Countryman's Diary: Haven of peace amid the pines

These are bordered by the surrounding trees, usually densely planted in regimented rows so that they provide welcome shelter from the cutting winds which can slice across the exposed heights to chill one's fingers and numb one's ears.

In this region we are fortunate to have a large number and a great variety of such forests, many being planted and maintained by the Forestry Commission while others, often of a smaller size, appear to have natural origins, in this case often sharing the ground with deciduous trees.

In all cases, however, there is a welcome peace within those coniferous forests - somehow, they seem to offer long periods of blissful silence and solitude, broken only by the sighing of the breeze among the trees and the pervading and pleasant pine-scented aroma. It is a clean and clinical scent and it is perhaps this which adds to that all-embracing sense of peace which is so much part of the enjoyment of a pine forest.

From time to time, however, there are criticisms that a man-made forest of conifers tends to obliterate all other forms of natural life, but in fact the soil of our upland regions is often incapable of sustaining a variety of broad- leaved trees.

One has only to gaze across the open expanse of the North York moors or the heights of the Pennine dales to realise that naturally-grown trees are very scarce in the most exposed places, their numbers producing the occasional hawthorn permanently bent by the prevailing winds, or, in hollows, a clutch of mountain ashes which have the uncanny ability to survive in places which would defeat others.

In those high, bleak and remote places, however, the conifers can flourish, even if they sometimes require a helping human hand - with knowledge of fertilisers, soil and ploughing techniques.

In my part of North Yorkshire, two such forests - the Hambleton forest above Ampleforth and Allerston forest above Pickering - were planted in the 30s, each occupying high moorland ground.

In the early days of those man-made forests, few members of the public were allowed to venture into them but as the trees matured and grew taller, there was less risk of damage to them and so the forests were opened to ramblers and even private cars. Indeed, the forest drive through Allerston forest has developed into one of the main attractions of the area, along with picnic sites and parking places which allow the woodland to be enjoyed by all.

So if forests of conifers are reputed to obliterate most forms of wildlife, what can one expect to see within their boundaries? The answer is a very large variety, ranging from plants to birds via animals and insects.

But like all nature walks, one has to be alert to the possibility of sighting elusive creatures or finding unusual plants and, of course, one must appreciate the vagaries of the seasons and the shyness of many wild forest dwellers.

Although the population of wild creatures will necessarily vary from place to place and from forest to forest, many of these more dense woodlands will support deer, both fallow and roe, and in some cases there might even be red deer.

Foxes and badgers can be found too, along with rabbits, stoats, weasels and voles, while from time to time one gets reports of pine martens or polecats being observed, although one must always be aware that these might have been wild mink.

There is a wealth of birdlife too. Pheasants, wood pigeons and tawny owls appear to enjoy living in pine forests while the colourful jay is also a forest-lover. Although it is shy and reclusive, its presence is often betrayed by its raucous warning cry, while the conifers are host to a range of smaller birds like goldcrests, siskins, goldfinches and even crossbills.

These dumpy finches have curious beaks, the tips of which are crossed to enable them to extract seeds from pine cones with a twisting operation; the female is a dull, greenish colour while her partner is a warm brick-like pink with dark wings.

Added to the likelihood of seeing birds and animals, there is also the chance of coming across an exotic or rare plant but for that kind of experience, and to recognise what is growing upon the forest floor, one needs a greater botanical knowledge than I possess.

What all this means, however, is that we should not consider that life stops at the edge of a pine forest One has only to venture into those dark depths to appreciate that a whole new world awaits those who have the desire to see what is living around them.

More visitors

Following my recent bird-table notes, I can report visits to my own garden of a pair of siskins while my Knaresborough correspondent now adds a female blackcap to his list of visitors.

Last week, I referred to a rather aggressive male blackcap which had fed at his table, this being noteworthy as the blackcap normally flies to the warm climate of Africa for the winter, although some may linger in the south of England.

The presence of a female blackcap in winter is unusual for that reason, but also because warblers (and the blackcap is a warbler) do not pair for life. So has this female decided to remain behind for the winter and if so, why?

I am assured she has not been seen with the male bird and so her independent presence is interesting. The female blackcap is a small grey bird with a neat, reddish-brown cap on her head while the male counterpart has a distinctive black cap.

The topic of birds has also prompted correspondence from a reader in Cotherstone who refers to my notes about alternative names for the robin. One of those was chat thrush, a name used in Scotland, and my correspondent points out that, in East Africa, several robin chats are listed under the generic group of thrushes - that is, common, red capped, blue shouldered, rueppell's, heuglen's snowy crowned and white crowned. He adds, however, that none of these is likely to be seen in this country.

So far as the word chat is concerned, however, some of our other birds do bear that name as a suffix, for example the stonechat and whinchat, both of whom are members of the thrush family. The whinchat does spend its winter in Africa and one must therefore ponder whether it ever meets its other chatty cousins over there.

Garden gripe

My Cotherstone correspondent also refers to my notes about the gripe, and to my story that when visiting an ironmonger's shop in Darlington to ask for a gripe, the assistant had no idea what I wanted. In the North Riding of Yorkshire, a gripe is a type of pronged fork used for gardening - lifting potatoes or shifting manure - but his comments raise the question of the number of prongs on a gripe.

My own gripe has four but some reference books suggest only three while I am now wondering if a two-pronged fork, like those used during hay time, might also be classified as a gripe.

Perhaps gripes come in different shapes, sizes and styles and so it might be possible that gripes in West Yorkshire have three prongs, those in North Yorkshire have four, while some, in the Teesdale area, might only boast two.

My Concise Oxford Dictionary adds to the confusion by suggesting a gripe is the handle of a tool or implement, while a more universal dictionary adds that gripe means a grip or a grasp while also meaning a handle (from the Middle English gripen and the Old English gripan, this being of Germanic origin).

It might be possible, therefore, that when referring to a gripe we are really making reference to the handle, and that it does not matter how many prongs are at the end of it! I might add that I have never heard a table fork described as a gripe.

A correspondent from Nunthorpe, near Middlesbrough, makes reference to my query about the plural of ox being oxen by reminding me that children used to be childer.

It's all to do with declension in weak nouns, "weak" being a good example of ignotum per ignotious, which means the explanation is more obscure than the thing it is meant to explain. I like that