Nature spots on winter walks
And when is a bramble a bramble?
Dear reader, Happy New Year! So, how have you enjoyed the festive season? Have you ventured back out into the world? I must admit, I’m not quite ready yet. It’s winter, and I want to hibernate. But I made myself go for a walk up my favourite path - and I’m glad I did.
It’s January, nature is sleeping. All around is dark, brown and dun, wintery and brittle. Trees make interesting shapes, it’s a good time to look at bare branches and observe the naked, unclothed trunks. The sun is low and the light is thin. I went out for the BSBI New Year’s Day Plant Hunt. Pickings were slim as far as flowering plants go, less than last year - a surprise given the mild weather in the run up to Christmas. I found groundsel, chickweed, a solitary bramble and trailing bell flower. Dandelions of course and - no surprise - green alkanet (which, confusingly, is blue) an invasive, pervasive plant which seems to survive everything. If it’s taken root, nothing can stop it, and no matter what the weather, you’re pretty much guaranteed to find flowers. But there are other things look at in winter. When I don’t spot flowers, I look at everything else. Ivy grows up the naked tree trunks - dark, glossy, green. The flowers are finished but leave interesting fruiting structures, star shaped sputniks, berries ripening to black, important food for birds in this bleak time of year. Lichens become obvious in the hedgerows, a warm glow of sulphurous yellow, intriguing otherworldly structures, a world in miniature if you can get close enough.
Bramble runners become an obsession. Which way do they grow? What direction do the thorns sit? Mostly, the thorns point towards the thick end of the stem, assisting the bramble in its onward march, moving forwards, onwards, both up and down as it creates a thatched latticework across the hedges, extra surface for the eventual leaves and flowers to grow, soaking up the sun and signalling to passing pollinators, precursors to the riches of fruit it yields in the autumn.
There are hundreds of different species of bramble in the UK. Botanists recording plant varieties will most often record the plant as rubus Fructicosus agg. signifying aggregate brambles, a generic descriptor. A botanical friend told me with confidence there are over 400 species, and only two people in the UK who can identify them. Google puts the number at 330+, with the RHS coming in at over 2000! But… brambles can clone themselves, and produce fruit without being fertilised. I’m not a botanist, although I can see the differences as I look at the thorns on the bare runners in the winter, and the leaves and flowers during warmer moths. A bramble is a bramble, embrace the differences, and right now my interest is piqued as I prepare for an exhibition.
“Floribunda” is presented by Hand Grown, a group of Wirral artists creating work across a range of media inspired by native plants of the North West (for more details see below). I chose three plants for my main pieces and only later came to the realisation that these plants all represent scrub and heath. Thorny scrub is particularly interesting. Impenetrable areas of dense thicket, populated largely with plants such as bramble, hawthorn and gorse, thorny scrub is not only valuable (and safe) habitat for many birds and small mammals, it also provides a protective nursery area for tree saplings. Equipped with their own defences, the thorny bushes are resistant to grazing, allowing germinating seeds to grow into strong saplings. As early as 1613 the writer Arthur Standish described forest officers casting handfuls of acorns and ash keys into into the scrub ‘which, as experience proveth, will growe up, sheltered by the bushes, unto suche perfection as shall yelde in times to come good supplie of timber’1. I’ve always enjoyed discovering these rough patches of scrub (sometimes a great source of dyestuffs). The more I read, the more I learn, the more my enjoyment grows!
Reader, I hope you’ve had a good (and slow) start to the New Year. Taking some time to breathe and recover and stay in sync with the natural cycle of rest and regeneration can only be of benefit. And in February when you’re rested and ready, come along to Blossom and Create, and make some flowers with me!
Wishing you well, until next time, Ling (read on for more creative news from the studio)
BOTANICAL OFFERINGS FROM THE STUDIO A new year offer for readers: 20% off Paper Flower Craftkits in my online shop - offer valid until 24th January. Use code SUBS0125 at checkout.
BLOSSOM AND CREATE A new series of paper flower classes starts on Tuesday 4th February. Paper flower making is a wonderfully absorbing, relaxing way to spend your time. I want to offer a space for flower makers to come and both learn, practice and simply create. Two relaxed classes will run every Tuesday at Studio 3, Wood Street, Hoylake (choose a time that suits: 11am - 1pm or 7pm - 9pm). With a focus on different flowers from month to month, in February and March we’ll be making spring flowers. Classes can be booked one at a time and my all new loyalty scheme means for every four classes attended, you get one free too! Make friends while you make flowers: BOOK HERE. Please get in touch if you have any questions.
If you’d like to learn but you are out of area, why not join my new Facebook group THE PAPER WILDFLOWER where I am sharing tips, techniques and templates with paper flower makers ranging from absolute beginner to teaching me what to do!
FLORIBUNDA will be at The Atkinson Gallery, Southport from February through to mid-March 2025. Featuring the work of Alison Bailey-Smith, Ola Lee, Jude Gill, Emma Dromgoole, Fiona Brett-Blything, Julie Dodd, Mary Bryning, Karen Lawson and Marianthi Lainas along with yours truly, the artists all focus on North West Native flora and fungi with the theme interpreted through a lens of sustainability.
All images by Ling Warlow. Artwork in progress by Ling Warlow.
Quote taken from The Book of Wilding, Isabella Tree and Charlie Burrell, c/f “Wood-pasture hypothesis” wikipedia.com
Happy New Year Ling. I confess that even with (cough) some knowledge of plants I knew bramble simply as Rubus fruticosus. And it now seems strange not to encounter it here. Your creations look lovely. Good luck with the exhibition which I remember Marianthi mentioning. I hope I will get to see a few photos.