground with a sharp knife overnight (we generally harvest by hand ourselves and then trim the muddy base).

Just-picked chanterelles with their mudddy bases

A typical location for chanterelles on the edge of the moor

To our amazement, in early September we even found Chanterelles growing on the path from our house to the outdoor firepit – they really have been everywhere this year. Perhaps the wet summer helped. Or perhaps they were always there but we just didn’t notice or didn’t realise what they were. As with any mushroom, tuning in to its habitat, and learning how to distinguish it from other (potentially poisonous) mushrooms is the key with Chanterelles.

Our trusted guide - complete with Chanterelles on the cover

We have always found the Collin’s guide How to Identify Edible Mushrooms, by Patrick Harding, Tony Lyon and Gill Tomblin to be particularly clear and helpful. Now out of print, the slim 1996 paperback edition is widely available second-hand and generally cheaper than the 2007 reprint. There are also many good mushroom ID phone apps available, although the best require a subscription (this is a financial commitment we have resisted, thus far, so we cannot make recommendations).  Guides are full of various tips for identifying true chanterelles from their inedible cousins, but the key distinguishing feature is the nature of the gill pattern beneath the cap. Unlike false chanterelles, which have ‘true’ gills very like a field or portobello mushroom (i.e. gills that run straight from the outer rim to the central stem), the edible chanterelle has a criss-crossing, lattice-patterned under-side where many of the gill-like threads interconnect.

The underside of a true chanterelle showing its criss-crossed pattern of pseudo gills

Guide-books also claim that edible chanterelles smell fruity, with a hint of apricot, that their stems are more solid and narrow towards the base, and that their cap is chunkier with a more crenulated margin. But we have not found any of these indicators to be as unambiguous as the gill pattern.

Chanterelles picked and waiting to be cleaned

Finally, how should one prepare and cook chanterelles? Cleaning the mushrooms can be fiddly, especially if you haven’t cut the muddy bases off when collecting. It is best not to wet the mushrooms – we tend to use a small dry brush and a lightly dampened cloth or kitchen towel. Getting dirt from between the gills may require a sharp point such as a pen knife blade. Once clean and dry, chanterelles can be used as any mushroom. They are great in omelettes or fried in butter with parsley and garlic and then used as a garnish on a dish such as a creamy risotto. If you have enough, why not just serve them on slices of buttered sourdough toast, or use them in a cream sauce to accompany a light meat like chicken or guinea fowl. Happy foraging—and feasting.

Chanterelles served with mushroom risotto, pigeon breast and braised fig with a crispy sage garnish

Almost Wild Camping

Charlie Loram discussing tents

The rule of three is a good way of remembering that you can survive for three minutes without oxygen, three hours without shelter, three days without water, and three weeks without food. It would seem that you can also, just about, survive for 55/59 years without knowing how to wild camp. However, this weekend we spent three days learning all about how to sleep out in comfort with the minimum of kit.

The weekend was led by Charlie Loram and Emily Fawcett, and they provided a great introduction to basic bush skills and wild camping. We learned a huge amount. This included the advantages of different types of shelter; how to cook using a tiny Meths stove, or a small camp fire; techniques for washing up in a stream; and how to adjust a back pack so that it fits comfortably.

Emily Fawcett discussing good food for wild camping

One of the most memorable parts of the weekend was being lent a tarp so that we could sleep outside without a tent, but with good shelter from the rain. Emily was expert at teaching us the three or four main knots that were needed to put up our tarp, and Charlie has a great technique for packing a tarp away so that it is quick to erect next time you go camping.

Dartmoor is the only National Park in England that allows wild camping, and there is a helpful map provided by the Park Authority that shows where camping is permitted. From 2003 (as a result of the Land reform Act) wild camping has been permitted in Scotland, as long as campers follow the Outdoor Access Code. However, unfortunately, there are very few places to wild camp legally elsewhere in Great Britain. For those who want to camp in remote/wild locations without facilities the Nearly Wild Camping website provides listings of landowners who allow wild camping for a small fee. For those who want to learn much more about foraging and survival techniques, Charlie and Emily help lead ‘The Old Way’ – an immersive course that provides insight into the skills and practices of our hunter gatherer ancestors.

Inspired by Emily and Charlie, we had our first night wild camping on Dartmoor last night. We swam in the River Plym beneath Ditsworthy Warren House and then watched the sun go down over Gutter Tor.

Thirteen walk over thirteen miles of Dartmoor on the thirteenth

The group walk on North Dartmoor on Tuesday was our first experience of a ‘Chagwalk’. It was led by Alan Deacon, who had described the day as an eleven mile walk on good paths at a moderate pace.

We started well with a relatively easy path taking us from the parking at Scorhill to the White Moor stone and the small stone circle nearby. From there we headed up a gentle slope to Hound Tor and then beyond to Wild Tor. The skies were grey and cloudy, but with some glimpses of sunshine and no real rain. Wild Tor is just within the military range so is not always accessible but during August the whole of Dartmoor remains open for walkers.

At Hangingstone Hill we waited for everyone in the group to be together - from there it was then a short, but rather difficult walk across the boggy uneven moor to the Cranmere pool letter box . We were warned not to have high expectations of the ‘pool’; this is no place for wild swimming, just a small indentation in the moor, but the letter box is a reminder of the practice of ‘letterboxing’ started in the 1850s and a precursor to the Geocaching of today.

We then retraced our steps back to Hangingstone Hill for lunch. From here Meldon Hill looks insignificant and there are great views across the North of Dartmoor. Just a little further south is Whitehorse hill, site of an important prehistoric burial excavated in 2011. After lunch we carried on to find a peat pass, a track high up on the moor dug to make it easier for horses to be ridden over the moor. It was here that we missed the path to take us back down to cross the Teign and trace our way round to find Scorhill again. A decision was made to stick to the better paths, even if it meant a longer walk. By the time we walked below the deserted Teignhead farmhouse and could see the familiar shape of Kestor rock in the distance we were feeling rather weary. However, the huge advantages of walking as part of a group are that there are interesting people to chat to and the reassurance that you can’t really get lost when you are walking with people who have spent decades hiking on the Moor. The Group organise a local walk monthly, always on the 13th. We thoroughly recommend it to anyone in the area keen to get to know Dartmoor better.