By Wendy Holliday
20th December 2024
On the edge of the village of Ruswarp, two miles inland from Whitby, with a beck, grassland and woods bordering our large garden and the River Esk nearby, Mike and I have lived in our property for over 40 years. During that time, we have been blessed with regular wildlife sightings and many visiting birds.
In 2005, the land adjacent to our property came on to the market. The site, of around two acres, was classed as grassland, but it was definitely not your average field. Mature oak trees command a view over the steep west-facing sloped area of unmodified grassland; this falls away to natural boggy areas with Buskey Beck providing a natural boundary along the lower edge. The far end of the site is more fertile at the top where it borders adjoining farmland, and the views are lovely. The lower edge borders mature mixed woodland, which is left unmanaged. With roe deer, badgers, foxes and rabbits as regulars, and most parts difficult to access with large machinery, for decades the site had only been used for grazing. Brilliant! Various parties were interested in taking ownership for a range of uses, so it was both exciting and a relief when our offer was accepted.
‘Rewilding’ was not high-profile at that time, but, with a respect and love for nature, we were eager to retain the diversity already there – and, indeed, encourage more. As avid gardeners with this new beckside opportunity, we created a small semi-wild garden linked directly to our existing garden, planted five fruit trees to create an adjacent mini-orchard, and erected a post and rope fence to separate the cultivated part from the rest of the land. For the first ten years the ‘field’ area was grazed periodically by our daughters’ two horses with no other management. Over this time, nature took hold: blackthorn, bramble and gorse scrub established itself, and self-seeded alder, ash, willow and beech trees grew successfully. I admit that time restraints and a busy life limited my appreciation of all that was actually happening there!
In 2016 I retired, and with no horses but more time, I realized that future management of the site – especially the grassland – could be very different.
For as long as I can remember, I have had a love of nature and gardening. I’m lucky to have spent my childhood in rural settings, enjoying the freedom and adventures, and wildflowers have always held special memories for me.
I began to look more closely at the flora in our field. The diversity of the site presented such opportunity for variety, I soon realised that I was lucky enough to have a very species-rich wildflower site, which was something I felt should be preserved. I decided to photograph and catalogue all the wildflowers, and to date I have identified well over 100 species, a couple of which are locally rare.
To prevent losing parts of the meadow area, I did have to reduce the blackthorn, spend days chopping back and digging out roots, and hand-pull docks and creeping thistles. We researched and carefully considered how to manage the grassland, with the aim of creating a mosaic of different habitats, mimicking grazing as best we could, but preserving and encouraging wildflower diversity in the long term. We decided that we would mow and rake roughly two-thirds of the meadow area as late as weather would allow in autumn (to allow invertebrates to complete life cycles), leaving the remaining third uncut over winter to provide sites for hibernation and shelter. In spring this would be mowed and cleared. The rougher and wetter areas of the field would be managed with minimum intervention.
In 2017, we sowed a mix of local meadow seed, which included yellow rattle, in a small trial strip. After it successfully germinated and flowered, we harvested the seed and sowed it in other areas. The yellow rattle has definitely helped to suppress grass growth, although in some years more than others. We have added other grassland wildflower species since then: some have successfully established themselves, others have disappeared.
Although it has been a challenge, we have managed to maintain the annual grass-cutting schedule most years, adjusting timing and areas to fit with ground and weather conditions and our own health; the site is not the easiest, clay soil becomes very sticky and slippery in wet conditions, and coupled with the steep gradient it can be rather tricky! We use a quad and topper on flatter parts (with a rather clever grass-collecting mat designed by Mike), and a rough grass cutter and rake for the rest, negotiating the many meadow ant hills – an art I’ve almost perfected. If conditions are not too wet and slippery, our neighbour’s horse also helps us out over winter with occasional grazing in limited areas.
Overall, the wildflower meadow is thriving. It takes on two different phases. In early summer it assumes shades of predominantly yellows and pinks with common spotted orchids in great numbers. These have definitely responded well to current regimes; four years ago, I estimated we had around 200 flowering spikes, since when it has increased year on year – and in 2024 there were more than 800, which made a fantastic display! In August, phase two, the ‘purple forest’ appears: common knapweed has definitely become dominant in rougher areas, a magnet for bees and butterflies when in flower, attracting large flocks of goldfinches in later months to feast on the seeds.
Over time, we have made other additions to the site to encourage more diversity.
We have added native trees along the woodland edge including silver birch, field maple, wild cherry, bird cherry, small-leaved lime and hornbeam. Five years ago we planted a native mixed hedge of 11 species along part of the furthest boundary. Within four years the hawthorn, viburnum and hazel have grown and matured sufficiently to bear the first autumn food for birds and small mammals, and beneath them we have successfully added ‘hedgerow’ plants including primroses, garlic mustard and foxgloves.
In July 2017, after digging a successful test hole in a naturally boggy area, we dug a wildlife pond, and the clay has since proved to be totally water-retaining. Within a week of the pond’s construction, large diving beetles flew in to colonise it, and a female southern hawker dragonfly laid eggs in the bankside mud. It has since attracted many more species of pond-dwellers; damselflies and dragonflies now breed here, together with frogs, toads and palmate newts. At dusk in summer, pipistrelle bats take advantage of the abundant insects, and I even witnessed a family of four otters looking for a frog supper in the spring of 2021. The pond does require management, and in late autumn we remove about a third of the aquatic vegetation. Pond plants all seem to possess a desire to be dominant and take over every square inch of the water surface: if I left it unmanaged, it would quickly be lost, become totally overgrown, and revert to bog.
The field and garden combined have also proved to be a haven for lepidoptera. I was not familiar with grassland species to begin with, but with help and encouragement from the vice county recorder of Butterfly Conservation, I began to keep and submit records on a regular basis. Over the past eight years I have recorded a total of 24 species of butterflies here. It’s actually quite a butterfly hotspot! I’ve also identified rare moths, directly associated with the plants on site. Researching larval foodplants and understanding why certain species were residents proved invaluable in my endeavour to balance natural rewilding with sympathetic management, which is not straightforward when you’re trying to accommodate butterflies and moths with a variety of quite specific requirements. So when I added some native trees in the lower wooded area, I included wych elm as locally the trees have been decimated by Dutch elm disease. I have one surviving tree in the garden which supports a small colony of white-letter hairstreaks, and the hope is to prevent their local extinction. I also planted alder buckthorn, which is the larval food of brimstones. Research showed that we were on the northern edge of the tree’s natural occurrence, but with butterfly species gradually moving north with climate change, it seemed a worthwhile exercise.
The alder buckthorn planting, which began with just me and a dozen trees, turned into an amazing success story which spilled over into the local community and beyond. It inspired a large-scale planting project led by Whitby Naturalists’ Club, which involved club members, volunteers, landowners, organisations and schools planting around 1,000 saplings in gardens, woodland, hedgerows and along natural wildlife corridors to connect known brimstone populations. Brimstones, previously seen only fleetingly in the area, are now resident both here and on other local sites where buckthorn has been planted.
Over the years, our land has changed. The unmanaged areas have grown wilder, the grasses have coarsened, bramble thickets have spread, trees have grown, branches have fallen, fungi have appeared. Marsh tits are resident in the wood edge, linnets have moved in and set up home in the expanding scrub, buzzards perch in the taller trees, large flocks of siskins take advantage of the alders in winter and green woodpeckers regularly visit to feast on the meadow ants. This year a family of sparrowhawks nested in a hawthorn by the beck. Roe deer, badgers and foxes are still regular visitors, good numbers of field voles are also evident, and local barn owls can often be seen hunting. Occasionally, we see a stoat or weasel dashing about its business.
The combination of managed and unmanaged, sun and shade, wet and dry, with all the associated trees and plants, supports a great diversity. I’m lucky I now have the time and have learned to look closely and record what I find: bees, grasshoppers, shield bugs, ladybirds, beetles, various fungi, some quite rare – and a few ‘wow’ moments with some new-to-the-area species identified. I feel the study helps me understand the land, what is here and how best I can care for it.
And I do think about the future, how to best maintain a balance between preserving the diversity and letting nature just be. If we completely stepped back, scrub and woodland would soon take over, but if the precious wildflower meadow is to continue to thrive, annual mowing is necessary, the creeping thistles and docks still have to be managed, the bramble scrub has to be kept in check, and I am aware that more short-term grazing by large animals would be beneficial to break up the turf in places – but it’s not straightforward with a pond, boggy areas and incomplete fencing, and having responsibility for someone else’s animals.
Working with nature has been rewarding in so many ways: overcoming challenges and feeling a sense of achievement as the land evolves and nature responds; sharing discoveries and experiences, expanding learning and knowledge; meeting new people, making new friends who share the passion; passing on seeds and plants then hearing further success stories; raising money for charities; being the inspiration for a much larger and successful project. It really has given so much back, and on a daily basis it brings joy. It is a privilege to be custodian of such a special place – I hope I am doing it justice.
My advice to others who may be thinking about taking on something similar would be:
- Take time to study what is already there and build around the positives.
- Talk to people who have already taken on similar projects, they’ll be happy to share!
- Think whether you could do something to help form a corridor for nature from nearby sites.
- Take a gradual approach, don’t take on too much all at once.
- Think about future management before any large-scale changes. The jobs do mount up, and it can be hard work.
- And a final piece of advice: if you use a mechanical grass cutter, check it isn’t running short of oil. I found out the hard way!
Image credits: Debbie Davitt, Wendy Holliday