Little Wormwood Scrubs Nature Diary December 2022

When a sharp-elbowed Magpie mobbed a Jay in the shrubbery it

showed how members of the same Corvidae family all too easily
get into a scrap. Probably it was about food, as well as something
that people might recognise in their own family - even during winter
festivals.
The tussle between these two loud
crows sent an alarm call to other
creatures. It frightened away all sorts of
woodland birds, including a group of
Redwings (see picture on right).
Generally though the park was already
seasonally devoid of most wildlife
activity.

On day one, the air temperature dropped to -1°C and by the end of
the second week temperatures at night fell to -10°C. Then by the
end of the month, daytime temperatures had risen to over 10°C,
which amounted to an unusual range for the month and on
occasions, a single day. On several days, outdoor temperatures
never rose above -7°C. This created such brittle conditions that
remaining foliage snapped off under the slightest stress, only to
join the leaf litter building up on the ground. The tough young Oaks
bucked the trend and retained soft brown leaves that created the
impression of warmth in a wintery parkscape.
A full moon over Harlesden – photo left
taken at 7:40am - helped to set things
aglow. All too soon it sank below the
horizon and handed over the sky to a
sunrise from a diametrically opposite
section of the sky. This shone a spotlight
on aspects of Decembers past, before
climate change moved into overdrive.
The stillness, vegetation glistening with
frost, the peace created by the muffling
effect of snow, crunchy grass under foot
and teenagers meandering across the
‘snowfield’ rather than taking the
‘sensible’ route to school.
 Tree surgery continued and for some of the
Lime trees their crowns were lowered.
However, a case needs to be made for
allowing some trees to grow into their natural,
climatic climax form, instead of a corporate or
maintenance-friendly shape. That way we
would see how sun, wind and water exert their
sculpting influence on a tree’s shape.
Some would regard a
fierce cut as a crime of
dendrology, although under the frost a
wonkily butchered Robinia still projected
charm.
Any Silver birch, Hornbeam or Oak left to
grow into something that Nature intended
has an intrinsic value that knocks exchange or use value,
determined by the invisible hand of the market, into a cocked hat.
Following all the tree work in
November and December, the park
was scattered with more logs. Some
of the fresher ones could be put to use
in plots for growing edible fungi. Not
mush room will be needed, just
patience. In the immediate
neighbourhood Ol’ Gumboots
demonstrated this and harvested
Oyster and Shitake mushrooms from
logs in the garden on Boxing Day.
Variety is the spice of life and, within
reason, so it is with the organic world.
In a spot where the Willows and
Hawthorns divulge the secrets of the
prevailing wind, and where there is a souvenir stump from the
1987 October storm, there are a few thriving Hazels and
Hawthorns streamlined by the sou’westerly. Hazels could be
planted here to screen the aggressive looking railings and railway
paraphernalia, and to mark the way of a forgotten footpath.
Although some people avoided the park when the snow settled,
the ice pierced the scene, the sky was overcast, and the
temperature hovered at -6°C. Birds who were looking for carrion
or prey were undeterred. A Green woodpecker squatted on the
ground, stabbed into a dormant red ants’ nest, gave up and flew
into the nearest Ash tree where it took its ease, even if hungry.
Then a Kestrel flew in and observed from the nearest Oak while it
showed off its classic silhouette. It was in for a shock though and a
very bold Carrion crow swooped in, knocked the Kestrel off its
perch and then mobbed it until it took flight, and still kept up the
chase.
When the Parakeets shaved fresh
buds off the Horse chestnuts, they
seemed to have taken their
‘inspiration’ from a few vandalising
man-cubs whose taking-and-driving
ritual was a rite of passage to
adulthood, drenched with a party
blend of laughing gas, wacky baccy
and the Magpie effect.

When it came to clearing up, the

hard-working gardener was shown no
goodwill this Christmastide.

The mid-winter runoff of social alienation, and the thwarted will of

youths to live, mingled with the physical runoff from days of heavy
rain that flowed under the railway and along the west side of the
Little Scrubs, as well as the east side - where there was once a
lake - and then on to the Under Eights play area.
Nicolas Holliman
Corner Nine Arts Project