In Praise of Gorse

Gorse scrub - wildlife heaven

Gorse, furze, furse or whin (Ulex spp.) is a genus of about 20 plant species of spiny evergreen shrubs so Wikipedia tell. To me this much maligned shrub will always be ‘whin’ or ‘whiney bush’ it is a perennial survivor too, so maybe that’s another reason why I view it more favorably than others. I think in the main it is a very under rated plant that brings massive benefits to the countryside if not just from that brilliant splash of colour its vivid yellow flowers give on late spring days.



It is an ancient plant too, its name gives rise to many common names associated with place names geological features and species such as the self explanatory Whiney Hill, whinchat and of course the great whin sill. It is a native shrub with three species commonly found in the UK it has dense, dark green shoots and vicious spines. From March to May and often in late summer a dazzling feast of colour is given by the fragrant pea-like yellow flowers. It thrives in poor, dry acid soils, but it will grow in many suitable well drained places in a sunny position.

I remember it well from my youth as I would be covered in scratches from those thorns as I drove my way through thick gorse to reach the nests of yellowhammer and linnet or to recover an errant ferret from the many rabbit holes that lay beneath. On hot days we would sit and listen to the yellowhammer’s ‘little bit of bread but no cheese’ song and the snap, crackle and pop of the seed heads bursting in the sun’s heat.

Gorse is a fire-climax plant, well adapted to encourage and withstand fires, being highly flammable, and having seed pods that are to a large extent opened by fire or heat, this allows rapid regeneration. Typical fire recurrence periods in gorse stands are 5–20 years and this allows other habitats to take their turn in succession such as acid or calcareous grasslands.


Burnt gorse

 During the seventies and eighties large areas of gorse strewn hillsides were cleared under agricultural improvement grants at the same time we were removing miles of hedgerows and other countryside ‘improvements’. Yes, we are now replanting many but will it ever repair the damage that was done back then especially as we maintain the resulting hedges too neat and tidily. I still see linnet and yellowhammer on my local gorse patches but in nowhere near the abundance of those years past.

Gorse still gets bashed by all and sunder, even we in conservation manage it but where there are still places where you can see and hear the sound of gorse you should take the opportunity to sit and listen a while. Gorse is ideal for a range of nesting heathland, downland and farmland birds, including the rare Dartford warbler, stonechat, linnet and yellowhammer. Rabbits dig in the dry soils beneath and stoats hunt their prey labyrinth of warrens beneath.

The dense structure also provides important refuge for birds in harsh weather, and is essential for the survival of many in winter. Gorse is important for invertebrates; it is in flower for long periods, so is an important nectar source in early spring and early winter, when little else is in flower. A number of scarce invertebrates are dependent on it with several specific shield bugs permanent if not intolerably hard to spot inhabitants of the whin.

Gorse is part of our history, culture and our heritage and I for one stand up in praise of gorse.

Dead Badgers

I was out walking the other day enjoying an early morning stretch of the legs along the river; I was taking in the sounds of the woodland as the dawn chorus was filling the canopy, sandpipers shrieked from the river gravels and dippers bobbed and caught caddis larvae for their young.

The smell of ransoms filled my head with thoughts of food, it always does, its heady garlic aroma makes me think of all manner of wonderful cuisine. Anyway my thoughts were rudely interrupted by the excited yips of my dogs as they came across a large dead creature on the path just a few metres in front by the river Wansbeck.

Restraining the hounds of Cerberus I looked upon what was clearly a very recently deceased badger, so fresh indeed that rigor mortis had not yet fully set in. I have only occasionally come across dead badgers or other creatures for that matter that have died of ‘near’ natural causes, as they usually find somewhere out of sight to pass away. This one was lying right across the footpath.

I looked around for signs of a struggle, anything that could explain Brocks demise but nothing was obvious so I looked over the body. A male in good condition save for severe puncture and laceration marks around the neck and shoulder region, similar injuries, all very fresh, were around the nether regions. My suspicions were confirmed when I looked in his mouth and at his feet. Stiff badger hairs were lodged in his teeth and between his claws.



This badger had obviously fell foul to the rigours of badger society and paid the ultimate price, with his life. It is unusual but not unheard of but given the rigours of this dry spring he may have fell foul of food shortages, as the mainly eat earthworms, or purely the need for more space within a growing family. Whatever it was it was it was still strange to find it in such a situation but not as I say unusually to find predators attacked by their own kind or by others.

Dead as a door nail

Badgers are fiercely territorial creatures so this happens fairly regularly, if not so severely. However, other predators are less clear cut as to why they clash, it does however, invariably revolve around either one or two things all relating to competition; either for access to females or food and shelter. Sometimes though, it is just out of sheer might of authority. It happens very frequently throughout the animal kingdom (and I include humans within that kingdom) between the same species (intraspecific) or between different species (interspecific).

A few years ago I witnessed an otter kill and dismember a mink on the Isle of Mull, the first time it had ever been recorded, since then I have seen it several times and so have others such that we are safe in the knowledge that there is a great deal of antagonism between these two species and that this is reflected in the current distribution and population structure of the two species. Only last year I new of a mink family on the river Blyth who made the fatal mistake of birthing within the range of a female otter, she too gave birth but not before she had systematically hunted down and killed every mink from that family.

Nature can be a cruel spectacle but it is all done within reason and as I continued my walk, pondering the fate of poor old Bill Brock my attention was drawn by shrill whistles and flash of azure brilliance. Mrs kingfisher or Mr for that matter was bashing the hell out of a small fish to feed to his nearby brood clearly audible above the noise of the tumbling river. Another flash of colour and it disappeared into a hole in an exposed bank then in seconds it was back out to its perch above a trapped minnow shoal, the process was repeated over and over again and I watched till I was bored, or the dogs were and moved off comfortable that this was life, and death in nature. What a wonderful morning.