Stanmer Park, on the edge of Brighton. Folk flock there in early May for the bluebells under a more or less uniform age beech wood. But I was a bit late in May for them at their best – so no bluebells here.

Instead I bring you death. Ash dieback, seen above as a leaning trunk, and some other sections lying neatly along the path. In the canopy some leafless twiggery of dead ash trees. All this is small secondary regrowth – probably got into open spaces following the big storm night in 1987 – so no older than 30 and a bit years.
I was on a guided walk with Friends of Stanmer Park, and the group consisted of volunteers who spend time maintaining/improving habitat in other green spaces in and around Brighton – so there was lots of wildlife knowledge. Thus I got to hear of a recent research paper which casts doubt on the established forestry aim of maximising tree cover, or canopy. The work showed that woodland flora has been in more or less continuous decline since this approach was adopted – not so surprising as green plants need light even on the floor of a woodland. Our speaker likened ash dieback to coppicing (but with extra death presumably) – it opens the ground and allows smaller plants to flourish. With suitable management we might achieve, he said, more open woodland with a wider variety of tree and understorey species.
Some decades ago I had lunch with a South American botanist/anthropologist. He said that the tropical forest areas he had worked in showed clear signs of very long term management by the local people. They helped useful species thrive, planted other values species in clearing they created, and spent their time doing the rounds of harvesting and maintaining their very large “gardens”. Perhaps that is how we should treat our forests, dumping the silly idea that we are separate from nature, foolish post-industrial revolution concept that causes more trouble than its worth.
I did hear a chiff-chaff, my first this spring, but discovered that the goldcrests apparently all around us were sadly silent to me, their call being too high for my old ears.

On the upside I had by attention drawn to two trees near the tropical plant glasshouse (between Stanmer House and the One Garden). Their flowers give them their common names – foxglove tree and handkerchief tree. I picked these flowers up off the ground. The handkerchief is an adapted leaf (called a bract – I know, its the company I keep!). But this bit is my own idea – the pollinators are short sighted so the trees which had bigger, brighter white hankies to wave beside the small flowers gained an evolutionary advantage.

After the joys of trees I sought directions for the rainwater catcher. This is a Grade II listed structure – badly broken sloping concrete slab is a fairer description – which drains into a brick chamber. From there the water flowed through pipes and some filter beds to a holding tank a bit nearer Stanmer House. I had heard that there used to be a roof structure over the concrete, but I found no evidence of this. Apparently there is a model of it as was in the Stanmer Preservation Society bookshop, open at weekends.

If you desire to visit this historic gem – and why wouldn’t you – the easiest way is to follow the path below, from the road immediately north and parallel to One Garden.

The catcher is at the far end, close to but hidden from the Upper Lodges to village road. This entrance gives a small idea of how prettily these gardens must once have been. Now gradually returning to the earth – apparently. On Thursdays and Saturdays you can buy wild flower plants and seeds from the folk at a polytunnel halfway down the track on the right. They are The Wildflower Conservation Society, check plants and opening times before going.

On the way towards the Lewes Road and buses home I walked through this delightful display of cowslips, down in the SE corner of the park, near the playing fields. Not bluebells, but thought they might do instead.
I will close with the phrase John Ebdon used to close every edition of his long running BBC Archive programme: “If you have been, thanks for listening”.