Kitabı oku: «Rewilding», sayfa 3
River Owenduff and blanket bog, Western Ballycroy National Park.
Wild Nephin National Park
Susan Callaghan
The Bangor Trail is an ancient cattle drovers trail that meanders along the western slopes of the Nephin Beg mountain range through the heart of Wild Nephin (Ballycroy) National Park – it leads you to a timeless place. Rainbows are often your welcome banner and a gentle reminder that this can be a ‘soft’ place where the mist and drizzle is only a rainbow away.
Stunning views immerse you in its enormity – but it can be a bit unsettling in its remoteness. It is not just a simple ‘walk in the park’. A few kilometres along the trail a lone, gnarled oak tree (crann darach) is a welcoming site in the vast expanse of heath and bog. It gives you comfort, like an oasis in the desert. This oak is a survivor, a gladiator in this wild world.
This long-distance trail (26 km) is the only access into the western side of the Nephin mountains and the Owenduff bog, the largest intact lowland blanket bog in Ireland. It is a wild expansive peatland – one of Ireland’s natural treasures. Looking west, the sunlight catches a mosaic of bog pools – a patchwork of life, glittering with the reflections of an ever-changing sky. It’s like a universe of planets, each one teeming with life, a minute world within the vast space of bog. The ruins of a cottage along the trail inspires reflection on the many lives that have passed here and, remarkably, some who would have lived here. It was a life dictated by the seaons, where summer grazing for stock brought people into the hills to live. This cottage is long abandoned and nature is reclaiming it. Lichens and mosses decorate the stones and a stunted rowan tree takes root in the tops of the tumbled wall – eeking out nutrients from the slow accumulation of soil in its cracks. The sound of silence can be overwhelming, interrupted occasionally by the guttural croak of a raven, or the descending trill of a meadow pipit. A flash of gold among the dancing bog cotton steals your attention and then a plaintive call. It is a golden plover calling to its mate. This beautiful bird is a delight, it is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Carabus clathratus, rare beetle typical of peat bogs.
The National Park is managed by the National Parks and Wildlife Service (NPWS), part of the Department of Arts, Heritage and Gaeltacht, and encompasses approx 14,000 ha, including a recent consolidation of lands to the east of the Nephin Beg mountain range, which previously had been managed by Coillte Teoranta (Coillte) for commercial forestry. These lands, like many of the peatlands in Ireland, were viewed as ‘marginal’ lands in the 1950s and 1960s and of little economic use – so they were drained, modified and planted to create the monoculture of Sitka spruce and lodgepole pine that now dominates the landscape. These uplands have also been characterised by decades of overgrazing by sheep – a consequence of the broken subsidised system of the European Agricultural Policy in the 1980s and 1990s. This led to serious overgrazing in the hills, with soil erosion, siltation of the rivers and loss of biodiversity.
The Nephin forest plantation is approx 4,000 ha and fringes the entire eastern section of the National Park up to an altitude of 250m on the eastern slopes of the Nephin Beg mountain range. NPWS acquired these lands with the specific intention to rewild and to allow natural processes to become the dominant driver in shaping this highly modified landscape – where biodiversity is enhanced, functioning ecosystems restored and people have the freedom to engage with nature. A place where the visitor can experience solitude and reconnect with nature. We intend for this area to be the ‘honey pot’ for the National Park, where visitors will have an opportunity to explore the rewilded landscape along a network of trails. From here the visitor can venture further into the heart of the National Park along the Bangor Trail, where there are opportunities for primitive and challenging recreation in a wild and remote landscape, free from mobile phone coverage, free of houses and roads, free from the noise of a busy world. A place where time passes slowly.
The National Park lands are divided into primitive, semi-primitive and semi-developed natural zones. These zones will guide us on how to manage recreational access, with the overarching theme of a minimal tool approach. The National Park is also designated as a Dark Sky Park, a designation from the International Dark Sky Association. We have committed to maintaining our pristine, unpolluted skies from light pollution.
The rewilding project is ambitious for such a large, highly modified area – and with no budget secured yet for conservation initiatives, or extra staff, the challenges can seem overwhelming when you look at the project in its entirety. The invasive Rhododendron ponticuum is a notable concern, with significant mature stands in the south of the site – with the prevailing strong westerly winds, the seeds spread with vigour and wild abandon.
The first major step, though, has been to set out the vision for the rewilding project. A ‘Conversion Plan’ was completed in 2018 setting out a strategy for the next 15 years, the vision to move from a commercial forestry plantation to a place where the conditions have been prepared for nature to become the dominant force. Specific measures have been identified for forested and non-forested areas, as well as riparian and aquatic zones. Blocking drains and bog restoration is essential to mitigate against flooding, improve water quality, and enhance linkages and wildlife corridors.
Felling of conifers over the next five years will be significant, with the purpose of creating an open and diverse forest with improved connectivity between bog, mountain, lakes and rivers. Habitat conditions throughout much of the plantation are currently not suitable for native woodland, so the vision is to develop low-density forest which will allow old growth. Broadleaf cover with native tree species will be promoted on suitable soils, as well as introduced tree species of high ecological value (Monterey pine). We will focus planting of native trees along riparian zones and where soils are drier.
We have already started planting small trial plots of trees (aspen, Scots pine, birch and rowan) to monitor success rate in various site conditions. There are significant pressures from grazing animals (deer and sheep), but we have planted aspen on steep ground to avoid browsing animals. The aspen has been propagated from various locations in the west. We hope to have tree-planting events where local community groups, volunteer groups and schools can come and get involved in the rewilding process.
Deer management as well as rhododendron clearance and control will be essential to allow native trees to establish. The concept of long-term management may be at odds with the overall principle of rewilding, where nature is the dominant force. Without natural predators, though, these two invasive species become the overall dominant force and hinder the natural processes – so it is likely that management of deer and rhododendron will need to continue into the future. Many rewilding projects include the introduction of top predators or large mammals – beaver, crane, black grouse, wolf, lynx – to create a trophic cascade that will balance the ecosystem. It is indeed visionary to try and establish the trophic levels that would have existed here during the postglacial period. Is this a feasible option, though, in Wild Nephin National Park? The state, as landowner, cannot rewild this area without the enthusiasm and support of the local communities. We want to maximise benefits for people as well as the environment. Benefits in terms of environmental services, opportunities to grow ecotourism and ‘cottage industry’ initiatives.
Ballycroy National Park.
The National Park should not be a separate place to the local community; it needs to be part of the community. This landscape has been influenced by humans since the Neolithic period. Ancient human remains, discovered by a local hillwalker in a natural boulder chamber in Ben Gorm (part of the Nephin range) in 2016, date back to 3,600 bce. Research suggests that this site was used as a burial chamber for over 1,000 years. The large ring fort, Lios na Gaoithe (Fort of the Wind), in the northeast of the rewilding site, would have been sited at a strategic location (500–1000 ce) with clear views south and north along the river valley. These views were lost as the conifers grew – but with time and sensitive management this important fort can become part of the wild landscape again, reconnecting the past to the present.
The possibilities are endless, our ambitions and vision are evolving all the time – but with initial small steps and with many steps together, we hope that this place, Wild Nephin National Park, will become an integral part of the community, allowing connection to our past, present and a wild future. A place where peace is found and nature is protected.
Large heath butterfly.
A Wetland Wilderness
Catherine Farrell
Hundreds of birds create shadows across the landscape. It’s winter. Curlew, lapwing, whooper swan and a range of other birdlife have flocked to the Lough Boora Discovery Park, in the heart of Ireland, to make use of the wide range of habitats that spread across over 3,000 ha of this Irish Midlands refuge.
The Boora Bogs have been central to many changes over the course of their history. Up until the early 1900s most of this area of middle Ireland was a rich tapestry of sphagnum-dominated raised bogs, with associated streams, bog woodland, flushes and the odd human settlement in between. A tranquil place, with little or no industry. But those deep and wet bogs were to become the source of the highly-valued peat that fed the Ferbane power station in County Offaly, and the domestic fire places of families across Ireland. To mine the resource, the great bogs were taken on by Bord na Móna (the Irish Turf Board) in the 1930s, working with the local communities who were forging a living in an otherwise bleak time, for the nascent Irish Republic. And so, the wild bog became industrial bog, and habitats and species that had existed there for millennia were pushed to the edges.
At the time, there was no one to shout ‘stop’. That didn’t come until the late 1970s and 1980s, when the view of the Irish bogs gradually shifted from being one of ‘resource and wasteland’ to ‘wildlife wonderlands and super ecosystems’. The work of ENGOs, such as the Irish Peatland Conservation Council, championed the bogs, and now they are seen more as heritage, than places only worthwhile once drained.
Now that the use of industrial peat is rapidly coming to an end, the future of the bare, barren, brown peat fields is in sight. The work by the Bord na Móna pioneers at Lough Boora has shown that with targeted and minimal intervention the cutaway bogs can be utterly transformed into a new tapestry, this time with wetlands, such as poor fen, marsh, open water, reedbed and pioneer birch woodland – all precursor habitats of the former great raised bogs. Each of these habitats is of value, and present opportunities for a wealth of species as well as a feast for the eyes and ears. A walk through Ballycon Bog during May will yield vistas of extensive bog cotton with breeding lapwing calling happily amidst a frame of birch woodland. And so, the bogs that had become electricity and heating, and supporting systems for tomato plants, are now the newborn wetland and woodlands mosaic within this rapidly changing landscape.
Because of the extent of the Bord na Móna lands – in the region of 80,000 ha, or thereabouts – there is room for everything. Local community walkways, targeted management for rare and ‘on the brink’ species like grey partridge, ecotourism, renewables in the shape of wind turbines and solar panels (you must produce electricity somehow!), and the space and solitude for true – what could be called – wilderness.
My own involvement in these landscapes began in the mid-1990s, when as a research student I was tasked with giving 6,500 ha of Bord na Móna industrial cutaway blanket bog, a helping hand ‘back to nature’. This was in the west of Ireland close to what is now referred to as the Wild Atlantic Way. The approach I took was to observe what happened when the cutaway bog was left to nature’s devices. What I found was that heavily modified landscapes do need a helping hand – especially those bare industrial cutaways of the west. Drain blocking, creating berms to hold water and allowing time for recovery proved to be the best approach. We worked together – nature and I – along with great support from the Mayo bogmen who drove the diggers and excavators, to rewet and rehabilitate the land. When the last drain was blocked, we let go of expectations and left the pockets of bog-moss to grow. And it does, slowly, steadily.
Next to the Midlands, in the mid-2000s, to basically do the same again, albeit on a grander scale. I began a journey of walking through those far less dramatic and exposed industrial bog units, learning from where peat fields had been taken out of production, and imagining how things would be when the Bord na Móna machines passed through that last time on their rehabilitation run. Where the deeper peat layers are exposed by industrial peat production, fen communities establish with fringes of birch. Where deep peat remains, these are the places where a bit of extra effort can recreate those sphagnum-dominated habitats and true bog formation can be restored.
Like in Ballydangan Bog in County Roscommon. Here, the Bord na Móna ploughs barely scratched the surface and this allowed the active raised bog to persist while peat harvesting continued in neighbouring bogs. Ballydangan Bog also acted as a space for the extremely rare Irish red grouse to persist, despite its disappearance from the surrounding bogs. The local gun club and wider community have taken charge here, working to control the fiercely unbalanced predator effect and sustain curlew and grouse, thankfully, successfully and promisingly.
The rehabilitation and restoration work on the Bord na Móna lands today is being coordinated by a small group of ecologists working with a wider team of bog engineers, project managers, surveyors and machine drivers. And, let’s not forget the finance people. But those who drained the bogs – the true bogmen – are critical to the successful post-peat phase. Draining a bog for decades creates an understanding of hydrology, and the fundamentals of ecology. Blocking drains, raising outfalls, turning off pumps – it’s all part of enabling the future.
The work to date has been truly transformative, with values for carbon, water, people, renewable energy and nature. With barely 15% of the lands rehabilitated or restored so far, and another 60,000 ha to go, who knows what benefits are to come? The network of sites across the Irish Midlands will link up other state and privately owned lands zoned for nature, and while people will have their place, it will be alongside thousands of species that will find space in an otherwise crowded-out-by-agriculture landscape. Some people talk about the possible return of the great bittern, lost to the wetland drainage of the last century. Others talk about reintroducing the crane. But maybe they’ll find these wetland-woodland mosaics on their own, along with who knows what other species.
Let’s leave that door, and our minds, open.
Four-spotted chaser, Whixall.
Rewilding the Marches Mosses
Joan Daniels
The key to landscape-scale rewilding of damaged wetlands is the restoration of the hydrological conditions necessary for their long-term self-maintenance. For 27 years, I have been lucky enough to lead Natural England/Natural Resources Wales’s rewilding of the centre of Fenn’s, Whixall, Bettisfield, Wem and Cadney Mosses Special Area of Conservation (the Marches Mosses), which straddles the English/Welsh border near Whitchurch in Shropshire, and Wrexham.
Over the last 10,000 years, a 1,000-ha rainwater-fed lowland raised bog climax community has developed there because of the amazing powers of sphagnum bog-moss. This has created cold-water-logged, nutrient-poor, acidic conditions: pickling a peat dome, 10 m higher than the current flat, drained landscape – swallowing up the wildwood and spreading over the plain of glacial outwash sand, to the limits of its enclosing moraines.
However, for the last 700 years, this huge wilderness has been drained for agriculture, peatcutting, transport systems and more recently forestry and even a scrapyard. By 1990, the centre of the moss had a peat-cutting drain every 10m and mire plants and animals had been eradicated from most of the site. Nationally, less than 4% of lowland raised mires were left in good condition by then: consequently, many raised bog plants and animals are internationally rare and raised bog is one of Europe’s most threatened habitats.
A large increase in the rate of commercial peatcutting in the late 1980s led NGOs to form the Peatlands Campaign Consortium, to save the Mosses and others like it. The campaign was driven by Shropshire Wildlife Trust’s (SWT) local volunteer Jess Clarke. North Wales Wildlife Trust staff, including myself, and SWT staff, aided by brave Nature Conservancy Council staff, particularly Mark July and Paul Day, pushed to get the government to take on the restoration of this devastated site. The realisation that there was not enough raised bog in good condition to meet Britain’s international conservation obligations, combined with the new peat-extraction company finding that the Mosses’ peat quality was inadequate to meet their site-rental costs, resulted in the Nature Conservancy acquiring the centre of the Moss in 1990.
Cowberry.
Since then, Natural England and Natural Resources Wales have been doggedly acquiring more of the bog, clearing smothering trees and bushes, damming ditches and installing storm-water control structures. SWT mirrored this on the smaller Wem Moss, at the south of the peat body. The knowledge of our local team of ex-peatcutters, particularly Bill Allmark, and Andrew and Paul Huxley, has been invaluable in understanding how to reconstruct the Mosses.
In 2016, a land-purchase opportunity led to a successful funding bid by a partnership of Natural England, NRW and SWT for the five-year, €7-million European and Heritage Lottery-funded Marches Mosses BogLIFE Project, which aims to make a step change in the rate of rewilding of the Mosses.
Importantly, the project addresses a problem affecting all British raised mires – the loss of our mire-edge ‘lagg’ (fen, carr and swamp communities), whose high-water table sustains the water table in the mire’s central expanse. Restoring the lagg involves buying marginal forests and woodland and clearing their smothering trees, buying fields, disconnecting their under-drainage, stripping their turf and reseeding with mire species. A new technique of linear cell damming or ‘bunding’ the peat then restores water levels. Lagg streams, canalised within the peat during the Enclosure Awards, to lower marginal water tables, will be moved back to the bog’s margin, so peats can be hydrologically re-united. And all without affecting our neighbours!
The project also involves adjusting dams on the central mire areas and bunding peats which haven’t got a cutting pattern to dam. The project even addresses clearing up the scrapyard and beginning to tackle the problem which is affecting most nature conservation sites nationally – high levels of aerial nitrogen pollution and, at the Moss, its consequent high coverage of purple moor-grass.
So why bother with this mammoth struggle on such a damaged peatland? In the 1980s, the main driver was biodiversity – its unusual bog wildlife, its cranberries, all three British sundew species, lesser bladderwort, white-beaked sedge, its raft spiders, large heath butterflies and moth communities, including Manchester treble-bar, silvery arches and argent and sable moth. Despite its devastation, this huge site provided corners for rare wildlife to hide in, waiting for the restoration of mire water tables. Today crucial bog-mosses have recolonised central areas and flagship species like the white-faced darter have been dragged back from the brink of extinction. Now, in spring, rare mire picture-winged species like Idioptera linnei dominate the cranefly community and the mire spider community is breaking national records. Regularly, invertebrate species, often new to either countries or counties, like micro-moth Ancyllis tineana, emerge from hiding, and the wetland bird community now is of national importance.
But today the driver for rewilding the Mosses is also restoration of the ecosystem services provided by a functioning bog – regulation of water quality and flow (particularly important with increasingly frequent flood events), re-pickling the bog’s vast carbon stores so their release doesn’t add to climate change and encouraging future carbon sequestration.
The growing pride for the restored Mosses in the local community and the increasing numbers of visitors from far afield, boosting the local economy, are a testament to the success of rewilding this quagmire and will be helped by further sensitive provision through the BogLIFE Project.
Wading through knee-high bog-moss on Clara Bog in central Ireland some years ago, brought home to me the potential resilience of bogs and their capacity to regenerate themselves after damage. The bog was acting like a giant shape-shifting amoeba: localised marginal drainage for domestic peatcutting had made the crown of the bog dome move, channelling more water and nutrients to a shrunken area, accelerating the accumulation of bog-moss and ultimately restoring the bog’s profile. Even at our devastated Marches Mosses, particularly with the challenges of climate change, the only viable option for the landscape seems to be a return to functioning raised bog. The bog is shrinking towards the lowered water table set by Enclosure Act culverts, making other land uses progressively less economically viable. Now forests fall down, marginal fields flood and pumping costs have become more expensive and cause further peat shrinkage.
Now, like at Fenn’s and Whixall, it is the time to capitalise on these devastating consequences of past drainage, to be bold, to grasp opportunities and to rewild our wetlands and regain their age-long benefits for all of us.
Curlew in flight.
