What is a Bluebell?

Bluebells are in the Asparagus family, their Latin name is Hyacinthoides non-scripta.  It’s no surprise that they’re relatives of the garden hyacinth, they share the same heady scent.

They are monocots; a division of plant that includes all the grasses, lilies, orchids, and tulips.  Shared characteristics include leaves with parallel veins, the distinct growth pattern of a seedling from a one-grained seed, fibrous roots, and flowers without differentiated sepals and petals.  These in-between structures are known as tepals.

Monocot plant variety with seedling in centre

Bluebell Hyacinthoides non-scripta

The native Bluebell can grow up to 30cm tall.

It has glossy green strap-like leaves which are 7 – 15mm wide, with a pointed tip.  They can be 45cm long and there tend to be 3 to 6 leaves per plant. These start erect, but may flop and twist as the plant grows.

Illustrating a Bluebell leaf

The flowers are all on one side of the stalk, which often curves and droops at the top.  When mature, individual flowers dangle; as buds they can be more erect, often flushed with green.

Sketchbook study of Bluebell flowers

The flower shape is bell-like, but with parallel sides, and only opening at the mouth of the flower.  Each flower has 6 tepals, and tepal tips are strongly recurved which gives the plants that distinct frilly appearance.  They tend to be a deeper, darker blue than other Bluebell species.

Bluebell flower Hyancinthoides non-scripta

Anthers and the pollen they produce is a pale cream.

This matters because there are other species of Bluebell which can be confusingly similar.

Spanish Bluebell Hyacinthoides hispanica

The Spanish bluebell has flowers that grow all around the stem, and which point upwards.  They are often a far paler blue than H. non-scripta.  At maturity they gape with a much wider mouth than the native species.  Anthers are dark blue.  Leaves are significantly wider, up to 35mm across.

Spanish bluebell Hyacinthoides hispanica

Hybrid Bluebell Hyacinthoides x massartiana

Recently botanists have come to the conclusion that most flowers sold, and grown in gardens, are not Spanish Bluebell at all, but various hybrids.  This is because there is so much H. non-scripta pollen in the air that cross-fertilization, and back cross-breeding is almost inevitable. (Cumbria Botany – Telling Bluebells apart)

Hybrid Bluebells have erect stems with flowers growing all around them.  The mature flowers may droop, but don’t dangle vertically down as with H. non-scripta.  

Flowering spikes of native Bluebell H. non-scripta vs  the Hybrid Bluebell H. x massartiana

The mouth opens wider than the native species, but less wide than H. hispanica.  Tepal tips don’t curve back on themselves as much as with H. non-scripta, and anthers and pollen vary in colour from blue to dark grey, to a dirty pale yellow.  The flowers have a far weaker scent than the native Bluebell.

Hybrid bluebell Hyacinthoides x massartiana

For more on this, check out these useful guides to telling Bluebell species apart: Webidguides, and Cumbria Botany.  My Telling bluebell species apart blog, may be useful, although readers should substitute “Hybrid Bluebell” for “Spanish Bluebell”.

Flowers of H. non-scripta and H. x massartiana

Other names for Bluebells

Bluebells and Bluebell woods have been a part of the landscape in Britain for hundreds, or thousands of years.  They have a vast array of alternative names including English harebell, Wild hyacinth, Cuckoo’s boots, Granfer griggles, Witches’ thimbles, Lady’s nightcap, Fairy flower, and Cra’tae (Crow’s toe).  In Welsh, it’s Clychau’r Gog which translates as “Cuckoo’s bells” and references the fact that Bluebell flower around the same time that the first cuckoos come in from over-wintering in Africa.  (It’s important to note that the true Harebell Campanula rotundiflora is in a totally different family, it’s not even a monocot!)

Ancient oak woodland with Bluebells

Folklore of Bluebells

These flowers have long been associated with fairies and folk lore.  It’s said that if you pick a Bluebell flower the fairies will lead you astray, and you will be lost forever.  If you hear a bluebell ring, a bad fairy will visit you and you’ll die soon after.

Native Bluebell H. non-scripta

On a happier note, in the language of flowers they represent humility, gratitude, and constant love.  If you can turn a Bluebell flower inside out without it tearing, you will capture the heart of your one true love.

Bluebell Hyacinthoides non-scripta in pencil

Finally, if you wear a wreath made of bluebells, you will be unable to lie.  Worth remembering.  (All these folklore facts come from the Woodland Trust’s website.)

Uses of Bluebell

Bluebells have been put to some unusual uses over the years.  In the Bronze age, arrow flights made of feather were glued on with Bluebell paste. Bookbinders used glue made from Bluebell stems.

Starch-rich Bluebell bulb

Elizabethan times saw enormous ruffs and collars which had to be starched.  Bluebell bulbs did the job perfectly.

Although Bluebells contain poisonous glycosides and can cause contact dermatitis, they have been used medicinally in the past.  They are diuretics, causing an increase in urination; and styptics too.  Styptics stop bleeding.

Pencil illustration of native Bluebell with specimen

The perfume industry sells perfumes claiming to be Bluebell scented, but the fragrance has proved too delicate and complex to reproduce commercially.  Bluebell perfumes are derived from their cousin, the hyacinth. (Premierpeu).

Bluebells and the law

When you walk through a woodland in April or May, it seems extraordinary that Bluebells need our protection.  But they do.

Bluebell wood with Redstart

Since the 1981 Wildlife and Countryside act, it has been illegal to dig up any bluebell bulbs in the UK.  It is also illegal to trade in H. non-scripta seeds and bulbs.  Although not against the law, it’s unnecessary and destructive to pick hand-fulls of the flowers.  Not only does this deprive insects like butterflies, bees and hoverflies from early spring sources of nectar, it also damages the leaves.  Once trampled, leaves struggle to recover and can no longer photosynthesize.  So tread with care!

Bluebells as indicators

The Bluebell is an indicator species, growing in areas which were once ancient woodland.  If you see native Bluebells growing in a field or by the side of a road, it’s proof that the area was once wooded with broadleaf species like Ash, Oak, Beech, and Birch.  They thrive in woodland over 400 years old, and are invaluable for ecologists trying to map habitats, and habitat loss.

Illustrating a Bluebell (bulb illustrated from 18th C engraving)

Kew gardens has been tracking the first opening of a Bluebell flower for 50 years, and use this data to help understand climate change.  Bluebells are opening 2 weeks earlier than they did 30 years ago.

Conclusion

Despite threats of habitat loss, climate change, and hybridization; Bluebells remain a firm fixture of the British countryside.  With over 50% of all native Bluebells growing in the UK, Bluebell woods are a visual treat to savour, and be proud of.

Bluebell Hyacinthoides non-scripta

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Guinea grass Megathyrsus maximus

As many who read this blog regularly will know, I love illustrating grasses, so this day was a real treat for me.  (For more on grasses, see my blogs on Shortcuts to identifying some common grass species, Grasses of Montserrat, telling Sedges, Grasses and Rushes apart, An introduction to grass, the C4 Rice project, A class on Grass, and Glorious Grasses. Unless otherwise noted, all illustrations in this blog are by yours truly.)

A day of grasses

This one day event was organised by Kimberly Glassman, who is a postdoctoral research associate for the botanical collections at the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge.

Landscape of rocks & Grasses, William Pyce 1806

Not only did she organise botanical drawings for us to see, and get us access to specimens from the Cambridge University Herbarium collections, but she pulled together an extraordinarily diverse group of students and experts to spend the day talking about why grasses don’t get the attention they deserve.  And what we can do about it.

Grass blindness

We are surrounded by grass.  Most of our food crops are grasses.  Fields of oats, barley, rice, sorghum, corn, and wheat are common across the globe.  Parks and hillsides are swathed in grass.  Our gardens are full of the stuff.  But how often do we stop and look at these diverse and amazing plants below our feet?

Bread Wheat Triticum aestivum

As Howard Thomas says in Grass Blindness (2019), “Some plants are born invisible, some achieve invisibility, and some have invisibility thrust upon them.  Grasses are a case in point”.

The conversations during the day focused on how the collections could be used to engage future museum and herbarium visitors (and researchers), and help shine a spotlight on the long-forgotten grasses.

Soft brome Bromus hordeaceus

Botanical drawings of grasses at the Fitzwilliam: Grasses as secondary subjects

After assembling and introducing ourselves, we got to see a selection of botanical illustrations, selected by Kimberly.

Everyone came with different areas of expertise, seeing the images in contrasting ways.  Conversations flowed, on topics ranging from women naturalists in the 19th century, to how grass is used as a material for making baskets and textiles in Vanuatu, field botany in the 17th C, and the manufacture of artificial flowers in 18th C France.  Members of the group are researching herbalism in book history and plant dyes, Victorian women in paleontology, gene editing in potatoes, North European paintings, and the genetics of crops and grasses.

Interestingly, I felt that only two of the beautiful illustrations laid out for us came close to respecting grasses as subjects in their own right.  The majority used grass as compositional elements, or to add heft to another, more blousy species.

Glass vase of pink & White roses, Antoine Chazal 1893

For example in the painting above, an exquisite miniature, there are grasses in the foreground that might be barley, or wheat.  But they are simply adjuncts to the roses and other flowers.

Bermuda grass is shown alongside another rose, in a 19th C illustration produced in Canton.  But there’s no focus on the grass, it’s all about the roses.

Spray of old roses & Bermuda grass, Canton workshop 19th C

Botanical drawings of grasses at the Fitzwilliam: Grasses as equal subjects

However, it’s clear in the painting by Harriet Cockerell that the grasses in her composition are true to life, probably a brome.

Posy containing Iris, Moss rose, Speedwell, Lilly; Harriet Cockerell 19th C

My favourite piece was a Pre-Raphelite-esque study.  Even though it’s not flowering, I reckon the grass painted alongside the snowdrops could only be Cocksfoot, Dactylis glomerata.  Grass being seen as worthy of illustrating, not only as an accessory.

Snowdrops in Undergrowth, Unknown artist 19th C

We wondered if the term “grass” helps reduce this group of plants to a catch-all.  Is it, in fact, a derogatory term?  Are grasses more visible in other cultures?  Braiding sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer was name-checked.  Are grasses mostly classed as “good” (crops) or “bad” (weeds, in itself another very problematic term)?  Are we blind to them because they are so familiar?  And they are not alone.  Moss and even fungi tend to go un-noticed too.

Grasses & Me: A love story by Madelaine Bartlett

Next stop was a fascinating talk by Madelaine.  She heads the Bartlett group which studies the evolution of grass and flower morphology at Cambridge University Sainsbury’s lab.

She pointed out that many flowers are morphologically conservative.  They get stuck because of their relationship with pollinators.  If you evolve and change, your pollinators may not keep up, and you run the risk of not reproducing.  Grasses, pollinated by the wind, have no such inhibiting factors.  Their morphological diversity is astounding, and perhaps this helps explain their variety?

Bamboo grass Lasiacis divaricata

She touched on the importance of corn, both in research and as a crop.

Then we learnt how we can use the genetic codes of diverse living grasses to figure out what the molecules of ancestor grasses may have looked like.  Thus empowered, you can switch around and project forward, by-passing the temporal constraints of evolution, and figure out ways to modify crops and imagine new as-yet unevolved species.

Common oat grass Avena fatua

But you can’t do any of this without really dense sampling.  This is where collections come in.

Herbariums have sheets and sheets of grasses.  These are not only a visual resource, but a genetic one too.  We can sequence DNA and proteins from tiny fragments of preserved materials.  Recently, RNA has been sampled as well.  Who knows how future scientists will be able to use such collections?  Already, herbarium specimens are being used to study changes in specimens due to climate change. We must future-proof, and conserve them, as physical specimens, not just digital records.

Herbarium visit

Next was our chance to see a selection of grasses from the herbarium, chosen by Juliet Anderson.  These were exquisite.

I often work from online images of herbarium specimens, and was amazed at how much richer and more beautiful they are in real life.  Although flattened, that slight three-dimensionality changed the way I saw them.

Specimens at Cambridge Herbarium

There was a table of specimens that we’d be drawing later, another of grasses as crops, and a third of historically interesting specimens.

Annual meadow grass Poa annua variety

I’ve had a lot to do with Annual meadow grass recently, and to see this sheet showcasing its extraordinary morphological diversity was lovely.

Juliet had also pulled out some pen and ink studies of grass flowers, and some 19th C teaching aids which I was very jealous of.

Bromus erectus flower illustration by Hounslow

On one table there were lots of crop species.  Looking at the Sugar cane, I felt entirely justified in having found the illustrating of its’ flowers last year something of a nightmare.

Sugar cane Saccharum officiarum

Sugar cane Saccharum officiarum

There were also samples showing Ergot in grains of crop species.  I knew about the suggestion that Ergotism was the cause of the hallucinations that sparked the Salem with trials (still hotly debated, see Debunking the Moldy bread theory), but was delighted to hear the suggestions that some of Hieronymous Bosch‘s visions may have been prompted by the same cause.

Ergot

Cambridge Herbarium and The Voyage of the Beagle

Entirely unexpectedly, there on a table were three of four grasses which, it transpired, had been collected by Charles Darwin on the Voyage of the Beagle in 1831 -1836  (For more on this remarkable adventure, listen to In out Time: The Voyage of the Beagle).

Voyage of the beagle Eragrostic pilosa

For someone who has always been in thrall to Darwin and the enormous changes his research caused, this was incredible.  Whether or not he also completed the excellent line drawing of the flowering spikelet, I do not know,  But imagining him gathering these specimens of the Galapagos, and seeing them on a table right in front of me, felt surreal.

Voyage of the Beagle Eragrostis ciliarius

Leaving the herbarium, it was inspirational to realise that all these collections are open to the public (by prior arrangement.)  What a way to combat grass blindness.

Reimagining grasses: A place for art collections & Herbaria

The last talk of the day was the keynote lecture, by Dawn Saunders of Gothenburg University.

This was a whistle stop tour of grasses in art, and an exploration of how artists have tried to build a doorway into the life of plants.

Grasses Harper Collins plate

Dawn was part of the “Beyond Plant Blindness” project, alongside Bryndís Snæbjörnsdóttir, Mark Wilson, Eva Nyberg, and Bente Eriksen. This focussed on the grass Stipa pennata.

One Stipa seed was enlarged to a gigantic 14m long SEM image, hung in a barn.  The same image was made into a wool tapestry hung the height of the atrium in Gothenburg University. Dawn talked about how visitors were confused and fascinated by the image.

The image turned our normal view of plants on its’ head.  The seed was at the front, an image of the plant become secondary, behind it.  Our role as human curators was a mere foot note.

Grasses: False Oat, Crested Dogs-tail, Cocks-foot, and Yorkshire Fog

The aim was to make people consider what being a plant means, what “plant-ness” is.

As Dawn said, “How do we build relational encounters for people to build narratives around their experience with the curated objects?”  How do you use art and herbarium objects to invite new people to think about plants in new ways?

The following discussion touched on the conceptualization of wonder, comparisons of preserved herbarium vs taxidermied specimens, the importance of naming things and the delight of recognition.  Rich grounds indeed.

Crab grass Digitaria ciliaris

Grass drawing workshop

The final activity of the day was an hour long workshop, illustrating grasses.  I’d been so interested I’d almost forgotten I was leading the session, and setting up was something of a rush.

I’d collected loads of little Poa annua plants, the only grass that flowers in late March in the UK, and some Dactylis, complete with in-your-face ligules to discover.  Alas, the Sainsbury’s lab couldn’t allow live material into the building (which is fair enough).

Annual meadow grass Poa annua

Juliet saved the day by selecting and photographing a wide array of common UK grasses held in the herbarium.  People worked from these print outs, first on gesture drawings and then on more detailed illustrations.

Quaking grass, Barley, Oats and Rye grass all proved popular.  By this point in the day, we were all really comfortable with each other, so people chatted happily as they sketched.

Quaking grass Briza media

An hour was not long enough, and it felt like we needed to finish up much too early.

Conclusion

And with that, the day of grasses was over.  It was, as I said to Kimberly, an inter-disciplinary fever-dream.  Historians, biologists, sociologists, curators and botanists.  All drawn together to be awed, excited, and inspired by grasses.  To fight Grass blindness, as individuals and as a group.  To work towards finding ways to use the collections at Cambridge University to encourage the whole world to embrace grasses for their beauty, importance, and diversity.

Enormous thanks are due to everyone who was involved in organising this event.  It was wonderful.

BBC Wildlife Magazine: Common British meadow grasses

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I first illustrated grasses way back in 2014, for the HarperCollins Flower Guide by David Streeter.  Not knowing that I was planting the seeds of an obsession, I volunteered to take on the Graminaceae pages.  A passion was born, which accompanied an extremely steep learning curve!  For more on grass anatomy look at my blog, and at one which explains how you can tell grasses, rushes, and grasses apart.

Grasses plate completed for the HarperCollins field guide

Researching the species list

As with most jobs, the first step is to research the species list provided by the client.  When this covers European species I can often go and find the plant growing in the wild.  Not so for Caribbean species.  Despite having spent some time looking at grasses in the spring, during my visit to teach on Montserrat, I didn’t have the chance to take visual or written notes.

The internet, especially iNaturalist, is a valuable resource in these situations.  So too is Kew’s online plant atlas, scans of herbarium specimens, and any number of US colleges’ agricultural resources.

I need written descriptions as well as illustrations of the grass inflorescence, and photos of the plants growing in situ.  For more on how to illustrate a plant when you can’t get your hands on it, take a look at my blog.

Another thing to remember is that there are numerous English names for each species, and obsolete Latin ones too.  To fully trawl all the information, you need to search all of the names relating to that one species.

Drawing up roughs

It’s always a relief to have botanists on board who can check my illustrations for accuracy, and the team working with Montserrat’s branch of UKOTCF are excellent. They look at the pencil drawings and give feedback.  Once I get the go-ahead, I can start adding colour.

Crab grass Digitaria ciliaris

Each illustration shows the plant with roots, the habit (the way it typically grows), and details of the ligule and individual spikelets (grass flowers).  These are crucial to correctly identifying grasses at species level.

Dutchgrass or Crowsfoot Eleusine indica

Grasses of Montserrat: Generalisations

Many of the grasses were far bluer than the species we get in the UK.  They also tended to have sprawling habits.

It’s interesting, and possibly ecologically significant, that the inflorescence structure of many of these grasses is digitate, like outstretched fingers.  In fact, many of these species are known as finger-grasses, or Digitaria.  The spikelets are often one-sided and compressed against the rachis. The same can not be said of most British and Northern European species, although of course there are many digitate species amongst those with more open panicles .

I found myself wishing over and over again that I’d paid more attention and taken visual notes when I was there in February.  Even little things like the way a grass blade discolours is so much easier to illustrate if you’ve seen it, and taken notes.

Dutchgrass or Crowsfoot Eleusine indica

Eleusine indica is also known as Indian wire-grass.

Montserrat grass species: Sourgrass Digitaria insularis

Sourgrass is a large, perennial grass that grows across the Americas.  It can be up to 4ft tall, and is a fast-growing and troublesome weed for farmers in South America; especially Brazil, Paraguay, and Bolivia.

Sour grass Digitaria insularis

Unlike lots of the other grasses on the list, Sourgrass has a loose raceme.  It grows on low open ground.

Although it’s seen as a weed in many places, I love this plant.  The flowering head is so elegant, and the swoop of the long leaf blades is a treat to illustrate.

Montserrat grass species: Lemongrass Cymbopogon citratus

Another species with a loose panicle is Lemongrass.  Yes, this is indeed the same plant that can be bought in grocery stores as a delicious cooking ingredient.  The part used is the base of the grass stem where the flavour is concentrated, although the whole plant smells lemony.

Leaves are quite long, and the base of the plant often bears a brown or reddish flush.

Lemongrass Cymbopogon citratus

Lemongrass is used in traditional medicine as well as cooking, treating digestive complaints.  There is some research that suggests it might also be of use in phytoremediation, where a plant helps remove toxins from polluted soil.

Montserrat grass species: Purple top Chloris barbata

Purple top is also known as Swollen fingergrass, Airport grass, Swollen windmill grass, or Purple chloris.  Originally from Africa and South-east Asia, it’s now pretty ubiquitous across the Americas.  It grows well on Montserrat, and in some places outcompetes other species.

Purple top Chloris barbata

The disadvantages associated with this plant aren’t directly relevant to Montserrat, as since the volcanic eruptions of the 1990s, there’s been little economically significant agriculture.  If this changes, the Purple top’s role as a host for pests of rice; and threat to sugarcane, tree crops like guava; and as an invasive on lawns may prove more problematic (CABI).

Inflorescence of Purple top

Although animals will graze on young plants, as it matures it becomes increasingly tough and is therefore no good as a pasture grass.

Single spikelet of Purple top

Irrelevant of its’ status, it was a lovely plant to illustrate.  The rich purples of the spikelets and the long awns made it a fabulous subject.

Montserrat grass species: Carpet grass Axonopus compressus

Carpet or Blanket grass is native to the Caribbean.  Although the grass flowers can reach 45cm, most of the vegetative growth is at low level.  The leaf blades are wide and green, and provide good ground cover.  It is used for lawns, and to help limit soil erosion.

Carpet grass Axonopus compressus

It can also be used medicinally, as a herbal bath and to cure heart problems (Medicinal plants of Guyana by DeFilipps). I am unsure if it’s used in this way on Montserrat.

Unlike Purple top, it’s good for grazing animals and doesn’t seem to have any negative effect on fruit crops (CABI).

Montserrat grass species: Jungle rice Echinochloa colona

This grass is another introduced species, originating in Africa and Asia.  I like it because of it’s geometry, and somewhat unusual flowering head.

The grains can be harvested and used as food when times are particularly tough, and it is the ancestor of Sawa millet.  In India, it is made into Khichdi, a dal eaten on fasting days or when you’re ill (click here for a recipe), and can be ground into a flour.

Jungle rice Echinochloa colona

Montserrat grass species: Bamboo grass Lasiacis divaricata

Bamboo grass is also known as Wild cane, Cane grass, and Tibisee.  It looks really unusual for a grass because of the broad leaves and the dark seeds, which resemble berries.

It’s a native species, favouring forests of broadleaf evergreens.  Although it grows in the undergrowth, it can also climb and grow amongst the trees.

Bamboo grass Lasiacis divaricata

Having a species with wider leaves, and shiny berry-like fruits, was a welcome change from the other grasses on the species list.  It looks more like bamboo than any other grass species I can think of.  Like bamboo, it grows from a woody stem.

It grows well in shady locations, and is used to provide ground cover.

Montserrat grass species: Sugar cane Saccharum officinarum

The last species of grass I want to focus on is Sugar cane Saccharum officinarum.  To call the history of this plant’s use contentious would be a gross understatement.  The growing and harvesting of sugarcane was the backbone of the trans Atlantic slave trade.  It was introduced to Montserrat in the 17th century, and the importation of enslaved peoples from Africa soon followed.  Montserrat has a large Irish population, some of who were plantation owners and merchants, and some of whom were themselves enslaved and worked with sugar cane.

In 1768 a group of Montserrat slaves revolted on St. Patrick’s Day.  Although the rebellion was unsuccessful, St, Patrick’s Day is still celebrated on the island, both for the Irish heritage and, I’m guessing, the bravery of those who rose up in 1768 (Fotbot).

Sugar cane Saccharum officinarum

This grass only thrives if tended by humans, and is delicious thanks to the high concentration of sucrose in the sap of the woody stem.  Native to New Guinea, it is now found across the tropics.  It is grown commercially in many places, and provides half the world’s cane sugar.  However, on Montserrat, sugar cane plantations ceased to be viable many decades ago (and long before the 1990s eruption of the Soufriere hills).

Detail of the panicle of sugar cane

Illustrating the complex panicles was a real challenge as the plant is large but each spikelet is tiny.  This meant representing the branches as irregular “twigs” rather than showing each flower.  The deep purple flush on the stem made up for this challenge though.  Many plants are flushed purple, but few grasses are as dramatically striped as the sugar cane.

Base of sugar cane stems

Other grasses

There were 12 grasses on the species list, so this is just a selection.  Guinea grass Megathyrsus maximus, Gophertail lovegrass Eragrostis cilarius, Crab grass Digitaria ciliaris, Dutchgrass Eleusine indica, and Seashore paspalum Paspalum vaginatum  also featured.

Guinea grass Megathyrsus maximus

As always, I was so pleased to be able to spend a few weeks researching and illustrating grasses species.  And to be doing it for the team I worked with at Montserrat National Trust and UKOTCF was a real treat.

I only wish I’d taken more notice of the grasses under my feet when I visited back in February!

Seashore paspalum Paspalum vaginatum with its beautiful purple stamens

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As ever, I want to point out that invasive species are not intrinsically “bad”, but are extremely successful plants.  And it is entirely our fault that they are growing so well in non-native habitats where natural competition and predation isn’t present, controlling their spread.

Introduction: A Botanical Invader in Our Midst

Imagine a plant so resilient that it can break through concrete, thrive in hostile environments, and regenerate from a mere fragment. Welcome to the world of Japanese Knotweed, the UK’s most unwelcome guest. Once a beloved ornamental newcomer from Japan, this plant has morphed into public enemy number one, infiltrating gardens and wild areas across the country with a villainous prowess akin to a supervillain in a cape.

Origins and Spread: From Beauty to Beast

Japanese Knotweed was first brought to the UK from Japan in the mid-19th century by botanist Philipp Franz von Siebold. Initially celebrated for its ability to provide quick cover with its dense canopies, it was used extensively in landscaping. However, its highly adaptive nature and robust rhizome system allowed it to thrive in diverse environments—from riverbanks to railway embankments—spreading far beyond intended confines. Its aggressive growth allows it to overpower native plants, erode biodiversity, and disrupt ecosystems.

Habit drawing of Japanese knotweed Fallopia japonica 

Identification Guide: Recognising the Threat

Effective management of Japanese Knotweed starts with accurate identification. Here are key identifiers:

Leaves: Broadly oval, flat, and sharply pointed at the tip, resembling a shield.

Stems: Hollow and jointed, similar to bamboo, with a distinct green colour speckled with purple.

Flowers: Small, creamy-white flowers appear in elongated clusters during late summer and early autumn.

Growth Pattern: Knotweed can grow up to 10 centimetres per day during the growing season, quickly forming dense thickets.

Ecological Impact: A Formidable Foe

Sketchbook study of Japanese knotweed

The ecological consequences of Japanese Knotweed are severe. It forms dense thickets that overshadow and outcompete native vegetation, leading to reduced biodiversity. Its extensive root system can damage foundations, walls, pavements, and flood defences, causing significant economic costs for remediation and repair. The plant is especially problematic in urban areas, where it can grow through concrete and asphalt, leading to costly damages to property and infrastructure.

For more information on the ecological impact of invasive species, you can refer to the Royal Horticultural Society.

Economic and Property Impacts

The presence of Japanese Knotweed can severely impact property values, often reducing them by as much as 10%. Sellers are legally required to declare its presence under the TA6 form used in property transactions. Failure to manage or disclose its presence can lead to legal disputes and potential liability for homeowners. Mortgage lenders often refuse loans on properties affected by Knotweed unless there is a professional management plan in place, complicating sales and affecting the housing market.

Root crown of Japanese knotweed

Homeowners have reported difficulty in securing mortgages due to the presence of Knotweed. Some lenders outright refuse to finance properties with known infestations, while others demand comprehensive treatment plans. This has led to situations where potential sales fall through, leaving homeowners with the financial burden of treatment and a devalued property.

For more details on how invasive plants can affect property transactions, the UK Government’s website provides valuable insights.

Professional Removal and Management

Eradicating Japanese Knotweed is complex and typically requires professional intervention. Treatment involves:

Chemical Control: Systemic herbicides are applied over several growing seasons to ensure the rhizomes are thoroughly killed. This method often requires repeated applications to be effective.

Physical Removal: Involves excavating the entire root system, which can extend deep into the ground. This process is labour-intensive and more costly but necessary for severe infestations.

Biological Control: Research is ongoing into natural predators that can help control Knotweed. For instance, the Japanese knotweed psyllid is being tested for its effectiveness in reducing the plant’s spread without harming native species.

For those facing issues with this invasive plant, professional intervention is crucial. More information can be found on knotweed removal services to understand the full scope of effective treatment options.

Community Initiatives and Public Awareness

Combating Japanese Knotweed is not just an individual concern but a community-wide effort. Public awareness and cooperation are crucial in controlling its spread. Local councils and environmental groups often conduct awareness campaigns and removal initiatives to control its spread. Public participation in reporting sightings and adhering to disposal guidelines is crucial to managing this invasive species effectively.

Education and awareness campaigns play a vital role in preventing the spread of Japanese Knotweed. These campaigns often focus on teaching people how to identify the plant and the importance of not disturbing or spreading it. For example, Knotweed fragments can easily be transported on footwear, vehicles, and equipment, leading to new infestations in previously unaffected areas.

Pollinators visiting the flowers of Japanese knotweed

Community-led initiatives, such as organised removal events and monitoring programs, can significantly contribute to controlling Knotweed. By working together, residents can share resources and knowledge, making it easier to manage infestations and prevent further spread. Collaboration with local authorities and professional removal services ensures that efforts are coordinated and effective.

Innovative Solutions and Future Prospects

Research into new methods of controlling Japanese Knotweed is ongoing, with promising developments in both chemical and biological control strategies. One area of focus is the development of more targeted herbicides that can effectively kill Knotweed while minimising harm to other plants and animals. Advances in biotechnology may also offer new solutions, such as genetically modified organisms that can specifically target Knotweed without affecting other species.

Stand of Japanese knotweed

Another innovative approach being explored is the use of biological control agents. One such agent is the psyllid insect, which feeds exclusively on Japanese Knotweed and has been released in controlled trials to assess its effectiveness in reducing the plant’s growth. This method, if successful, could provide a sustainable and environmentally friendly way to manage Knotweed infestations.

For a deeper dive into ongoing research, the Centre for Agriculture and Bioscience International (CABI) offers extensive resources on biological control measures and other scientific approaches to managing invasive species.

The Role of Property Owners in Managing Knotweed

Homeowners and property managers play a critical role in the fight against Japanese Knotweed. Early detection and swift action are key to preventing the plant from establishing a foothold. Property owners should regularly inspect their land for signs of Knotweed, particularly in areas where it has previously been found or is known to occur.

Once identified, it is crucial to act quickly and engage professional services to ensure thorough and effective eradication. DIY attempts are often insufficient and can lead to further spread of the plant. Professional services, such as those provided by experts in knotweed removal, offer tailored solutions to each unique situation, ensuring the best chance of complete removal.

Book on Japanese knotweed featuring my illustrations by Nicolas Seal

Conclusion: A Call to Action Against an Invasive Giant

The battle against Japanese Knotweed in the UK underscores the broader challenges of managing invasive species in a globalised world. It calls for vigilance, responsible management, and community cooperation to mitigate its impacts. As we advance in our methods to control this plant, the lessons learned can help inform the management of other invasive species and protect our natural and built environments for future generations.

By staying informed and proactive, property owners can play a pivotal role in controlling the spread of Japanese Knotweed. Working with experts and engaging in community efforts will not only protect individual properties but also contribute to the wider effort to preserve the UK’s biodiversity and landscape integrity. Together, we can tackle this green invader and safeguard our environment for future generations.

Japanese knotweed Fallopia japonica seedling

The post Unearthing the Enigma: Japanese Knotweed’s Unstoppable March appeared first on Lizzie Harper.

Song thrush

The Song thrush Turdus philomelos can live in the UK year round or migrate from northern Europe.  It is neatly proportioned and has a cream chest speckled with dark heart shaped marks which pale towards the belly.  The back, tail, and wings are brown. tail.  Uunderwings are yellowish cream, the beak is yellow and the legs are pinkish.  Male and females look the same and share this warm colouration.

The fluidity of the Song thrush’s song explains its name.  They start singing in January or February and sing through the summer, favouring perches a few feet from the ground.  Click here to hear the song.  Starting early and finishing late, they repeat phrases two to four times. The song can be heard up to half a mile away.

Song thrush Turdus philomelos

Another way to identify the Song thrush is from the piles of broken snail shells.  Whacking the unfortunate mollusc on a favoured stone, the tap-tapping of a thrush eating snails is as much an indicator of its presence in our gardens as its song.

Originally a bird of woodland, they have adapted to life in gardens and farms.  The recent increase in pesticide use that accompanies intensive agriculture is blamed for the decrease in their population, especially in farmland.  They are now a red list species.  The RSPB Song thrush Turdus philomelos site has a good overview of the species

Thrush Turdus philomelos nesting in a garden shed

Mistle thrush

The Mistle thrush Turdus viscivorus is larger than the Song thrush.   It tends to sit in an erect position and looks fatter and rounder than its cousin.  The greyish or silvery back and head give a cooler colour scheme.  It has a grey chin and may have pale cheek stripes.  Like the Song thrush, it  has chest speckles, but these markings are darker and are round not pointed.  The Mistle thrush is less rufous and has white underwings and tail edges.  It has a yellow beak and its legs are yellow not pink.

Mistle thrushes perch high up in trees to sing and often do so loudly before bad weather.  This explains the colloquial name of “Stormcock”.  Like the Song thrush they start singing early in the year and sing from dawn and dusk.  Their song is in a minor key and sounds rather stop-start.  They also have a raucous call like an old-fashioned football rattle.  Click here to listen to some recordings of its song.

Visitors to gardens and parks as well as farmland, Mistle thrush have an upright bobbing way of ground foraging.  They defend berry-laden trees from other birds, and can be highly territorial.  Their name refers to their fondness for mistletoe berries and they are important seed dispersers for the species.

For more, visit the RSPB Mistle thrush Turdus viscivorus page.

To tell the Song and Mistle thrush apart, have a look at this BTO and Nature Guides video.

Blackbird

The Blackbird Turdus merula is a common garden visitor across the UK, except in treeless highland areas.  With over 5 million pairs,  the resident population is swelled in winter by visitors from northern Europe. Unlike other Thrushes, the male has no mottling on its chest but is glossy black all over, with egg-yolk yellow beak and legs.  The large eyes are ringed yellow.  Juveniles and females are browner and streaked with a darker shade on the chest.  The beaks, legs and eye-rings of females are paler yellow.

Blackbird Turdus merula

Blackbirds have a beautiful flowing song, and sing from dawn til dusk on high perches, defending their territories.  The song may incorporate surrounding noises like sirens.  To hear some examples of Blackbird song click here.  They are  monogamous and may mate for life although infidelity is common.

Blackbird Turdus merula eating Holly berries

Blackbirds feed at ground level, hopping along and cocking their heads to one side to listen out for worms.  You can see them turning over leaves looking for beetles and woodlice.  Primarily insectivores, they are also happy to eat fruit and seeds, and feed from bird tables.  Although they generally live 2 to 3 years, captive birds have been known to live to 20!

For more information, take a look at the RSPB Blackbird Turdus merula site.

Fieldfare

Fieldfare Turdus pilaris are winter visitors, coming south from northern Europe.  They flock, sometimes in groups up to 200 strong, and devour berries from hedgerows and trees.  Sometimes the flocks are only Fieldfare but they also throng with Redwing, Mistle thrushes and Blackbirds.  Fieldfare favour hawthorn, Yew and Juniper.

Larger than the Blackbird, they have blue-grey heads and black eye bands.  They have black tails, grey rumps and a reddish brown back.  Their bellies are pale while their yellowish chests are marked with dark brown and black.  They have yellow beaks tipped with black and brown or black legs.  Their chests are flushed yellow.

Fieldfare Turdus pilaris

Fieldfare are insectivores and can be seen hopping about on the ground with a distinctive upright stance.  They also eat berries and only visit gardens in cold weather.  Favoured habitats are hedgerows and open farmland, dotted with trees.  Migrants arrive in October and stay until the following spring.  They mate for one season, switching partners for the following year.

Fieldfare Turdus pilaris pair in Hawthorn

Unlike the Blackbird and Song and Mistle Thrushes, they do not have a melodious song.  The males chatter with a rather rasping call.  To hear Fieldfare calls click on the link.

For more on Fieldfare, visit RSPB Fieldfare Turdus pilaris

Redwing

Another winter migrant from the north, Redwing Turdus iliacus travel in flocks of up to 50 birds, during day and at night.  You may hear their high pitched whirring “tzeeee” song in the dark as a group travel overhead.  Click here to hear some Redwing calls.

They eat fruit and berries like the Fieldfare but are shy and harder to spot.  Both species will flock together in berry-rich hedgerows, grasslands, fields of stubble, and orchards.  They are unlikely to visit gardens unless conditions are very cold, when mealworms or apples might tempt them to a feeder.  Although they prefer invertebrates found in the leaf litter; hawthorn, ivy and juniper berries are an important part of their diet.

Redwing Turdus iliacus

Redwing are smaller than the other thrushes and  have pale chests mottled with pale brown markings,  These are shaped like downwards pointing arrows.  Their backs, tails and rumps are brown, and the nape of the neck is flushed orange.  They have dark eye stripes and a pale eyebrow above.  Distinctive brown cheek patches, a brown moustache, a white throat and yellow beak tipped black complete the look.  The most obvious colouring is the bright orange flash on the armpit and underwing, hence the name.  This can be seen at rest as well as in flight.  Females and males are alike but juveniles are paler and lack the orange wings and flanks.  Redwing legs are a dingy pink.

Detail of the underwing of the Redwing Turdus iliacus

A very few pairs breed in northern Scotland, most breed much further north.  Monogamous during the mating season, they choose a new partner each year. They nest very close to, or on the ground.

Learn more at RSPB Redwing Turdus iliacus

Ring Ouzel

The final thrush seen regularly in the UK is the Ring ouzel Turdus torquatus.  It is smaller and more slender than the blackbird and is found in northern uplands and heath.  These birds overwinter in southern Europe and northern Africa and return to the UK to breed in the summer.

Ring ouzel eat worms, beetle larvae, insects and the occasional unfortunate lizard.  Bilberries, cowberries, Rowan and Elderberry are also important foodstuffs,  Juniper berries are so important to the bird in autumn that migration routes are set according to the abundance of these berries.

Ring ouzel have bark brownish black plumage with a distinctive white bib and neck ring.  This may edge into the wings.  Some of the feathers have pale edges, and although both sexes are similar the female is browner with less distinct white areas.  It has a yellow beak and brown legs.  Sometimes the white bib may not be obviouswhich can make it easy to confuse with the Blackbird.  To tell them apart, take a look at this BTO video.

Males sing from prominent crags and outcrops to declare territory, and their song feels lonesome.  It also has a harsher rattling call and a nocturnal one that can be heard when they migrate.   To hear the Ring ouzel, click here.

Ring ouzel Turdus torquatus

The Ring ouzel nests in ground vegetation or cracks in stones.  Despite having a healthy population across much of Europe, in the UK the bird is on the conservation Red list.  This is because of habitat loss leading a population drop of 60% between 1990 and 1999 (Birdfact).

For more on this species, take a look at RSPB Ring Ouzel Turdus torquatus

Conclusion

Online sources for this blog on UK thrushes include the Countryfile guide to Thrushes, Shropshire Wildlife Trust, the British Trust for Ornithology, the British Naturalist’s Association guide to thrushes, and the excellent Birdfacts guide to thrushes.  For more of my bird illustrations please visit the online gallery.

The post British Thrush Species appeared first on Lizzie Harper.

The show is on until January 2023 at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London (the V&A).  A few months back, they commissioned me to film myself painting a Red Admiral butterfly, and this was used as a trail to encourage visits to this wonderful exhibition.

Me illustrating a Red Admiral Vanessa atalanta butterfly

The exhibition, Beatrix Potter: Drawn to Nature is full of sketches, specimens, and original items owned by and drawn by Potter.  There’s masses of related material available to view online, including a link to her first sketchbook, kept when she was only 8.  Articles on what inspired her, an online version of the show, blogs on how she worked, who she was, her Lake district, and an online version of  The Roly Poly Pudding are all available to view.

You can also browse the V&A collections page online, and see more than 2,600 objects, articles, features and collections relating to her work.

Most, but not all of the images in this blog can be seen in the exhibition.  And if you go, you will certainly find any number of wonderful things to look at that don’t feature in this blog.

Peter Rabbit Books

Beatrix Potter kept animals her whole life, and drew them obsessively.  This can be seen in the paintings of rabbits, mice, squirrels, and frogs in her “Tales of Peter Rabbit” books.  Even in hats and clothes; baking, reading newspapers, or getting into mischief, you can see the accuracy in her depiction of these creatures.  That’s why the illustrations work so well.

Illustration for p.53 of “The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies” by Beatrix Potter © British Museum

Her sketches directly inform her story book illustrations.  Just compare these studies of the face of a Hedgehog with her illustration of the character of Mrs. Tiggywinkle.

Head studies of a hedgehog by Beatrix Potter © V&A

Mrs Tiggywinkle by Beatrix Potter

Insect illustrations

Beatrix Potter drew insects too.  I love her collection of bee studies, all on one sheet.  Recently, I tackled  an illustration of a Garden bumble bee Bombus hortorum.  I understand how difficult it can be to make them “look right”.  But these ones are perfect.  Somehow she combines accuracy with a real lightness of touch.  As someone who tends to overwork their illustrations, this is a skill I’d love to emulate.

Bee illustrations by Beatrix Potter © V&A

Potter was adept at more detailed insect illustrations, too.  She was good at drawing through the microscope, and produced many meticulous illustrations, including this one of a ground beetle.

Studies of Carabus nemoralis by Beatrix Potter © V&A

Illustrations of bats

Bats are notoriously tricky to draw.  Their faces look odd to us, often seemingly distorted to allow for echolocation.  The texture of their wings, thin and fragile yet incredibly supple and strong, is hard to capture on the page.  Over the years I’ve been asked to illustrate loads of bats, and have never been overjoyed with the results.  Even when I work from real specimens.

Bechstein’s bat Myotis bechsteinii

Potter’s bat studies, which are clearly done from life, are inspirational.  In the illustration below it’s the texture of the wings that I think is particularly good.  I also love the second angle she’s chosen to use which isn’t an easy proposition.

Bats by Beatrix Potter © V&A

I also love the studies of the bat whilst not in flight.  On one sheet she combines colour studies and drawings of the bat skull and skeleton.  She and her brother kept bats as pets, and when their pets died, she kept their skeletons.  In fact, in the V&A’s current exhibition you can see the pelt of her pet rabbit, the animal immortalized in “The Tale of Peter Rabbit”!

Studies of a Bat and its skeleton by Beatrix Potter © V&A

Illustrations of Mice

Potter kept pet mice too, and her studies of these little, active mammals are excellent.  They’re another of the animals in her Peter Rabbit Books that always look perfect and mouse-like, even when wearing mob-caps or wielding a poker.

Her wood mouse watercolour is just wonderful, and I’ve referred to it on several occasions when completing my own natural history illustrations.

Beatrix Potter Wood Mouse Apodemus sylvaticus © V&A

Wonderfully, as a life-long fan of the Tales of Peter Rabbit, I was delighted to find that the exhibition also had some of the things Beatrix Potter drew for her stories.  The waistcoat from “The Tailor Of Gloucester”, stitched by mice, was there.  It turns out she drew a waistcoat she saw in the V&A for reference.  And, of course, the V&A still own the self-same waistcoat.  “The Tailor of Gloucester” is what our family all read on Christmas eve, so this inclusion had extra meaning for me.

Waistcoat from the V&A collection © V&A

Illustrations of Fungi

So Potter’s animal illustrations are wonderful.  Accurate, and alive.  But what of plants and fungus?

I knew she had worked extensively with fungi, and, had she not been a woman living in Victorian times, her work would have been received with greater favour by the eminent male naturalists of the day.  I’ve heard lots of mycologists suggest that many of her illustrations of fungus are yet to be bettered.

Examples of Fungi by Beatrix Potter © V&A

In her study of the Fly agaric above, there’s something almost perfect about the textures.  The brittle delicacy of the gills is captured with skill, and I love the way she suggests the grass, soil and remnants of the universal veil at the base of the agaric.

Study of Mushrooms by Beatrix Potter © V&A

Another example shows that she understood the biology of fungus too.  The entire growth of the fruiting body is caught here, elegantly, on one sheet of paper.  Coupled with the capture of the shine and little markings on the cap, it makes for a beautiful, informative, and accurate illustration.

Illustrations of Plants

Not surprisingly, there were less botanical illustrations on show in the exhibition than of animals, and fungi.  That doesn’t mean she couldn’t draw them though, far from it.

Her quick sketch of the Sea holly, shows an understanding of the architecture of the plant.  Again, she manages to capture its movement and life.  You can almost feel the wind on the shore, where it grows.

Study of Sea holly Eryngium maritimum by Beatrix Potter © V&A

In comparison, my illustration of the same plant may be more detailed, but is no more Sea-holly-ish than her quick watercolour sketch.  In fact, I think her colours are a lot closer to reality.

Sea holly Eryngium maritimum

Another of her botanical illustrations that blew me away may well be my favouite image from the exhibition.  Beatrix Potter’s sheet of White waterlilies capture the plant exactly.  It also captures the feel of the pond below, clogged with roots and leaves.  Of the crowded habit of the leaves, and the changing colours of each pad.

The flowers are equally magnificent.  No-one enjoys painting white flowers (see my blog on this for more, and for tips), but she’s used the leaves and the background to depict them without muddying the white petals.  She’s also included the flower in different stages of its blooming.  And as for the way she’s caught the reflection on the water surface on the right hand side…  Honestly.  It’s a tour de force.  Completed with typical modest accuracy.

Waterlilies by Beatrix Potter © V&A

Conclusion

All these glorious works inspire me.  I love them.  I also loved learning more about the woman, her childhood, and her later days farming and giving enormous tracts of Lake district land to the National Trust.  Seeing her childhood drawings, her sketchbooks, some of her collection of animal bones.  Of course, I also loved the sketches and original illustrations from The Peter Rabbit tales.  But there’s so much more to Beatrix Potter than that.  The woman is a massive inspiration to me, and a legend.

Visit the exhibition before it ends in early January.  It’s not to be missed.

The post Beatrix Potter: Illustrator and Inspiration appeared first on Lizzie Harper.

This job was a challenge, and also a very flattering commission.

The Brief

John sent me the working document, along with a list of suggestions of what plants he and Mike would like included.  So far so good.  Ideally, it’ll be one illustration as a heading for each chapter.  Different chapters discuss different informal classes of plant.  So the species list was, as John put it, “Pteridophytes, Gymnosperms, and Angiosperms but certainly, if we can, splitting Angiosperms into Pre-dicots, Eu-dicots and Monocots. If possible then Pteridophytes should be split into Lycoptytes, Calamophytes and two classes of Fern.”

Each of these informal classes requires one illustration to represent them, and their most prevalent or importatnt members in the county of Brecknockshire.

The Challenge of the layout

However, the spaces envisioned for the illustrations were really tricky.  Most plants grow vertically, therefore a good layout would be portrait format.  For the flora, almost all needed to fit into a long, thin, horizontal box.

The colourful rectangle shows the space where the botanical illustration will sit

For some species this wasn’t too tough.  Any aquatic plants can be illustrated floating.  Other ways to tackle the problem include showing two plants from the same class next to one another, as I did with the waterlilies.

White & Yellow waterlily Nymphaea alba & Nuphar luteum

Researching the species

John was excellent in his support when it came to researching species. Many of the plants were familiar, so I could easily get good reference myself.

But some, such as the stonewort and hornworts were rather more challenging.  He lent me reference books and pointed me to many useful sites where I could access both written information and illustrations and photos.

Delicate Stonewort Chara virgata

Pinpointing the differences between species of Mare’s tail, Equisetum, was also tough.  For this image, we had three Equisetum in the image, from those favouring wet habitats to those liking it dry.  So a combination of habitat preference and plant i.d.

Calamophyte horsetails Equisetum arvense E. palustre E. fluviatile

The process of completing the illustrations

As always, before adding colour to the illustrations I sent over pencil line drawing roughs.  If these are given the go-ahead, it’s just a matter of adding colour.  However, submitting them at this stage allows changes to be made without too much impact.

There were a few changes, mostly in a very complicated illustration used for the chapter opening of the “Ferns” section.

John needed several ferns in one image, growing from a stone wall.

Initial pencil rough showing Leptosporangiate, Maidenhair, and Male ferns growing from a wall

On seeing it he decided to tweak the species, and asked the wall to be moved to an angle, with the ferns along it.  The smallest fern would be closest to us.  the largest, the bulky Shield fern (a replacement for the Male fern), was to be at the end of the wall.

Second pencil rough: Leptosporangiate Maidenhair spleenwort, Polypoidy, and Soft shield fern

Although this was an improvement, John wanted to include tree ferns.  He asked the Polypoidy ferns to be moved into a tree, and to be replaced with Wall rue.  So I had one last crack at it.  By this time I was starting to feel a little desperate.  I don’t really love painting ferns even at the best of times as they’re so fiddly (see my blogs: Illustrating Bracken and ferns and Illustrating Lower plants in a churchyard) so these re-draws were exasperating.

Third pencil rough: Leptosporangiatee Maidenhair spleenwort, Wall Rue, and Soft shield fern

This time we had success, and I could go ahead and get some colour onto the illustration.  Even this was challenging, trying to suggest the ferns growing in a distant tree was difficult, and I got quite lost in amongst the greys of the stone wall.

Leptosporangiate ferns: Maidenhair spleenwort Wall rue Soft shield fern

Favourites

There was so much variety in this job.  Illustrating The Brecknockshire flora was a lot of fun.  Along with the waterlilies (shown above), another of my favourites was the Cuckoo flower Cardamine pratensis.

Cuckoo flower or Ladies smock Cardamine pratensis

Luckily, this one is the county flower for Brecknockshire, and was allocated a full page.  And a portrait format!

My other two favourites were definitely the assortment of plants that featured in the Eudicot and Monocot chapters.  They were such a joy.  Lots of variety, and I got to play with composition.  I even germinated my very own seedlings to be sure I got the details right.

Monocot plant variety

The Eudicots were equally fun, although tougher because of the venation on the leaves.  This isn’t normally a challenge, but when the illustration is very small it becomes rather finickity.

Eudicot plant variety with eudicot seedling

Conclusion

Illustrating the Brecknockshire flora was a great job.  There was the perfect mixture of easy bits and challenges.  It made me think, both botanically (getting the plants right) and artistically (sorting out that challenging format).  It also taught me a lot more about the plants that grow in my county.

I very much look forward to seeing it published next year, both as a book and as an online PDF.

The post The Brecknockshire Flora appeared first on Lizzie Harper.

Reed bed with Raptors: Eurasian hobby on the left, Kestrel in the centre

Raptors

All birds of prey are also known as raptors but that description also covers eagles, hawks, harriers, buzzards, kites, falcons, owls, and ospreys.

Kites and Buzzards are similar medium-to-large raptors that may take live prey but mostly feed on insects or carrion (dead animals). They are the most common birds of prey that we may see in the countryside. Kites can be distinguished by their slightly longer wings and forked tail. Both may ‘hover’ against the wind, but generally they soar on thermals or search for prey from perches in trees or on telephone poles.

Red Kite

The Red Kite Milvus milvus, which in Medieval Britain once scoured the streets of London, was close to extinction in the 1930s.  Luckily, initial protection of a small population in Mid wales was successful. More recently; captive breeding, re-introduction and feeding stations have now seen its populations re-established in most of the UK.  For more on rescuing the Red kite population in Wales, check out the British Bird of Prey Centre’s post.  The Red Kite is known in Wales as Barcud, which is a popular name for a number of Welsh enterprises including housing associations, and a film production company.

It’s penchant for eating carrion earned it the colloquial name of “Shite-hawk” in olden days, and these birds are often seen looking for road kill along motorways.

Red kite Milvus milvus

Common Buzzard

The Common Buzzard Buteo buteo is a native bird that now breeds in every county in the UK.  It is an opportunistic feeder, taking everything from earthworms to small rabbits, and ranges over a wide range of habitats. Buzzards pair for life but will change nest sites frequently even within a single year. They love to soar on thermals and can be seen in large numbers doing so in suitable sites.  However, they will fiercely defend their own territories and nest sites.

In the Spring the young males will put on acrobatic aerial displays, known as “roller-coasting”, to impress females. This involves soaring upwards and then plummeting down; twisting and turning as it descends. Like the Red Kite they have a plaintiff  ‘mewing’ call.  This is recognised in their Welsh name Boncath or Bwncath, ‘cath’ being Welsh for cat. Native populations may be augmented by passage migrant populations at certain times of year.  These migrant species include the Rough-Legged and Honey Buzzard species that may be difficult to differentiate from the Common Buzzard.  Complicating matters further, the Common buzzard  itself has a variable appearance.

Common buzzard Buteo buteo

Both Buzzards and Kites are regularly attacked by crow species whose nests they may predate. The crows seem to regard them as an enemy at all times and will often pursue and harass them even outside of the breeding season, sending up ‘fighters’ at the first sign of their flight overhead.

Kestrel

The Kestrel is a smaller falcon that also takes small mammals and insects. It generally hunts by  ‘hovering’ over areas of suitable prey habitat, and then dropping on its prey – largely voles and mice.  A kestrel can ‘see’ near ultra-violet light, which allows it detect urine trails around small mammal burrows. It is estimated that they need to catch between 4-8 voles a day.  These fuel their hovering sort of flight, with rapidly beating their wings, and which uses considerable energy.

The name kestrel is derived from a French word ‘crecelle’, which was a bell carried by lepers (sufferers from leprosy) to warn people to stay away. Kestrels were once used to drive pigeons away from crops. Their other common names are ‘windhover’ or ‘wind f***er’.

Kestrel Falco tinnuculus in hovering flight

Its scientific name is Falco tinnuculus. Falco derives from ‘falcil’ which we know as a sickle, and refers to their hook-shaped claws. ‘Tinnuculus’ is from ‘tinnulus’ or shrill, which refers to the bird’s cry. In Welsh it is known as Cudyll Coch or the Red Merlin, to distinguish it from the rarer Cudyll Bach or Merlin which is also found in upland areas.

Kestrel Falco tinnuculus

Although the Kestrel is found in upland areas; it can also commonly seen alongside motorways, hovering over adjoining grass verges. Populations appear to have declined in recent years but the causes of this have not been established. Habitat reduction is one factor, and landowners keen to offer suitable habitat should provide grassy cover for small mammals.

So next time you see a bird of prey hovering above, have a look to see which it might be.  the Red kite with its distinctive forked tail, the Buzzard with yellow legs and blunter wings; or the Kestrel whose rounded wings, reddish colour, and straight tail make it an easy one to spot.

Malham tarn landscape with Kestrel on the right and another bird of prey, the Peregrine falcon, on the left

The post Buzzards, Kites and Kestrels appeared first on Lizzie Harper.

I was lucky enough to be asked to do the illustrations.  Not only am I really excited to be associated with this timely and fascinating book, but the fact that Ben is a local author is also very pleasing.

Cover of The Treeline by Ben Rawlence

The Treeline: Species list

Trees tough enough to survive in such northerly climates are not too numerous.  This means the number of species needing illustrating is limited.  Each species needs a picture of the tree itself, and an assortment of its leaves, cones, flower, and fruit.

Some are familiar, and feel like old friends.  I’m thinking of the Rowan Sorbus aucuparia, Scots pine Pinus sylvestris, Hazel Corylus avellana and Juniper Juniperus communis.  I was able to re-use some of the illustrations completed for The Living Wisdom of Trees by Fred Hageneder, thanks to an arrangement made with its publisher.

Scots pine Pinus sylvestris

In total, there are 16 species which appear in the northern boreal forests (and in the book!)  The fact that I was surprised to find some growing so far north reflects holes in my botanical knowledge.  I didn’t expect to see Aspen Populus tremuloides, Balsam poplar Populus balsamifera, Alder Alnus glutinosa, or Crack willow Salix fragilis on the list.

Being asked to do the illustrations

Unusually, Ben approached me himself.  Normally commissioning of artwork for books is done through an art editor.  I know Ben slightly as my other half has made a wonderful desk for him in the past.  So when Ben got in touch to ask if I’d be interested in illustrating his books as I was “the only illustrator he knows”, I jumped at the chance.  How fortunate that the only illustrator he knows also happens to have illustrated several books on trees!  It was meant to be.  It was good to have Ben as my commissioner as he knew exactly what features to emphasize in the illustrations.

Inking up the pencil rough of Downy birch Betula pubescens

The Treeline: Tough trees in difficult conditions

Many of the trees growing at this northern limit of the boreal forests are small and stunted by the cold.  This condition occurs across species, and is know as Krummhloz. Trees can only grow close to the ground, or beneath snow.  This is cause the arctic winds above are so damaging.  Resulting trees are often thick at a lower level.  Emergent branches and trunks are spindly, sparse, and thin.

I try to include aspects of this in the illustrations, but make sure the trees still look species specific.  In reality, the sprawling lower vegetation is more pronounced.  Perhaps I err on the side of drawing more species-typical specimens.

Black Spruce Picea marinara tree

Comparisons

Some of the trees need to be compared so that the subtle differences between species can be clarified.  This is tricky.  You’re trying to work with reference of trees from this particular habitat, often with Krummholz.  Details have to be botanically correct.  The Black and White spruce are particularly difficult to untangle, not least cause sometimes the image reference online is attributed to the wrong species!

White spruce Picea glauca

The cones are very different, but differences between female flowers in these two are hard to pinpoint.  Luckily, the male flowers are simpler.  White spruce ones grow erect, but they’re pendulous in Black spruce.

Black spruce Picea mariana

The Treeline: Drawing conifers vs Deciduous trees

Drawing a deciduous tree is harder than drawing a conifer.  With Pine and Spruce and Larch, you represent the needles with lots of tiny ink lines.  The tonality is easy to work into, and the textures flow readily from the pen.

Siberian larch Larix sibirica

Deciduous trees are more nebulous.  Shadows cast by elliptical or lobed leaves are less predictable, and giving the impression of depth and thickness of vegetation is far harder.  It’s easy to make the edges of the foliage too crisp, or to fail to balance internal shadows.

Downy Birch Betula pubescens

However, when it comes to leaves, fruit, and flowers the situation is reversed.  Give me a catkin over a larch strobilus any day!

Dahurian larch Larix gmelinii strobilus and male flowers

The learning curve with the conifers is a steep one.  I understand the anatomy of cones, but for this job I had to learn about strobilus and the different male and female flowering structures of conifers.  “You should know this already!” I hear you cry, “having illustrated lots of Pine and Spruce trees before!”  And you’re right.  But I don’t.

Downy birch Betula pubescens fruiting catkins

For more on the Downy birch, check out my  blog and youtube film showing me inking up the catkins and leaves in real time and discussing my processes.

The Treeline: Layout

Ben and the team want the details of each tree to sit together neatly on the page.  I provided them with all the different elements separately, and in one layout.  As it turns out (and as expected) the design team alter my layouts, but this is fine with me. The laying out  is actually quite fun.  I love how much smarter the illustrations look when surrounded by a border, and annotated.  Even though my layouts weren’t used in the book, I know it’s given suggestions to the designers that may prove useful.

Dahurian larch Larix gmelinii cones

And here are the same cones along with the other accompanying illustrations

Dahurian larch Larix gmelinii details

Conclusion

I haven’t been able to read the book yet, but can’t wait to get my hands on a copy.  There are a lot of books coming out which focus on the environment, and how climate change and man are altering the natural balance.  Although it can feel depressing, I truly believe these messages need to get out there.  The variety of habitats which are being changed is as diverse as life itself, and I’m keen to know more about the northern edge of the arboreal forest, and the dangers the climate emergency are causing.  This extraordinary forest even appeared on David Attenborough’s latest series, “The Green Planet” in the “Seasonal |World’s” episode, and seeing film of the snow covered trees was wonderful, and strangely moving.  Here’s rather a good review from The Guardian newspaper.

Larch Larix decidua or europea

Illustrating A Life on Our Planet by David Attenborough, and another upcoming title on the importance and fragility of life on earth (“The Hidden Universe” by director of Kew Gardens Alexandre Antonelli); I feel like I’m somehow involved in a small way in getting these messages out to the public.  And that matters to me.  It makes me proud to be associated with important and timely books like The Treeline by Ben Rawlence.

Here’s the film about illustrating the catkins and leaves of the Downy Birch:

The post The Treeline – Book Illustrations appeared first on Lizzie Harper.

I recently completed an illustration of Bracken Pteridium aquilinum for a forthcoming Field Studies Council Guide to the flora of Woodlands.  I thought this was the perfect chance to explain the process.

Drawing bracken and Pencil roughs

Bracken is a large plant, some plants stretch to over 2m tall.  The leaves or fronds are sub divided, and each division is divided again.  this is called being tri-pinnate.  And it’s beastly to draw!  Reducing this complexity and size to a sheet of A4 paper is a challenge.

I took two approaches, and drew two versions.  One had the bracken in a clump, as it grows in the wild.

Bracken rough 1

The second shows two separate fronds and made more of the root structure.  This meant working from photos as well as filling my studio with bracken.  Photos are mighty useful for reducing a plant to a manageable size.  However, to guarantee getting the botanical detail correct, you need the plant itself, or at least close up photos.  (For more on working form photo reference, check out my blog).  The client chose this second rough, which I think was the right choice.

Bracken rough 2

Adding colour

So you have your pencil drawing ready yo go.  Surely this is where the hard work begins?  Well, no.

The very fact that the drawing of the bracken was so difficult now works in your favour.  there’s an enormous amount of detail in the drawing.  this means that there are very few large expanses of colour.  It’s these areas that end up needing the hard work.  They require attention to show the lights and darks, and to add texture.

With complicated structures like the bracken, you need do far less to get a good result.

First step is to mix the right green.  In this case I’m using Winsor and Newton watercolour paints.  To get the right green, it’s a mix of Cadmium yellow light, purple, Yellow ochre, Sap green, Cobalt green, and some greenish blue like Pthalo.   Keep mixing until it matches the frond in your hand.

Then all you do is go over your pencil lines with a thin and confident paintbrush line.  Brushes that hold their tips well, like my beloved Winsor & Newton series 7 (number 1) are ideal.  To make sure your lines are crisp, work on a smooth, hot-press paper.  Currently, I’m loving Fluid 100.

Bracken illustration with leaf edges outlined in green. Areas remaining to be outlined will be done in a slightly lighter shade of green.

If you want to add a little extra dimension to the illustration, you can mix two greens.  Make one somewhat lighter than the other.  I do this by adding yellow.  Then choose which side of your frond is the lighter.  Outline these leaves in the same way as before, but this time with the lighter shade. Keep the side of leaf which is lighter consistent across the plant, but be aware it may “flip” as you cross the main stem of the frond.

Tackling stems

You can put in the stems whenever you feel like it.  Sometimes I add them quite early as it ties the illustration together.  Mix a slightly brownish yellow-green.  Outline the stems, with a little more weight to the right side of each stem.  Then dilute your mix with water to make it paler.  Once the stem outlines are dry, paint over the stems with this dilute mix.  You should have stems which look a little darker on the right hand side.  Again, this adds to the feeling of light and shade in the illustration.

Once dry, you may want to add other colours to the stem.  For bracken, this would include the dark brown which appears at the base of the stems.  This needs to be included as it’s species specific.  other ferns may have flaky scales at the base of their stems.  Be sure to include these if they’re present.

Stem completed, returning to the leaves.

Adding body colour to the fronds

Once the outlines are dry, you can add colour.  Mix up a more watery green than before.  Tackling one side of each frond at a time, just paint this on top of your fern.  Allow the paint to be nice and wet.  As it dries, it’ll add its own crisp edges to your outlines and sharpen up the illustration.  Be sure not to do both sides at once.  If the wet paint runs into other areas, it wont look as sharp when it dries.

In the illustration below, the top of the fronds on left hand side have been outlined in a slightly darker green.  The top wash is also been a little darker.  The opposite side of each leaf has a lighter and slightly more yellow colour.  This difference in colour tricks the eye into thinking that the two sides are slightly curled upwards, with one side casting its shadow on the other.  it makes the plant look less flat.

On the other side of the main stem (rachis), flip the pattern of shadows.

I’ve also added some darker green to the areas of the stem which overlap.  Again, this is to add depth to the illustration.

Top washes on the fern are drying

Where the fronds of the bracken leaf overlap, I’ve picked out the shadows in a darker shade of green.  I mix this by adding browns, blues, or purples to the mix.  Be careful with this darker shade, you want it to represent shadow, not to look like the main colour of the plant.

Adding Shadows

Once completely dry, you can add even more definition to the fern by picking out your darkest darks with really quite a deep colour.  I tend to use a mix of purple with cobalt blue.  Be judicious with these dark shades, and remember you’re adding them to add tonality and clarity, not just to muddy and darken the picture.

You can also add the same colour to pick out the darkest shadows on the roots.

Completed Bracken illustration with darkest darks added.

Finished!

And really, that’s it.  If the differences between the sides of the leaves looks too stark, you can add a dilute green top wash to unify them.  If they look too pale, revisit and add another layer of wet green.

Compared to the huffing and puffing involved in getting the leaves of something like a rose or a hazel illustrated, this is a walk in the park.

The drawing is definitely challenging.  But when it comes to the “colouring in”, the intricate details turn our to be your allies.

Bracken Pteridium aquilinum with detail

Other examples

Below are some other examples of ferns done using the exact same approach.

The Hard fern has also had the blunt leaf tips darkened a little with a we-tish mix of cobalt blue.

Hard fern Blechnum spicant

The Male scaly fern (below) has also had a darker shadow laid along the right hand side of the central axis.  This helps draw the eye up the plant.  You can see the same approach we discussed above clearly.  The top of each small frond is darker on one side than the other.  And once you cross the central axis, that pattern flips.

Scaly male fern Dryopteris affinis

With the Maidenhair spleenwort below, a midrib was added to each leaf.  Each leaf was outlined.  It had a midrib painted in.  A flat top-wash of green was added.  And that was it.  In this example I didn’t even need to play about with lighter or darker shades of green.  I just made the leaves at the back of the plant darker by popping a blueish brown shadow on them.

Maidenhair spleenwort Asplenuum trichomanes

Feel free to give it a try.  You might be surprised by how easy it is.  As the for the drawing of any ferns though, I’m afraid that part of the job is just really hard work!

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