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Quaking grass dances on the breeze as the quarry is reclaimed by nature Quaking grass dances on the breeze as the quarry is reclaimed by nature
(3 months later)
Like hovering raindrops, the flower heads of quaking grass jiggle at the ends of wire-thin stems. Purple, sulphur-jewelled, shaped like miniature hops, this characteristic grass of old meadows on limey soils dances on the lightest breeze, earning country nicknames such as totter grass, dothery dicks or dithery docks. Meadows change with the seasons and different years have different characters as plants become more or less prominent depending on rainfall and grazing. On the dry south-facing slopes of Windmill Hill I've never seen so much quaking grass and salad burnet. In other places, plants I look forward to seeing have gone.Like hovering raindrops, the flower heads of quaking grass jiggle at the ends of wire-thin stems. Purple, sulphur-jewelled, shaped like miniature hops, this characteristic grass of old meadows on limey soils dances on the lightest breeze, earning country nicknames such as totter grass, dothery dicks or dithery docks. Meadows change with the seasons and different years have different characters as plants become more or less prominent depending on rainfall and grazing. On the dry south-facing slopes of Windmill Hill I've never seen so much quaking grass and salad burnet. In other places, plants I look forward to seeing have gone.
Over in a little wood with grassy patches on limestone quarry spoil heaps, the colony of brilliantly blue milkwort has all but disappeared because of overshadowing. However, I find by accident another place where they have just emerged. Before turning out of the longest day, I took to a bit of crepuscular trespass in the quarries. A gang of jackdaws led by a supervising raven clattered around the rock walls, betraying my presence, but they soon tired of it. These huge stone spaces, humming with stored energy, are invigorating and slightly forbidding at midsummer dusk.Over in a little wood with grassy patches on limestone quarry spoil heaps, the colony of brilliantly blue milkwort has all but disappeared because of overshadowing. However, I find by accident another place where they have just emerged. Before turning out of the longest day, I took to a bit of crepuscular trespass in the quarries. A gang of jackdaws led by a supervising raven clattered around the rock walls, betraying my presence, but they soon tired of it. These huge stone spaces, humming with stored energy, are invigorating and slightly forbidding at midsummer dusk.
Much of the quarry floor has been cleared, but large terraces remain untouched and unvisited for some time. I'm surprised to see how black knapweed is such an early coloniser of bare spoil, in long before grasses. On one terrace, in a wonderful wild garden of plants growing on the remains of brutal quarryings, was more milkwort than I'd seen in one place. Maybe the opportunities to see such wonders are getting fewer, but that makes it more important to be out here as they dance as fleetingly as quaking grass. I must tell my dad about it at his 90th birthday party tomorrow – he's seen a few changes himself.Much of the quarry floor has been cleared, but large terraces remain untouched and unvisited for some time. I'm surprised to see how black knapweed is such an early coloniser of bare spoil, in long before grasses. On one terrace, in a wonderful wild garden of plants growing on the remains of brutal quarryings, was more milkwort than I'd seen in one place. Maybe the opportunities to see such wonders are getting fewer, but that makes it more important to be out here as they dance as fleetingly as quaking grass. I must tell my dad about it at his 90th birthday party tomorrow – he's seen a few changes himself.
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