Wednesday 8 February 2017

Keeping and Breeding Tropical Fish: From Angelfish to Killies

Angelfish (Photo: Public Domain/Pixabay)

When I was a boy and in my early teens, besides various caterpillars, silk-moths and stick insects, I also had a lot of tropical fish. In fact, I had tanks all around my bedroom. I used to breed many species of fish, including angel fish, keyhole cichlids, golden barbs and paradise fish.

Keyhole Cichlids

Some types of fish eat their eggs and so it was vitally important for me to be able to get the parents out as soon as they had laid their eggs. I used to stay up into the early hours watching for this to happen. My mother used to get annoyed and would tell me I should be asleep because I had school in the morning. I never cared about school because my insects and fish were my world and what was important to me.
It was in my early teens that I really got into keeping tropical fish and had a school friend called Roger Wiggins who used to keep tropicals too. We used to read magazines for aquarists and find out about fish farms in America and read about specialist breeders of difficult species, and we would fantasise about one day running our own tropical fish businesses. By that time I had started selling surplus fish that I had reared in the tropical fish shops in Cardiff, and sometimes I would supply them with bags of water lettuce, a floating plant I used to get so much of it covered the tops of the water in my tanks. They never used to pay me much for the fish and plants but it was a boost to my ego to be able to think I was successful at being a supplier, even if on a really small scale. The men that ran the shops knew that I knew my stuff too. It all appealed to my youthful sense of pride.
Roger and I used to order exotic aquatic plant species from mail order companies too. It was exciting seeing what the plants were actually like and to find out how well we could grow them. Often enough our efforts failed but that did not stop us. I remember being fascinated by the names we read in ads and wondering what these plants would really be like. Some like the aptly named four-leaf clover turned out to be really great and easy to grow aquatic plants but others just withered away.

Four-leafed Clover

I also remember going to Newport to a tropical fish shop in the Pill area of the city. Tachbook Tropicals I think it was. It was worth making this trip by train, not just for a day out, but because for some reason this shop always had fish you could not find in any of the shops in Cardiff. I remember getting an Egyptian mouthbreeder or mouthbrooder and a skunk botia from Newport.


Egyptian Mouthbrooder

The mouthbreeder was a female and I had her for years. Sadly I never managed to get a male and though she used to spawn on her own her efforts were wasted because the unfertilised eggs died and after she realised this she ate them. It was sad seeing this dedicated mother fish with a mouthful of eggs, not able to eat and expecting her eggs to hatch into tiny babies but never have any hatch out. My Auntie Elsie from London who used to often visit used to call this fish “Ugly” but I couldn’t see why. But it was a male I needed and for some reason every time I saw these mouth-breeders for sale there were never any males. There were unexplained mysteries in the tropical fish business. In Cardiff they were never on sale in either sex. I never understood why because it was an interesting fish, easy to keep and in most tropical fish books.

I remember something else that happened that involved my Auntie Elsie and a fish I had at the time. It showed me something about how human opinions can be so very wrong and how animals and plants are built to survive and repair themselves if hurt. I had an upside down catfish.

Upside Down Catfish (Photo: Neale Monks)

These fish are named that way because they do swim upside down. The one I had was a greedy fish and was always on the lookout for more food but one day it had a terrible accident that was to cause it to stop eating. What happened was that for some reason, which I cannot remember, the fish was very alarmed and dived down fast towards the bottom of the tank. In its speed it failed to watch out for a jagged rock and cut its belly open. It was really badly hurt because I could see its innards that spilled out through the cut it sustained. My Auntie saw me upset and asked what was wrong and I told her what happened. She took one look at the catfish and said I should do the right thing, and put it out of its misery, because there was no way it would survive. I didn’t want to kill my fish. I hoped so badly it would get better. I decided to give it a chance, though I could clearly see that the odds were against it pulling through. My catfish retreated to a corner of the tank, stopped eating and swimming about and just stayed there, hanging almost motionless in the corner. The days rolled onward and the fish didn’t die. It didn’t resume its normal lifestyle of swimming around and looking for food but it didn’t die. What happened was a miracle. The guts of the fish were very gradually being pulled back inside its belly, and the skin was closing over. Eventually, after about a week, wound had closed and all was left was a scar. The catfish gradually started to take an interest in life again and moved around in the tank, and most importantly, began eating again. Within a few weeks, it was back to normal and even the scar on its belly vanished. I was so glad I had not listened to Auntie Elsie, and that I had given my fish a chance.

Nothobranchius rachovii male (Photo: Andreas Wretström)

But getting back to my friend Roger and our shared hobby; we had an ongoing mystery. You see, we never saw any killifish for sale, though we read about these unusual fish in books and magazines. Because of their habits of laying eggs that need to be kept semi-dry to replicate the conditions in the wild where ponds dry up, we assumed these species really were so difficult that this is why they were not available in South Wales. These were fish it was probably too hard to keep and breed. This is what we thought was the reason why people do not keep killies. Many years later I was to find out that this assumption was wrong. It was possible to order killifish by post, as eggs or adult fish. Some types were very hard to keep but others were easy. I became a member of the British KIllifish Association in the 1990s. This meant I received the society’s monthly journal and could read the ads and respond. I could order eggs from other members. The killifish eggs were in peat and used to be contained in small plastic containers or in plastic sachets. They could be sent through the mail this way. The excitement came from hatching the tiny fish out and seeing if you could rear them successfully. Some types like the Nothobranchius species were exceedingly colourful with the males having red tails and bright blue bodies. I was successful in breeding and rearing quite a few species, including some of the larger bottom-spawning aphyosemion species, such as the Blue Gularis.



I was proud of my success with these fish. I sold a lot to a local fish shop where I knew the owner Neil. Sadly though he was to tell me that many of them died. I never sold him any more after that. These fish I found easy to keep could not survive in a tank in a shop. perhaps they did need specialist care after all?

I have another fish story I would like to share. I had a pair of some type of mouthbrooding cichlid. I say “some type,” because they were not identified when I bought them and I never did find out what they were. There are a lot of African mouthbreeder cichlids and these were mostly a yellowish colour and it was clear which the male was because he was a lot bigger and he used to dig pits in the gravel, which is something male fish do to attract mates. I also could see that the other was the female because the fish used to breed but sadly, for some reason, I never discovered, they always lost their eggs which failed to hatch. Nevertheless, this pair of fish seemed OK in my community tank and never bothered other fish I had. I mention this because many cichlids are known for being aggressive and cannot be kept with other species. But all of this, I have just told you, is not what this story is about. What I really want to share is what happened when the female fish died. I cannot remember what was wrong with her but I can vividly remember what happened to the male. It was as if he lost his will to live, like a brokenhearted human it seemed he no longer had any reason to be alive without his mate. Now, what you probably don’t know is that there are many fish that are monogamous and faithful to their mates. There are fish that mate for life and are far more loyal to their partners than many married humans can be. Anyway, what happened with my male cichlid, and how I could see he was grieving badly, was that he stopped eating, stopped showing an interest in swimming around the tank, stopped digging in the gravel, and like the upside down catfish I have already told you about, he went into a corner of the tank and just lay on the gravel. After seeing him behave this way for several days I thought he was pining away and would die, but I was wrong. Something amazing happened that showed that fish can respond to humans and that one species can communicate with another.


My friend Sioned used to call at my house on a regular basis. One day she called round and had gone in the kitchen for something, which was where the tank was I had my cichlid in. She asked me what was the matter with my fish. I told her that he was very sad and grieving because his wife had died. I said I thought he would die too because he wasn’t eating. Sioned was horrified and said she was going to see if she could help save him. She started gently tapping on the side of the tank and talking to the fish through the glass. My friend repeated this every time she visited which was every day that week. My heart-broken male cichlid began to respond. He left lying in the corner and would come over to see Sioned through the glass pane. Eventually after a few days he started eating again, and swimming about. He even began digging in the gravel. probably in the hope that his mate would somehow return, or maybe to attract a new mate. This never happened, of course, and I was unable to get any more of this type of fish, though I looked in the local tropical fish shops. As a result of my friend Sioned spending time trying to talk to my male cichlid and succeeding, he went on to live many months more.

Footnote: The story above is taken from an unfinished book of memoirs about nature.

Tuesday 7 February 2017

Kenfig Pool and Kenfig Sand Dunes

Kenfig Pool (Photo: Public Domain)

I was thinking about places in the countryside that I remember from my childhood and thought I would like to tell you about Kenfig Pool and the sand dunes there. My parents used to take me to this amazing place when I was a boy. We used to go on lots of days out, visiting the countryside. My dad had a blue Vanguard car and this is what we would go out in. Mum and Dad were always encouraging when it came to my interest in nature and they used to buy me lots of books. I had most of the Observer’s Books.


I had the Observer’s Book of British Wild Flowers, and the book on fungi and British birds, and wild animals, and freshwater fish, and even the Observer’s Book of Mosses and Liverworts. That last book was given to me when I was only five, and I know that because it has survived and is at my Dad’s house still, I think, and it is signed to me in the front for my “Fifth birthday.”
Anyway, one place we used to go which I really used to love was Kenfig. It is near Porthcawl but much wilder. There is a big lake called Kenfig Pool and miles and miles of sand dunes.
These dunes have rough paths through them and eventually you can get to a long sandy beach by the sea. It takes well over an hour, as I remember it, to get from the carpark to the beach. But the walk is the real fun of it all. There were so many wild flowers I could look out for and insects and newts and frogs and toads, lizards too.

Kenfig Pool

There were temporary pools that formed in the dunes and they had boggy bits around them with sphagnum moss and bog myrtle. I used to love the smell of marshy ground, especially if there was water mint that added its aroma if you stepped on it or brushed by it as you were walking. In these pools there were newts and water beetles and other water insects. I was always fascinated by water, by ponds, streams and rivers, and rock pools when we went to beaches. I used to wear my Wellingtons so I could investigate the watery places without getting my feet wet, though often I did get water in my boots and my Mum used to get mad at me because of this.
Part of the fascination was I never knew what I would find. I was exploring. It was like it stirred some sort of instinct to hunt for life; I was a hunter-gatherer boy. In those days, I was forever turning stones over, looking under boards and corrugated iron on waste ground, wading around in muddy ponds, seeing what I could catch in rivers and streams, and exploring the railway bank behind where we lived. Nature was my world. It meant much more to me than people and the human world and I hated school.

Viper's Bugloss (Photo: Public Domain)

But getting back to Kenfig, one of the reasons I was so excited by the place was because there were rare wild flowers to be found there. I used to like looking up plants in my wild-flower books. I used to always be on the lookout for new species and hoping I would discover something really rare. Wintergreen, hound’s tongue and many types of orchids were some of the rare plants that grew at Kenfig Dunes. I used to find blue viper’s bugloss and pink centaury and also we used to look out for dewberries, a type of blackberry that grew in the dunes. We used to collect them and take them home so Mum could make pie which we used to have with custard. I used to love eating blackberry pie and custard or just stewed blackberries and custard.
Often I used to go on ahead of my family, or be lagging behind them, as we made our way over the dunes. I was always investigating some marshy ground, turning over any boulders or rubbish I found or searching in the vegetation. I remember there were some parts where you could find common lizards. They would bask on bits of discarded iron sheeting and on boards and other rubbish that littered the dunes even then….this was back in the early 1960s.

Great Green Grasshopper (Photo: Pixabay/Public Domain)

I used to try and spot great green grasshoppers too. These insects are, as their name suggests, very big, the size of locusts. They lived in some parts of the dunes and you could hear them singing but they are really difficult to find. The insects blend in so well with the vegetation and they stop singing as soon as you get anywhere near them. Most frustrating!
Often I found young toads and they seemed happy in the sandy soil. I remember thinking about natterjack toads I had read about in my books. They liked habitats like this but were very rare and didn’t live in South Wales but that didn’t stop me dreaming I would find them there.

Six-Spot Burnet (Photo: Pixabay/Public Domain)

There were lots of butterflies too. Wall butterflies, meadow browns, common blues, small coppers, small heaths and the colourful day-flying moths known as burnet moths. Many of these types of butterfly you hardly ever see in Britain today. It has always depressed me to watch wildlife vanishing. I never thought it would happen when I was younger. I mean, you don’t think about these things. You think everything will always be there somehow.
In spring though it was amazing because that is when there were most wild-flowers in bloom and the ponds were full of water. At this time too, if you happened to get there at the right time, it was possible to see thousands of adult toads making their way to Kenfig Pool. They used to use the lake to breed in and I remember seeing these amphibians all over the ground on the shores of the lake and in the water around the edges. many of them were mated pairs, in what naturalists call amplexus, where the male toad grasps the female with his arms round her and rides on her back.

Common Toad (Photo: Public Domain)

I used to like the idea of how wild it felt once you got away from the road and ‘civilisation.’ It was just miles of sand dunes covered in marram grass and other plants that tolerated the sandy soil, the sky above and hardly a soul ever in sight. Most people stayed in the car-park, few ventured into the dunes and were prepared to make the long trek.
When we were getting near the beach area you could tell. There were visible signs if you knew what to look out for. The sand got more so, less covered in vegetation, and new plants appeared.  The weird and prickly sea holly and sea spurge, food-plant for the rare spurge hawk moth. It was a moth I always hoped to someday see but never did. It is funny how we can live in expectation of some dream coming true, even though it is very much against the odds. It seems easier to do this when you are younger.

Gatekeeper on Sea Holly (Photo: Pixabay/Public Domain)

In this part of Kenfig it was like a zone, a border between the dunes and the beach, a place where different plants would grow. Then there was the top of the beach proper with rotting seaweed, bladderwrack with sandhoppers underneath it. I always used to enjoy moving the weed and seeing the hundreds of little crustaceans jumping about and seeking cover. It fascinated me how they all lived under these piles of seaweed.

Sandhoppers

So Kenfig was very much a part of my childhood and early teens. I don’t know what it is like today, probably spoiled to some degree. Most of my life and growing up I bore witness to seeing places I loved in the countryside getting ruined. I am sure you know what I mean, I mean watching places get built all over, ponds drained, roads built etc etc. Reminds me of the Joni Mitchell song: “They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.” But the wild places are still there in my head, in my memories, and are very much a part of what has made me as I am.

Footnote: This is the slightly edited first chapter of an unpublished book I began writing. More chapters will appear in future blogs.

Monday 30 January 2017

The Coal-yard

The Coal-yard That Became Housing

Restharrow - Ononis repens (Photo: Public Domain)

Today, I am going to write about somewhere my family called “The Coal-yard.” It was on the other side of the railway line and railway bank behind where we lived. As a child fascinated by nature, I used to go there to look for wildflowers, butterflies, moths and once common reptiles. The coal-yard was a wonderful unrecognised nature reserve because it supported so many species of wildlife. It was presumably viewed by the local authorities as little more than waste ground, of no use now the coal mines were no longer a thriving business and British Railways were no longer using it. What was once my coal-yard was destroyed and became a site for housing and a short road, together with the almost obligatory lawns.
All of the wildflowers and wildlife have gone, including the common lizards that lived there.

Small Copper (Photo: Public Domain) 

I recently blogged about habitat destruction and natural environments that I have seen destroyed and vanish locally. The same picture is happening globally. Just think about how many woods, fields, ponds or other wild places that have gone from the area you live in. I am sure you will know what I mean.


Here is a poem I wrote describing the coal-yard and what was once there.

Common Lizard (photo: Public Domain)

The Coal-yard of my Vanishing World

The coal-yard has long gone,
Once there were wildflowers in the abandoned sidings,
Pink restharrow, golden bird’s-foot trefoil and purplish tufted vetch
Added colour to the picture
And nectar for the bees and butterflies;
Small heath, small copper,
Common blue, grayling,
Wall brown, meadow brown,
Small tortoiseshell, and the day-flying burnet moths,
Once added their beauty on the wing,
Flitting from one floral delight to the next,
Basking in the sunlight.
Lizards sunned on sleepers and anthill mounds,
Slow-worms slithered under rusty corrugated iron;
Catch them if you can, and I often did.
It was a boy naturalist’s paradise,
Over the railway bank,
A secret heaven,
A pasture of delights.
Now apartment blocks, a cul-de-sac
And manicured lawns are the replacements.
Plums and apples fall in season
And rot on the grass,
Where tenants leave them,
And passers-by pass by.
People are starving elsewhere in my vanishing world.

About the Butterflies
Several species of the butterflies mentioned are now recognised as being in a serious decline in numbers throughout the UK. The small heath (Coenonympha pamphilus) is, as its name implies, a small butterfly and fairly inconspicuous with its yellowish-brown wings. It likes a grassy area and its caterpillars feed on various grasses. It was once very plentiful, and although still widely distributed, many of its former colonies have gone.

The wall brown, or simply wall butterfly (Lasiomammata megera) was once very common but has suffered serious declines, although Climate Change is thought to be a reason behind its disappearance. Like the small heath, its caterpillars feed on grasses, so lack of food-plants is not a problem for these species.
Small Tortoiseshell (Photo: Public Domain)

The small tortoiseshell (Aglais urticae) was once one of the most common British butterflies and was found in a  wide range of habitats, including our gardens. Over the past decades, however, it has experienced a dramatic slump in its number. This is not adequately explained because its food-plant is the stinging nettle and there are plenty of these plants about. It is thought that changes in weather brought about by Climate Change are negatively affecting this pretty butterfly.

Sunday 29 January 2017

My Vanishing World

Endangered Species in a Vanishing World


Llandaff Weir (Photo: Steve Andrews)

Throughout my life I have been very sadly watching the natural world being destroyed bit by bit, pond by pond, forest by forest, field by field, habitat by habitat. Most of this is done in the name of ‘development’ and ‘progress’ and even in the name of safety, e.g. when trees are felled for being potentially dangerous and ponds are drained because a child could fall in and drown. These are the sort of reasons given for destroying part of the natural world, and each part that is destroyed was the home for many species of animal and plant.


As a child and teenager who delighted in the wonders of nature I was discovering, I never dreamed that once common birds, animals, insects, fish, reptiles, amphibians and wild flowers would become rare or even endangered species. But this has happened. Here in the UK, the decline in wildlife is truly alarming.


Small Tortoiseshell, a once common butterfly (Photo: Public Domain) 


The honeybee is having problems all over the world, and the new term “colony collapse disorder” is in use to describe their decline. Once common butterflies, like the small tortoiseshell are no longer frequently seen. The numbers of the house-sparrow and starling have dropped drastically. Both these birds used to be seen all over cities and towns and were regular visitors to most gardens but not now. The common lizard isn’t common. Ask yourself this: when did you last see one? Perhaps you have never seen one! The hedgehog, which used to be often seen in gardens, and often seen as a victim of road-kill is not even seen dead on our roads. There are so few hedgehogs about they are not there to get killed by traffic any more. The European eel that I remember seeing in their millions as elvers coming up rivers and streams each year is now listed as a critically endangered species.

Habitat Destruction

Habitat destruction is a massive part of the problem, and it doesn’t have to be tropical rainforest that we need to worry about, although of course the destruction of our jungles is a very alarming threat to the world’s wildlife and ecosystems. Natural environments much closer to home are continuing to be destroyed.

Llandaff Weir


Where elvers once climbed (Photo: Steve Andrews)

In Llandaff and Fairwater, in Cardiff, where I was brought up, there used to be many places where you could find newts, frogs and toads. In other words, there were a number of ponds available for them to breed in. I remember a large pond behind what was then Waterhall School in Fairwater but that has long gone. Right next to Llandaff Village is the River Taff and Llandaff Weir. When I was a boy there were two ponds on the river bank that supported newts, frogs and toads. There were also sticklebacks, as well as various pond snails, water beetles and dragonflies and damselflies that called these ponds their home. Both ponds were destroyed many years ago. The ground was bulldozed flat or made into embankment. Where did all the amphibians go when they returned in spring to find their breeding pools gone?

Elvers
I went along to Llandaff Weir recently with my friend Roger and we were looking at where the ponds used to be and also at the river and the weir. I remember when the elvers used to leave the water and slither their way up the wet concrete and stonework at the edge of the weir. There used to be so many that it was easy to fill a bucket by putting one under the mass of wriggling elvers and dislodging them into it. Every rock in the river would have an elver or elvers under it. This was normal. Now this species is in such small numbers it is listed as critically endangered, as already pointed out.




As a  matter of interest, the River Taff was terribly polluted when I used to go there as a boy back in the early 1960s. The water was black with coal dust from the mines up the Valleys, it foamed with detergents washed down in drains and the mud was also black and had an awful stench. No water plants would grow in the river. Amazingly though, there were minnows, bullheads, stone loaches, sticklebacks, and roach, all to be easily found doing surprisingly well at that time. The minnows and bullheads were the biggest I have ever seen, and this was really surprising because both these fish like clean well aerated water. I think the reason the fish thrived despite the terrible pollution was because of the vast numbers of tubifex worms that lived in the mud.  I used to carry this mud home and put it in a container and let it dry out. The pink or red worms would form into tangled balls as the mud dried out. This made them easy to remove, and after washing them they were ideal live food for the many tropical fish I used to keep.






I don’t know what fish live in the cleaner River Taff as it is today, although I do know that salmon and sea-trout can be seen jumping at Blackweir which is another weir a mile or so downstream. The river has improved in many ways but at the same time it has lost a lot. It has lost at least two ponds that were once on its riverbanks.

This story illustrates well the reason why it makes a great contribution to wildlife conservation if you have a garden pond. The more garden pools there are the better because they can serve as a partial replacement for the ponds that have been destroyed.

Thursday 24 November 2016

Monarch Butterfly Monitoring in Portugal and Spain

Monarch Butterfly Colonies in Portugal and Spain

Monarch (Photo: Public Domain)

I have been wondering what happens to monarch butterflies (Danaus plexippus) that emerge from their chrysalises in the late autumn in Portugal and Spain. I am wondering if there are any organisations or individuals out there that know or are monitoring the colonies and populations of these insects.

Migratory Monarchs

It is common knowledge that these beautiful butterflies conduct an incredible migration from Canada and the northern states of America down to Mexico and California in the south of the US each fall, and then repeat the journey in the opposite direction with the coming of spring.

Overwintering Monarchs (Photo: Public Domain)

The monarchs overwinter in vast numbers that cling to trees. Conservationists have become rightly concerned about the diminishing numbers of monarchs that are arriving to overwinter and that are successfully accomplishing this essential part of their life cycle. Forests in Mexico are being destroyed and freak winter weather due to Climate Change is taking a toll.

In America the subject of monarch migration is being taken very seriously and efforts are being made to monitor the numbers of these butterflies. If you search online for “monitoring of monarch butterflies” you will find plenty of relevant entries for America but not so if you search for “monitoring and distribution of monarch butterflies in Portugal and Spain.” Yes, there are plenty of results but none that I can find that tell you much about the populations in the Iberian countries, only that they exist. It is known that monarchs can be found on the Azores and in Madeira too, as well as the Canary Islands, which count as part of Spain.

Monarchs in Portugal

I have a book I bought in Portugal entitled thebutterfliesofportugal, edited by Ernestino Maravalhas and published by Apollo Books, and it has a distribution map for the monarch butterfly. It is shown as living in the Aveiro area on the northern coast and along the coast of the Algarve in the south.

Monarch caterpillar (Photo: Public Domain)


I have recently obtained some monarch caterpillars from a butterfly farm in Aveiro but the owner tells me there are no monarchs in the north in winter.  I have the food-plants scarlet milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) and the bristly fruited silkweed (Gomphocarpus fruticosus) growing here on which the caterpillars are feeding.

Bristly Fruited Silkweed  (Photo: Public Domain) 

Incidentally it is these plants that have been introduced into Iberia as garden plants that have enabled the monarch to colonise Spain and Portugal. The same goes for Tenerife and the Canary Islands where the scarlet milkweed is often grown as an ornamental garden flower.

Monarch on Milkweed (Photo: Public Domain)

I have successfully reared many monarch butterflies in Tenerife when I lived on the island where there are non-migratory populations, and I know that the insects there continue flying and breeding in the warmer coastal areas through the winter months when it becomes too cold and their food-plants die back in the mountains and higher ground. But I am wondering if the situation is the same in Portugal. If so what temperatures do all stages of the insect need to survive and complete their life-cycle? I estimate my caterpillars are going to need a week more here before they will change into chrysalises and probably a bit longer before they emerge than the ones I have reared before in the slightly warmer part of Tenerife where I lived. I estimate that the butterflies will be emerging late in December but what will they do if I set them free, allowing for sunny and warmer winter days here in Portugal. Will the monarchs attempt to overwinter, will they die doing so or will they fly south?

I have been trying unsuccessfully to find out in searches on the Internet but most information I find is mostly about the migratory monarchs in the US.



I know that the milkweed and bristly-fruited silkweed can continue growing throughout the winter here so the food-plants are available, but I don't know whether it simply gets too cold for any stage of the monarch’s life-cycle to survive.  Anyone reading this who can tell me more about the monarchs in Portugal and Spain, please get in touch or leave a comment.

Monday 21 November 2016

Forest Farm and Glamorganshire Canal are Great Places for Nature

Forest Farm Reserve and the Glamorganshire Canal


Photo: Steve Andrews

Just on the outskirts of Cardiff lies a wonderful area for nature that I have been visiting since I was a boy. I am talking about Glamorganshire Canal and the Forest Farm Nature Reserve, which offer long stretches of freshwater, pools and wetland habitats, forests and fields.

Photo: Steve Andrews


There are several ways to get there but I usually walk up through Hailey Park in Llandaff North and continue along Ty-Mawr Road that goes past the old Melingriffith Tin and Iron Works and the old water wheel which is still there as a relic of the South Wales industrial past. The Melingriffith Works that were founded sometime before 1750, closed in 1957.  At the end of the road you reach the end of Velindre Road, which is part of the suburb of Whitchurch.



Here you can either go into the Forest Farm reserve or wander along the banks of the canal, which ends below Tongwynlais and in the area of the Coryton Interchange. It is also possible to get there by crossing the River Taff from Radyr.

Herons and Kingfishers


Photo: Steve Andrews

Birdwatchers can easily spot herons in this area and if lucky you can get a glimpse of the kingfisher too as it hunts for prey in the waters of the canal. I remember seeing one there many years back and it inspired me to write a song, aptly entitled "Kingfisher."

Mallard ducks are very common here and can be seen on the Glamorgan Canal and on the feeder which runs alongside it, as are moorhens. Water rail, snipe, dippers and reed warblers are also reported from Forest Farm Reserve. Even the elusive bittern have been seen here.

Photo: Steve Andrews


Beech and Oak

Beech and oak are the main trees that grow alongside the Glamorganshire Canal and in the Long Wood. Some of the trees are said to be 200 years old. In autumn the dead leaves in their brown and golden autumnal shades can be seen coating the ground and floating on the canal’s surface.

Common Toads
Common toads gather to spawn in the canal in springtime, and I remember when some ponds many miles away on the banks of Llandaff Weir were destroyed many years ago. I remember seeing toad tadpoles in the canal that year and wondered if it was possible that some of the displaced toads had somehow found the canal even though it was miles away. I often wonder what amphibians do when they return to spawning grounds to find them gone.

Grass Snakes
I have seen grass snakes swimming in the Glamorgan Canal too. It is good to know these once much more common reptiles, have found a home here.

Waterlilies
In summer the surface of a lot of the Glamorgan Canal is covered by the large rounded leaves of the yellow water lily. However, when I recently visited in late autumn they had all died back. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed my recent walk along this canal that is an interesting place to visit all year around.

Photo: Steve Andrews