Did they know that they would become this?
Breckland, after the ice sheets.
The most formidable glacial advance in the entire Pleistocene is named ‘Anglian’. The East Anglian peninsula was swallowed by it – this meadow once looked like Greenland. As the climate warmed, standing blocks of ‘dead’ ice were left behind, eventually to be topped with soil and grass like surviving examples in polar regions. The Inuit word pingo is used to describe such hillocks with a heart of ice. They would have stood tall over the flat Breckland landscape, but they pressed into the soil like a knee.
But they melted, in time. Now, their legacy is ponds. The ghosts of lost hills, water-filled depressions carved by ancient glacial games.
Breckland is rich in pingo ponds, also known as kettle ponds. It is also very rich in dragonflies, rare beetles, great crested newts and other species that appreciate wet habitats. Northern clade pool frogs, the UK’s rarest amphibian, made its last stand in the pingo ponds, and has recently been reintroduced.
Away from the water, other species exploit the meadows. Six spot burnet moths are hard to overlook.
I heard many birds calling, but didn’t get any good photos of them today. Here’s a couple from another Breckland visit a couple of weeks back: goldfinch…
And a juvenile blue tit.
Two very common British species, but the Brecks can do far better; it has stone curlew, turtle dove and many other specialities. In total, nearly 13,000 different species of wild things have been identified, and many have comfortably rubbed shoulders with farming for millennia. Poppies on the edge of an arable field are a reminder of that.
And all of it, from the soil to the sky, is a reminder of the ice.
Beautiful post, Adele. I love the idea of the landscape developing over such a long time, and the birds that are here now probably have developed and changed over the eons too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You certainly get a sense here that the landscape is dynamic. Brecks has always taken that to an extreme – parts of it are really an inland dune system and until tree planting stabilised it, the sand very much did its own thing. It invaded a village in the 17th century and nearly overwhelmed it!
The common poppy Papaver rehoeas (the one in the picture) is from the Mediterranean but migrated to Britain with very early farmers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for this very interesting and informative post, Adele.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I find geological history fascinating. 10,000 years is a relatively short amount of time and look at all that came about since the ice melted. Miraculous!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Young in comparison, but it’s had its fair fill of human history too! Breckland was once ruled by Queen Boadicea, who famously rebelled against the Roman rulers. It’s also the site of Britain’s only known mammoth butchery and has Neolithic flint mines at Grimes Graves.
LikeLiked by 1 person
UK is so rich in human history, it amazes most of us young whippersnappers over here. 😉
LikeLike
Geological lifetimes are so long. When I read about how certain areas developed (like your post) I am very strongly reminded of the damage we humans can so easily and carelessly do.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Breckland is one of the more encouraging stories. Farming has always been part of the landscape and many rare species are dependent on it (to the extent that non-farmed areas, like military land, have to recreate farming-style disturbance). But like everywhere else, commercial agriculture in the Brecks has become more intensive over time with all the attendant environmental issues. A cluster of forty farms are now working together to conserve nature at a landscape level: https://brecklandfarmerswildlifenetwork.org/
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much for the link – interesting piece. I didn’t know that such dependency exists in some areas. Cheers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This makes me sad again that I probably won’t be able to come this year because of the quarantine regulations.
LikeLike
Oh, that is a shame. The covid travel rules are very confusing and seem to be changing all the time. I hope by next year the situation is more stable and it will be easier for all of us.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice one! And I like that photo of a goldfinch – European version. When I came to Canada I was surprised to see that they are actually all yellow 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
I never understood why our version isn’t called a tricolour finch!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, that would be a more appropriate name. In Serbia, we are using 2 names for them, one is local (češljugar) and the other comes from German stieglitz, but pronounced a little bit different (štiglić).
Now that I think of it, I will try to find First Nations names for birds in BC 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
Very interesting and I enjoyed your photos. I like the way you knit together dynamics and relationships over time and between nature and human practices.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Carol. So many stories in the landscape when we stop to look 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people