Everbrown?

The forest around the Croft is full of Holm oak, Quercus ilex. Holm oak is evergreen and so our valley has always been a green place, even in the hottest summers. But this year - the second year of drought in Montseny - the trees have turned brown. 

The picture would look normal, in autumn in a deciduous forest. But here in the Holm oak forests of Catalonia it's a sign of death.

Thirsty trees

Groups of Holm oak have either died or gone into some form of drought hibernation. Around here these patches of brown seem to be associated with soil disturbance - a new path here, a drain dug there.

 

The die-back has been general, affecting all the plant life (and, we assume, some of the fauna too).

Pasture limits

In August, finally, it rained, and first the grasses and then the trees have been slurping up the water, and putting out new green shoots. 

And still governments take too little action on climate change. Shame on them.

Dry, and dry again

 It's hot and dry at the Croft:

All burnt and brown

The grasses have all died as have most of the flowering plants. The trees are holding out but the ground-water level is dropping, so they too will start to suffer. At 3pm today the thermometer read 35ºC and it has been like that for days. The forecast says it will stay like this for at least the next ten days, maybe longer.

For days, and for years, because this is the second summer in a row with low, low rainfall. So far this year we have had 211mm of rain (211 litres per square metre). By the end of July last year we had had 249mm, but both are more than 33% below the average for the first seven months of the year, 377mm.

 

 

 

 

We have started looking into getting water delivered, because our well is showing signs of distress. So far it's holding out, but for how long?

All of this is - of course - a precursor of the life we are going to have to lead as the climate emergency hits. Extreme temperatures - and the associated risks of forest fire - and resource shortages, starting with water.

 

Places like Montseny will be the canaries in our climate coal mine - crying out as the climate crisis strikes, warning us about the limits of growth, of consumption and of greenhouse gas emissions. 

 

Will our leaders listen? Will we, humanity, listen?

A Tankful of Tadpoles

With the lovely wet Spring, our irrigation tank is brimming with tadpoles, with at least two varieties present. I have NO idea how to identify juvenile amphibians, and have already made a mistake in this area, so over to you to tell me what they are:

Heid that, Jimmy

Wet Spring

We have a beatiful wee spring here at the Croft. Opened up by the previous owners, it is marked on the Montseny map as running all year. For the last ten years - thanks to climate change here - the spring has been silent all summer.

But in the six months since December we have had 40% more rain than the average, the wettest spring since 2010. So the spring runs.

Newt it's Not

I thought that we had spotted newts in the seasonal river ('riera' in Catalan) that flows from our spring. But I did not, of course, have my camera.

So I took the camera, and photographed what I thought was a cute young Marbled Newt, Triturus marmoratus, in our very clean spring water:

Newt to be missed

But I was wrong. My friends over at the Montseny Newt LIFE research programme have told me that it's a juvenile salamander, Salamandra salamandra...

Like the newts, the salamanders need the river while they grow - you can just see her external gills in the picture - but then disappear into the grass and woodland as the riera dries up in the summer.

 I'm still sure we have newts. So I'll keep dropping in to the river to see what I can photograph...

Custard and Prunes go for a swim

Custard and Prunes go for a swim, while Jenny looks on.

Muscovy ducks - silent swimmers.