Which tree is which?

One of our volunteers, Lucy Johnson, writes about trees.  

If you want to learn how to identify trees in winter when many of the most obvious clues are absent, you could do worse than buy a copy of John Poland’s “The Field Key to Winter Twigs,” published by the Botanical Society of Britain and Ireland. Alternatively, you could volunteer with the Aire Rivers Trust in the winter months and pay attention to detail, or give yourself a helping hand by attending Sheffield General Cemetery’s excellent tree identification event, intended to be held annually each January.

A Miniature Quest

As a regular Aire Rivers Trust volunteer who is not particularly observant, I went to Sheffield to learn more about the species we have been planting and to sneak a peek at the beautiful deconsecrated Victorian cemetery. I wanted to increase my ability to identify “whips,” the very young trees carefully planted by the Aire Rivers Trust in the winter months. Not just any old whip will do – the ones selected by ART are chosen to bear in mind their nativeness, their ability to coexist with water, how susceptible they are to climate change and sometimes how appetising deer find them. I was envious of the project coordinators' and other volunteers' ability to identify the whips at a glance, with a surety and ease that eluded me. With many phenomena, knowing how it’s done or knowing more about the topic can take away its simple enjoyment; let’s see if that would be the case for me.

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A Picturesque Setting

Navigating to the cemetery was pretty easy – I headed out of the city centre and soon found a steep road heading up a hill signposted “Cemetery Road.” Reasoning that I was likely in the right place, I ended up in an oasis of calm, surrounded by lovely, currently unidentifiable to me, old trees and picturesque gravestones. There was a sense of peace in the setting, enhanced by the occasional strolling dog walker. Sally and a team of dedicated volunteers manage the cemetery. Sheffield City Council supports tree maintenance.

Three Experts in One Day

I quickly found my way to the Samuel Worth Chapel, where I was greeted by one of the day’s experts, Gerry, who has spent many years researching plants and is currently working on a monograph about the plants in the cemetery. Ushered inside to the warm, I was given a handout detailing eighteen types of trees; all merged into one to my untutored eyes. I chatted with Sally and Claire, who were highly knowledgeable about trees and birds, respectively. Sally’s interest in trees developed following her employment at the cemetery, whereas Claire has had an interest in birds since childhood, thanks to her father.

Out Into The Cold

The tour began with the languorously beautiful weeping ash pair that framed the chapel. These trees were planted to enhance the chapel's design, which they have faithfully done for over a century. They are nearing the end of their life span. Fierce debates are underway as to which is the most suitable replacement for the good of the cemetery in years to come and to form a backdrop for weddings. During 75 minutes we saw everything from Turkey oak to Oriental planes, via ash, elm, elder and everything in between. Claire also identified the sounds of several less common birds for us.

A Little Bit Muddy

We were invited to step off the path at various points to get in the slightly squelchy ground among the trees – this was not a pickled-in aspic tour led from behind wire fences. While Sally ably led the tour and provided details on identifying key features, whether bark or bud position, Gerry provided a broader context and history. Of course, this being a graveyard, there was a glorious yew, which we were gently reminded was wholly toxic to humans.

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A Final Test

Dodging squirrels and the occasional runner, we returned to the chapel for the dreaded test. We were encouraged to handle the long stems numbered on the table, representing 12 key species, all covered during the talk. I confidently identified yew, horse chestnut, hazel and hawthorn, and then my attention span maxed out after about seven guesses, leaving five remaining unidentified. Sally patiently guided me through the remaining five.

Some Wizardry Here

Are any Harry Potter fans reading? Does anyone recall the moment in the first book where Ollivander the wand-maker, says something to the effect of, “The wand chooses the wizard.” I got to experience something similar when Sally placed one particular branch in my hand – it felt so wholly right, and I am sure it would form my wand in a Harry Potter existence. Indeed, I think it does form the wand for at least one character. I shall re-read the whole series from a tree-lore perspective and report back.

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Did 75 Minutes of Tree Talk Work?

A week later, waiting at the bus stop, I looked up, noting that the tall, bare trees marching down the road and clustered opposite were still a mystery to me. Then my eye fell on some unmistakable buds – horse chestnut. Conker cases still litter the ground. I am very familiar with this tree, but now I can decode its bare branches without needing to look down or to have seen the tree in summer. I may not be able to tell my rowan from my field maple yet, but my knowledge and confidence have improved. The trees have lost none of their beauty, for knowing a little more about them.

How To Get Involved

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If you want to have your go at winter twig ID, this sheet from the Woodland Trust is a great place to start.

Sheffield General Cemetery can be found here. They run history tours year-round.

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An Outfall Safari at Oddfellows

One of our volunteers, Lucy Johnson, recently took part in the training for our Outfall Safaris. Outfall Safaris are walks along the river by volunteers looking for pipes, or outfalls, from which water is spilling from in dry weather. Most of these spills are the result of misconnections where homes and businesses have been connected to underground waterways rather than the sewer. Throughout October and November, Lucy and the other volunteers from the Aire Rivers Trust will be recording these, and the impact of licensed sewer overflows, to urge Yorkshire Water and others to take action to improve them.  

In the article below Lucy reflects on her experience and hopes for the project.

Last Saturday I traipsed out of the house with a selection of pens, a notebook, delicious sandwiches and footwear suitable for any condition from completely dry to slight rainfall in a paved area. On the train from Leeds, I struck up a conversation with another compatriot from my part of West Yorkshire, also venturing out west of Leeds to enjoy a walk from Crossflatts to Ilkley for the first time since COVID. Having properly set the world to rights before the day had really begun, I speed-walked my way through Skipton to my destination. Unfortunately, my outing was not to explore the countryside at Skipton (nor my favourite cafés) but to attend training, not something I generally feel well disposed to on a glorious Saturday.

How to spot sewage

The training was the final of four recently organised across the Aire Valley by Sam Riley-Gunn of the Aire Rivers Trust, to empower citizens to take action on polluting outfalls in their local rivers and becks, and was successfully crowd-funded. Within the umbrella of the Rivers Trust, many of its member organisations across Britain and Ireland have adopted the model originated by the Zoological Society of London to record and respond to polluting overflows.

In Oddfellows most people (presumably having had more reliable modes of transport than two early morning Northern trains) were settled and ready to go, provided with a feedback card, a brightly-coloured white-board marker, and a tricky-to-prise open oversized plastic lanyard containing key reference information, and a hot drink. We cracked straight on. Over the course of the day, we learned about everything from the history of sewers to the inside story of how to get Yorkshire Water to cough up a £1,600,750 fine, to the finer details of Whatsapp features and a tailor-made form including photographs, descriptions and other monitoring details.

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A Legendary Pollution Hunter

Rob Hellawell is a veteran of the delicate dance of reporting water pollution to the Environment Agency and Yorkshire Water, primarily in the area around Bradford. Some reports can take years to come to fruition. Rob was instrumental in helping the Environment Agency prosecute Yorkshire Water in Bradford years after the pollution took place, thanks to his careful documentation. He recommends arming yourself with the key phrase, “I’d like to report an incident of pollution to the water course,” in order to get connected to the right phone operative. Provide photographs, report immediately if you witnessed it first-hand, document the location using what3words (be prepared to spell the words out to avoid confusion), and wangle a no longer provided standard reference number out of them for follow-up, which of course as a newly-minted intrepid pollution hunter you will do.

Safely as you go

There were some safety considerations to bear in mind. Be careful to cover open cuts on your hands, use the antibacterial gel provided after contact with the river, don’t wade above ankle depth and be aware that flash-flooding can occur. The energetic pollution hunter also has to know when to stalk their quarry; breakfast and evening times are best, when people are likely to be using toilets, sinks and washing machines. Industrial areas are also likely to be busy at similar times of the day, allowing people on Outfall Safaris to spot and monitor where misconnections mean that untreated water is going straight into the river. While the Aire Rivers Trust are dab hands at cleaning up litter, any major fly-tipping should be reported directly to the relevant council authority (North Yorkshire, Lancashire, Bradford or Leeds, according to the stretch of river where the fly-tipping is found).

Putting it all into action

Brains thoroughly expanded, and knowledge of gooey and unpleasant substances, colours and aromas forever increased, we headed out in a crocodile chain to a small beck close by, a stretch of water which changed in appearance over the short time that we surveyed it. Some more recent pipes sat alongside older infrastructure, including a Heath Robinson contraption from the roadside high above. We had a go at grading the different outfalls once we had got our eye on them, firstly at spotting them, then secondly at judging if they met the 20cm minimum criteria. Wrapping the day up with a group photo on a bridge, we returned to civilisation, ready to use new knowledge on the stretches of river meticulously mapped out by Sam. And no, my smart sneakers were not adequate for the river path, but I managed to avoid falling in and becoming part of the river detritus myself.

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Outfalls at Oddfellows (a poem)

Bright lights, PowerPoint on
Walking boots, bright-coloured coats.
Mugs of coffee, insulated water bottles.
Rob hanging on every word, poised to interject.
Kettle boiled, cups full.
Graphs, charts, images, the works.

The audience are polite, focused.
Relevant questions, print-outs to hand.
We spill out
Onto the pavement
Into the sunshine.
Beck time!

One pipe, two pipes, four
Blue paint, ‘Heath Robinson’
Fast-flowing water.
Peculiar arrangement
Alleviating the surface water.
Many points of interest on a short stretch.

Now time for me to be
Eastward bound.
A kind fellow musafir points
The way to the Wilderness
A little grotto
A haven from the crowds.
A place to linger, but there’s a train to catch

Now to meddle with Google docs
Entice friends to explore
Bring along someone new
One pipe at a time
Follow in Rob’s footsteps
Create a flow.

(Musafir is Arabic for traveller, from the same root as Safari.)
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