For ten years I watched as a wet, unmanaged meadow beside the Holyhead road became an exuberant mass of yellow flags and wild angelica. Then the new road across Anglesey was built, and the meadow was conscripted to serve the cause of progress. A pipe was laid, a concrete drain constructed, top soil brought in and the vegetation cut. A small but glorious piece of wetland which once provided a home for water voles is now a dull, horse-grazed pasture.

 

I watched it happen but did nothing. It is all too easy to stay silent, as our surroundings are converted to a drab uniformity. But every untidy corner, every bright little patch of nature, is worth fighting for. Anne Bryan’s account of how one small oasis of green was saved is a call to arms. Making a difference takes hard work and commitment; but in the process it can change perceptions and bring people together.

 

There is fun, and escape, and endless surprise to be had from an involvement with the physical reality of nature. Many of us find this in our gardens, along with untold numbers of micro-moths. Two articles provide information on how to make your garden more wildlife-friendly, and how to find the micro-moths living there.

 

People have not created nature, but we have influenced the landscape for a very long time. As Jim Latham points out, humans were here before the forests, so we can only really regard woodlands as natural if we accept that, for most of our history, we have been part of nature. In places like the south Wales coalfield valleys, where human and natural history have long been entwined, there is much to be gained from strengthening the links between ourselves and our environment; Julian Branscombe describes the remarkable wildlife attractions of this area, and what it offers local people.

 

I can’t think of a more charismatic creature than the lesser horseshoe bat, or a more impressive invertebrate than the fen raft spider, both of which feature here. A healthy water environment is important for both of them; Bob Merriman describes efforts being made to prevent the improper disposal of sheep dip chemicals which threaten aquatic life.

 

Nature is a source of constant surprise, but the steady rhythm of the seasons is a dependable certainty. Or is it? I was as fascinated to read his article about winter nesting bumblebees as Alan Morley was to witness queen bumbles collecting pollen in December. This nice piece of observation reminds us that there is always more to learn about the natural world, if we have the patience to sit and watch. It also strikes a sinister note about what is happening to the seasons. Any more of this, and it won’t just be bumblebees that are confused.

 

James Robertson