Category Archives: Nature

The Greater Cambridge Local Plan 2025–6

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The revised version of the Greater Cambridge Local Plan is now available for consultation and comment. One of the proposals has a direct impact on my ecological study area – this is Proposal S/CBC (Cambridge Biomedical Campus) which forms part of the ‘Site allocations’. I attach a pdf of the relevant section at the end of this post.

This map shows what is proposed. Two of the fields I study – Fields 1 and 2 – have already been released from green belt, and Field 1 is already all developed or under development while Field 2 is awaiting detailed planning proposals. Fields 7 and 8 are the areas which the local councils would also like to release from green belt for further development of the Biomedical Campus:

In the first round of local plan proposals the only mitigation offered was habitat improvement to Field 6. I had commented that this would be insufficient to replace vital habitat for threatened farmland birds, and the revised proposals also include three fields adjoining my study area (which I have called Fields A, B and C) as additional mitigation.

This leaves a real dilemma. On the one hand the combined release of the four fields removes around a third of the land in my study area available for farmland wildlife. On the other hand, the proposed three additional fields could possibly, if appropriately managed, offer threatened farmland birds and other wildlife an equivalent habitat.

I am working on my submission to the consultation at the moment and am consulting with local people and conservation organisations. I would welcome any comments and suggestions – you can message me either by leaving a comment below, or by using the email form on my contact page.

Here is the full S/CBC proposal:

S:CBC

The cotton famine road

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I grew up in Rochdale, one of the Lancashire cotton towns. As a child I used to walk up on Rooley Moor, just outside the town. It was there that began my lifelong love of hills, moorland and wild places. I particularly remember walking there in the hot, dry summer of 1959 when the level of water in the reservoirs was rather lower than when I took the photo on the right!

However, I only recently discovered that the cobbled road across the moor had important historical significance and is known locally as ‘The cotton famine road’.

The cotton famine happened when, during the American civil war, the northern states blockaded the southern ports. They wanted to prevent cotton exports – a vital source of income for the confederate states. This hit the Lancashire cotton industry hard, many of the mills closed, and many Rochdale millworkers found themselves without work and income.

However, the Rochdale millworkers were aware that when they opened a bale of cotton, the last hands which had touched the cotton had been slaves’ hands. So they chose to support the cause of abolition. To quote David Olusoga:

‘Even when they were hungry and destitute, thousands of workers in Rochdale stood in solidarity with the slaves of America.’

As the situation worsened, local councils including Rochdale launched famine relief funds to pay millworkers to work on public projects. One such project was to improve the road over Rooley Moor from Catley Lane Head up to Top of Leach, at 474 metres the highest point on the moor. Rochdale’s millworkers cut and laid a third of a million setts across the moor – it must have been tough work, especially in cold, wet weather.

Here’s my song about the Cotton Famine, filmed at Cambridge Folk Club. It features Lucinda Fudge (viola), Matt Kelly (violin) and John Meed (guitar and vocals). The Rooley Moor Neighbourhood Forum has been most helpful in my work on the song, and you can read their description of the road here. There is also a video about the road here. Alan Rawsterne from the forum supplied the photo featured at the top of this post.

You can download the song here.

Walks around Abergavenny

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In a brief visit to Newport, Gwent last year we had taken the train to Abergavenny in order to climb the Sugar Loaf (altitude 596m – a climb of 264m and distance of 9.7km up and then back to the station). From the station we had taken a taxi up to the car park near Mynydd Llanwenarth and from there had followed the main – and generally easy – path up the mountain.

On reaching the summit we had been shrouded in mist and drizzle and the view had been largely restricted to a friendly nearby sheep!

On the way down we had chosen the path on the north east side of St Mary’s Vale, passing through a remarkable forest of ancient trees:

Day 1: The Skirrid/Ysgyryd Fawr

So we returned to Abergavenny this year to celebrate my birthday, with the hope of gaining some better views from the nearby mountains. Our train arrived at 1.30 and we met our friend Mick (who I first met in 1969!) for a tea and chat. He also gave us a lift to the start of the path up today’s mountain – the Skirrid/Ysgyryd Fawr (altitude 486m – a climb of 296m and 4.3km), just outside the town. It was the first in a succession of encounters and acts of kindness that were to make the three days most memorable.

The climb up is initially quite steep, through woodland and conditions underfoot were very dusty after a dry period. However it was worth while to emerge onto the ridge with views over Wales to the west with the Brecon Beacons and the Black Mountains, and the rather less mountainous English fields to the east.

The ridge walk was altogether more gentle, with continuing views, though the cross wind from the remnants of Hurricane Erin made this rather less appetising than might otherwise have been the case. A merlin flashed by in pursuit of the numerous meadow pipits, and a red kite hung on the air.

We returned to the car park by the same path, and on the way down met a local woman who kindly offered us a lift back into town.

Day 2: Table mountain/Crug Hywel

On the second day we awoke to rain and waited until it cleared to take the noon X43 bus in the direction of Brecon, getting off in Crickhowell/Crughywel, and set off up Table Mountain/Crug Hywel (altitude 451m – a climb of 373m and 6.4km). After just over 1km along a quiet road, we took the track past The Wern farm and then a delightful path, firstly between two hedgerows but then opening up to climb a grassy slope with great views back across the River Usk/Afon Wysg valley.

After the dry summer a wild fire was burning on the moorland opposite.

On reaching open country, you can either go straight up the mountain, or skirt round the eastern flank before climbing up closer to the summit. As Erin was still blowing strongly we took the second option and were sheltered all the way to the summit. The views were stunning west towards the Brecon Beacons…

… north, along the valley into the Black Mountains…

…and east, over the village of Llanbedr towards The Sugar Loaf.

We had been tempted to carry on round the loop down Cym Cumbeth but will save this for another time and a longer day, and instead returned as we had come in time for the return bus.

Day 3: The valley of Grwyne Fawr

On the last morning we again woke to heavy rain and decided to stay at a lower level. We took the X43 bus again, this time stopping at Glangrwyney. We sheltered in the bus stop until the rain eased a little and then set off up the valley of the river Grwyne Fawr. The rain continued with differing degrees of intensity and after a while we met three women walking in the other direction, drenched. The umbrellas we borrowed from the hotel were proving their worth.

We crossed the river by a massive, ancient tree I did not recognise, and continued upstream passing a dipper, grey wagtail and kingfisher until we arrived in the small village of Llangenny. The pub was closed, but the toilets were open, and the publican welcomed us and suggested we open a parasol to shelter from the rain. He re-emerged a little later to comment that we looked most romantic under our parasol, and he then added he was about to make coffee and would we like some.

We carried on a little further to a series of rapids which the rain had brought fully to life.

We had hoped to carry on beyond this point but the rain persisted and we decided to turn back in order to catch an earlier bus before the rain drenched us as well.

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The value of arable weeds: a case study

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I tread carefully over a carpet of field pansies and scarlet pimpernel. A host of bees and other pollinators buzz around me. Overhead fly linnets and a family of corn buntings. The nearby grassy margin is alive with grasshoppers and moths. And I am reminded once more of the value of arable weeds to the threatened farmland birds that do so well in the fields I study just south of Cambridge.

Weeds provide food for the birds in the form of leaves, shoots and seeds. They are host plants for the invertebrates that grey partridge chicks and other young birds depend on in their early days. As I describe in A haven for farmland birds, the intensification of farming and in particular the increased use of pesticides are among the main reasons for the shocking declines of farmland birds.

During the spring and summer of 2023, three of the fields – owned by Cambridgeshire County Council and farmed by Peter Wombwell – were planted with beans. As May progressed, a variety of weeds grew between the bean plants, including on the right fumitory, a plant whose flowers provide nectar for pollinators, whose leaves are eaten by a range of invertebrates, and whose seeds provide food for finches and buntings.

As the beans ripened in late July, grasses and flowering plants came into their own:

By early August I was recording good numbers of butterflies, notably small heaths and gatekeepers, but also the stunning brown argus butterflies (right, a female), which already have a small colony elsewhere on the site. Might they be establishing a colony here as well?

Once the crop was harvested around August 17th, the potential benefits to wildlife became even clearer. As well as the pansies and scarlet pimpernel, there was a riot of other flowering plants, including poppies, thistles, yarrow, and mayweed. Many of the flowers were going to seed, attracting finches and buntings. One grassy corner had been left uncut, providing potential cover for the grey partridge that have hopefully been able to raise their young here.

The fields were cultivated a week after harvest, bringing the weed bonanza to an end, but they had nonetheless provided valuable additional food through a crucial time of the year. I checked with the landowner whether herbicide had been applied and although the farmer did spray early, the weather and the type of herbicide used combined to reduce the impact on weeds. I also checked whether the weeds may have had a negative impact on the crop. In practice, yield was down by a quarter to a third, but this was principally due to the frosty weather which knocked back some of the bean plants and left the crop a bit more gappy than usual (which also benefited the weeds and butterflies).

One of the most interesting things about the area of land I study is that such a good level of biodiversity is able to coexist with intensive and profitable agriculture. Several factors contribute to this, of which the variety of habitats (particularly margins) is key, but reduced pesticide use like this is clearly also important.

And on September 11th I recorded a group of 17 grey partridge by one of the fields – a remarkable number which suggested that the young birds had received a good diet in the crucial early weeks.

BTO review of ‘A haven for farmland birds’

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A while ago I sent a review copy of my book ‘A haven for farmland birds’ to the BTO (British Trust for Ornithology) and the review is now available via this link.

It’s a lovely review, written by the BTO’s Wader Project Officer, Paul Noyes, who concludes:

‘We are lucky to have people like John, who will spend long hours peering over hedgerows and creeping through ditches, watching for the great British natural capital we are all too often oblivious of (as the book’s final two pages may sadly indicate), and this lovely book is well worth the 144 whistle-stop pages.’

The cold spell around Nine Wells

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December 5th 2022 saw the start of a very cold fortnight in Cambridge. Temperatures rarely rose above zero, and fell to -11.3C early in the morning of the 15th; 10+cm of snow fell in the night of the 11th and stayed until the 19th. Ponds and lakes froze, and even the Cam had started to ice up by the 18th.

The lake in Hobson’s Park across the railway line was no exception. However the springs in Nine Wells continued to flow, and indeed on the coldest morning a misty steam rose from Hobson’s Brook. The area rapidly attracted the waterbirds that were displaced from the lake.

Snipe have always been occasional visitors but following the snowfall I counted five around Nine Wells and along the brook and nearby hedges. Little egret (right) and grey heron, more regular visitors, also appeared. Two new species to the site were more surprising: a couple of teal in the springs, while a family of five barnacle geese sought food in areas of the stubble field where the snow as less deep.

Other winter visitors flocked to the area – up to 200 redwing (below left and centre) thronged the hedgerows and shrubby areas, growing less timid as the cold spell wore on. This is more than I normally record around the site and more than were present immediately before of after the freeze began – it is possible that they were drawn by the presence of water, which may also have made adjoining areas slightly less cold. Good numbers of fieldfare (below right) were also present.

And one more treat lay in store on the 15th: another new species for the area, lesser redpoll, which called from one of the bushes along the brook.

For more about my study of the wildlife in the fields around Nine Wells, see my book A haven for farmland birds.

Reactions to ‘A haven for farmland birds’

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I’ve been receiving some nice reactions to A haven for farmland birds.

Writing in BTO News the BTO’s Wader Project Officer, Paul Noyes, concludes:

‘We are lucky to have people like John, who will spend long hours peering over hedgerows and creeping through ditches, watching for the great British natural capital we are all too often oblivious of (as the book’s final two pages may sadly indicate), and this lovely book is well worth the 144 whistle-stop pages.’

‘The reader with a general interest in wildlife and the environment can only marvel at John’s passionate study and prodigious knowledge of birds and bird behaviour in the fields and hedgerows around Nine Wells Nature Reserve.’ Cam Valley Forum

Mark Avery, former Conservation Director at the RSPB, wrote in his Sunday Book Review that:

‘The book is about farmland birds, that bunch of declining species whose overall numbers have more than halved in my lifetime and focuses on the author’s counts and observations in a small but rich area of the Cambridge green belt… One can’t help but like the author through reading his words – I did anyway. He is an enthusiast and part of the charm of the book is his growing knowledge, understanding and enthusiasm for the location and its wildlife. All field biologists tend to fall in love with their chosen study areas and species of interest – and quite right too!’

Duncan Grey, writing in Shelford Village News, commented:

‘Meed is a wise companion in a walk around the fields, showing us what we might otherwise have missed, explaining the changes of the influences of the seasons on bird feeding and migration and providing asides on everything from the history and geography to the migration of the albatross.’

I’ve also received encouraging feedback from readers, including ‘What a fascinating book’, ‘I never had imagined I could get so interested in grey partridges’ and ‘marvellous book’, while a former farmer commented that he ‘could not put it down’. Chris in Harrogate adds:

‘I have just finished reading your book – what an excellent achievement. I’m immensely impressed with your commitment, knowledge and expertise. I enjoyed the relating of your experiences as well as gaining a lot of knowledge about the birds and wildlife.’

I will be giving some talks about the book over the coming months: Friday, February 24th from 7pm in Rock Road Library, and September 25th to the Cambridge Local Wildlife Group. I have also prepared a video to accompany the book:

A haven for farmland birds is available from NHBS or my Bandcamp page.

Nine Wells

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Note: there is now a page devoted to Nine Wells which you will find here. I will keep this updated more regularly.

I continue my ecological survey of the fields south of Addenbrookes Hospital around the Nine Wells nature reserve.The field on the hospital side of the cycle path is wonderfully wild at the moment – this morning I heard 3 there (right) and saw 2 (possibly 3) pairs of A yellowhammer was also singing and several skylarks.


The field on the other side of the cycle path had been earmarked by South Cambridgeshire District Council for further development. However, the conservatives suffered a shock defeat in the recent local elections. The liberal democrats, who now have overall control of the council, had campaigned vigorously against the proposed development. Let’s hope they now throw it out – I am trying to clarify the position. In case they need reminding, you can write to local councillors.

My 2017 survey of the area – which you can download below – showed that the area remains extremely valuable for farmland birds of high conservation concern, with exceptional numbers of grey partridge in the autumn, as well as good numbers of skylark, linnet, yellowhammer and corn bunting.3P

‘The square km south of Addenbrookes has this year supported a grey partridge population of at least 11 spring pairs/km2 and 85 birds/km2 in autumn. The arable farms typical of Cambridgeshire support between 0 and 5 pairs/km2 and 0–20 birds/km2 in the autumn.’

Corn buntings also did particularly well last year, with 8 pairs. This is an important population – there are just 11,000 birds in the UK and its recent extinction in Ireland risks being repeated in large parts of Britain if its breeding sites are not protected. The RSPB’s nearby Hope Farm had 2 pairs in 2016 in 1.8km2.

In addition, the site supports a thriving population of water voles, both in the start of Hobsons Brook, and in the ditch that runs alongside the cycle path.

You can download a copy of my report for 2017 here.

Nine_wells_Survey_report_2017

My reports for 2016 are here:

Nine_wells_Survey_report_2016

Grey_partridge_2016

My reports for 2015 are here:

Survey_report_for_TL4654_2015

Grey_partridge_of_Nine_Wells

The story of Heroes of the floes

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It was a friend who worked for the British Antarctic Survey who first told me the story of John Rae, the Orcadian doctor and explorer.

Rae was born at the Hall of Clestrain in Orphir in 1813. He qualified as a surgeon in Edinburgh and in 1833 left Scotland to work in Canada, first as a ship’s surgeon on board the Prince of Wales, and then in Moose Factory for the Hudson Bay Company, where he was to stay for 10 years.

Rae, in contrast to most of his white contemporaries, respected the First Nation people, learned vital skills from them and dressed like them to face the winter cold. From the Cree he learned how to make snowshoes and hunt caribou, and from the Inuit how to build snow shelters.

Rae was asked by the Hudson Bay Company to complete the mapping of the Arctic coast. He was a remarkable athlete – in one two-month period he covered 1200 miles on foot – and he spent whole winters in the far north. His expeditions filled many gaps and confirmed the existence of the North West Passage.

In 1848 Rae was asked to help search for the men of Lord Franklin’s expedition. He learnt from the Inuit that 40 white men had starved to death and had resorted to cannibalism in their final days. However when his report reached London, it led to an outcry. As my friend says, ‘Royal Navy chaps don’t eat each other’. Or as Charles Dickens put it, no white man should believe the Inuit who were ‘savages and liars’.

Later expeditions proved Rae and the Inuit right. However by then Rae was thoroughly discredited and his own discovery of the North West Passage was attributed to Franklin. His achievements were written out of history. My friend suggested that, as Franklin already had songs to his name, I might like to write a tribute to a true hero of the floes. I hope the song does him justice.

Edale and Kinder Scout

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This May we celebrated Isabelle’s 60th birthday with a day’s walking in Edale and Kinder Scout, in the Derbyshire Peak District. At 636 metres Kinder is the highest point in England south of the Yorkshire Dales and the nearest place with real hills to Cambridge.

Edale is famous for several reasons. It is the start of the 267-mile Pennine Way – though somewhat confusingly when you leave the village you are offered two versions of the route, up Grindsbrook or Jacob’s Ladder. As Edale can get very busy on a warm spring Saturday, we avoided both, preferring the Crowden Clough footpath which also leads up to the Kinder Scout plateau.

Crowden Clough is usually quiet and so it proved on this occasion – we passed but a handful of people on our way up the valley, and probably saw more dippers and grey wagtails flitting around the waterfalls. Curlews hung on the air as we made our way up towards Crowden Tower and the start of the plateau. As we stopped for lunch, a ring ouzel was singing on one of the rocks across the valley.

Edale and Kinder’s second claim to fame is the mass trespass. On 24th April, 1932 a group of Sheffield ramblers, protesting for the right to roam, set off from Edale for a mass trespass on Kinder Scout, where they met a second group of ramblers who had started from Hayfield on the other side. Following scuffles with gamekeepers six ramblers were arrested and five were found guilty and given sentences of between 2 and 6 months prison. At the trial, Benny Rothman spoke:

‘We ramblers, after a hard week’s work in smoky towns and cities, go out rambling for relaxation, a breath of fresh air, a little sunshine. But we find when we go out that the finest rambling country is closed to us, just because certain individuals wish to shoot for about ten days a year.’

Ewan McColl was to succinctly rephrase this in The Manchester Rambler: ‘I may be a wage slave on Monday, but I am a free man on Sunday’. There’s a video of Mike Harding singing the song at the Moorland Centre in Edale. or another good version from Sean Cannon of the Dubliners.

Despite the severity of the sentences, more mass trespasses followed and eventually, seventeen years later, the 1949 National Parks and Access to the Countryside Act led to the establishment of the Peak District National Park, and the first recognition of a right to roam. Ever since the peaty bogs of Kinder have been a prime target for the walkers of Sheffield and Manchester.

It may have been a Saturday rather than a Sunday, and I haven’t strictly speaking been a wage slave for many years, but we certainly felt like three free men and a free woman as we stood up on Crowden Tower. From here there are several choices – you can turn left along the edge of the plateau towards the Swine’s Back, Kinder Cross and along to Kinder Low or down into Hayfield. One clear day, armed with a compass, I set out straight ahead across the plateau. After what seemed like endless peat bogs I eventually emerged at Kinder Downfall, little more than a trickle on that summer’s day. I have seen it as a spectacular waterfall after wet weather, with the west wind blowing the water back up onto the moor, or reduced to icicles in a harsh winter.

This time, with a long drive back to Cambridge ahead of us, we turned right along the edge towards Grindslow Knoll. We passed more weathered gritstone outcrops and appreciated the National Trust’s attempts to improve the path as it crosses the degraded peat.

Edale has long been one of my favourite places in the country, with special connections to my family. My father and grandfather were walking there when my mother went into labour for my birth. We in turn were there on the cold New Year’s Eve when my father died. It’s the place I head to when I need to escape the flatlands – good both for the feet and the soul.

We have walked around Edale in all weathers, but never as fine as this day. The sun was still shining as we headed down the slopes of Grindslow Knoll back towards the village, past the fortunate drinkers in the Rambler Inn who had less far to drive home.