Perhaps the saddest sight I have seen in the natural world since we came to Dorset has been that of dead and dying ash trees. Ash thrives on chalk landscapes, so we have plenty in the county, but now as many as 90 percent of them are infected by ash dieback disease, which first appeared in Britain in 2012.
The fungus which kills the trees sometimes takes years to finish them off, but not a few are already dead. The disease strips off the leaves so some of the big old gnarled ones appear twisted in their final agony, while the younger ones, with their bare upward pointing branches and twigs, seem as if they are imploring mercy. Many more have dead parts to them, and driving round the countryside the progression is obvious; in many of Dorset’s ash woods you can see the dead trees from a great distance away.
I find it a particularly distressing sight because I have always loved the ash; it is a tree full of grace and elegance, one which has always played a major role in country life, with its light and flexible wood which was the main source of timber for tool handles. In Norse mythology the ash was central: it was known as Yggdrasil, the tree of life, and it is heartbreaking to think that the tree of life may disappear, as Britain’s elms did in the 1970s and 1980s when they were attacked by Dutch elm disease, another fungus, this one spread by beetles.
However, in one of the most heartening pieces of environmental news this summer, it was reported that new generations of wild ash trees are rapidly evolving resistance to the fungus, although it is too early to say if the development could outpace the destruction currently being caused.
In a study reported in the journal Science, researchers found that the large number of seedlings a mature ash can produce—up to 10,000 from a single tree—gave enormous scope for resistance to the fungus to evolve, and this was taking place. Professor Richard Nichols, from Queen Mary University of London, was quoted as saying: “We have to be cautious. We can’t say the ash is saved, but we are in a position to say it’s looking promising. We are watching evolution happen and what’s remarkable is that it’s happening so quickly, in a single generation.”
Certainly, most of our current ash trees will go, like the elms did—it is in the new seedlings that the resistance is developing. But it looks like we may be able to replace our ash woods eventually, in a way that has not been possible with our elms.
— And in another heartening wildlife event, it was revealed last month that a pair of white-tailed eagles have nested in Dorset this summer and produced a chick. Our biggest bird of prey was hunted to extinction in southern England in the 18th century, but a reintroduction programme based on the Isle of Wight is proving successful: a pair have now raised chicks for three years in a row in Sussex, and this year saw the first successful Dorset nest in more than 240 years. The male and female birds paired up two years ago around Poole Harbour and last year they several times drifted right over our village, which is more than 20 miles away, causing great excitement among local birders. I am not aware that they have been seen over the village this year; they clearly had more important things to do than go a-wandering. It’s wonderful news. We seem to be very good at bringing back big bird species: look at the osprey, which raised its first Dorset chicks near Poole Harbour last year. I only wish we could do it with small things, with red-backed shrikes and willow tits and lesser spotted woodpeckers. Their disappearance matters just as much.
