Blue moor grass

The sun rose this morning into a nearly cloudless sky, and as Gus and I walked over the Knott there were beams of sunlight streaming through trees onto the limestone grassland below, which sparkled with raindrops from the night showers. The blue moor grass (Sesleria caerulea) is flowering now, one of the earliest grasses to do so, its stamens dangling in the air to release their pollen on the wind.

Sesleria is a defining species of the grasslands of the Carboniferous limestones of northern England. In the absence of grazing, this tough grass becomes dominant as its tussocks grow and the thatch of dead leaves builds up. The smaller herbs and grasses are competitively excluded. This is why the National Trust have brought in the conservation team of hardy traditional cattle breeds - the Highlands, British Whites, and Belted Galloways. The grasslands have opened up, the herbs are coming back, the anthills are growing, and there are more green woodpeckers feeding on the ants - a result.

Sesleria is not all bad. Here and at only one other English location, the caterpillars of the scotch argus butterfly feed on the grass. In Scotland, they feed on the similarly named, but not closely related purple moor grass (Molinia caerulea). If last year was a guide, the scotch argus is thriving under the new grazing regime on the Knott.

One more thing of interest about the plant, it's absent from the limestones and chalk of southern England, yet across the channel to Normandy, and there it is abundant on the French chalk.

Yesterday, I wondered if today I would hear my first willow warbler of the year. I have so often heard my first bird on the 11th, and this morning there was one singing sweetly just outside our garden.

Wifie has had a long day, taking Sophie back to York, and as I write this she is still on her way back home. Gus and I have been at home, me working, him looking longingly at me, willing me to take him out for another walk on this fine day.