Normally I talk about long-term wildlife targets “falling” upon conversion, but that doesn’t seem the most apt phrase in the first instance that follows. I spent this morning in a churchyard that has a reputation in my neighbouring county of Bucks for its variety and scarcity of fungi, especially wishing to observe the site speciality Scarlet Waxcap. Others of that genus were apparent immediately upon walking in, then I noticed something black and white and fairly large close to a boundary hedge.

Walking over and realising what it was I exclaimed: “Oh, you beauty” upon beholding a prime Common Stinkhorn (Phallus impudicus). I keep an eye open for these must-sees every late autumn, and just three previous records to date were gone over, broken and puny in that order. This one (pictured below) was rather more the ticket. And there it was: brooding, moody and almost magnificent in the subdued light of its chosen surroundings.

I say “almost” because maybe nothing conveys the fragility of newly emerged mushrooms and their immediate attack by slugs more than the expanded polystyrene-textured stems of this small group. In that regard today’s around 14 cm tall specimen looks less striking now herein than it did in the field. But the dark olive, slime-covered tip shows it is still young. The partially buried, egg-like ball from which the erect stipe thrust upward was impressive indeed, being at perhaps 8 cm in diameter much more substantial than those of Dog (see here) and Devil’s Fingers (here) stinkhorns I have observed in the past.

This is a not uncommon fungus throughout the British Isles, continental Europe and parts of north America; but being so short lived they are difficult to locate at the pictured stage. Unfortunately, this late in the season there were no flies in attendance to attack and thereby pollinate today’s mildly smelly item as they quickly do, which could explain why the slime or gleba was still intact while the stem was already deteriorating. Dawn is said to be the best time at which to locate Stinkhorns that have burst from their eggs overnight in pristine condition, before either flies or slugs get to work, if you might know where to look for them. Once the gleba has been dispersed the white stipes may persist for several days.

I was very pleased to have stumbled upon this much sought item today. After walking on from the encounter I was engaged with by the vicar, who knows his mushrooms and is well used to mycologists being around the place. The location is Holy Trinity churchyard, Prestwood (HP16 0HJ – SU 874996) where fungi and wild plants survive that occur nowhere else in the region (see here). The site represents a rare remnant of original acid grass heath that was once prevalent on ancient Chiltern commons but almost all destroyed when enclosed in the mid-19th century. Here the combination of no agri-chemical fertiliser or pesticide use, regular mowing and removal of cuttings, creates ideal conditions for what is known as a “Waxcap grassland” in which that group of often diminutive mushrooms flourish. The number of species recorded here puts it amongst the best known sites.

Scarlet Waxcaps, a colourful churchyard speciality

My host now showed me a cluster of Scarlet Waxcap (above left), my original reason for visiting, but they had unfortunately been run over, carelessly by something that had left a tyre mark in the turf. I nonetheless located a few intact specimens here amongst more Waxcap species and other habitat specialists that I do not feel experienced enough to discuss. Scarlet Waxcap (Hygrocybe coccinea), also known as Scarlet Hood is most usually found from September to November on cropped grassland, old lawns, parkland and churchyards with plenty of moss. The caps are 2 to 5cm in diameter and slimy when young, fading from blood red through orange to yellowish from the edge as they age. The stems and gills are similarly brightly toned.

My top target for today had thus been converted, and with the bonus of a truly stonking Stinkhorn this was a memorable foray in an environment that quite literally seemed from a former age. I will definitely be paying more attention to other churchyards and their fungi in the future.

The posts herein on the fruiting cycles of Magpie and Shaggy Inkcaps have both had multiple referrals through the current fungi season. Since the former played its part in stimulating my initial interest in mycology back in 2020 (see here) I have encountered those iconic items year on year, needing to resist the temptation to take more pictures than the many I have already. But I had only recorded the latter once previously when I managed to capture the entire fruiting cycle amongst one cluster in October 2021 (see here).

Alternative common names for this post’s subject are “Shaggy Mane” and “Lawyer’s Wig”. This year I have realised those must apply most aptly to stage three fruits when they are beginning to go over. Things began earlier this autumn when I found a darkly alluring duo (pictured below, centre) at Highmoor Common, Oxon that quite fired my imagination. Then this week on Wednesday (15th), visiting Lane End churchyard (SU 805915) to look for something else, I stumbled upon several Shaggies instead. Three were in the critical stage (outer items) but most were first day fruits, so this could clearly become an opportunity to gain further images of the more striking “barrister’s bad hair day” phase.

I returned to track the group on Thursday afternoon (16th), finding two items with black lower rims to their dissolving caps (below, left and right), but without the more wig-like quality of the Highmoor Common pair. The two barristers on the right of the first sequence were by now part way through summing up their cases (centre below). Some younger fruits had reached prime stage two condition, while more were emerging.

On Friday morning (17th) there was nothing new to record so I made a repeat visit in the afternoon that was very productive. Several Shaggies in the cluster of various sizes had by then reached their third stage that I most wanted to record (top row below and lead picture), while more dissolving fruits offered attractive studies (bottom row below, left and right). In this first serious workout, my new Nikkor all-in-one camera lens with its superior autofocus was performing much better than it’s predecessor.

Stage 3 (above) and 4 (below) Shaggy Inkcaps and a fine stage 2 in Mousells Wood

On 15th I had also found a large stage two specimen in nearby Mousells Wood (SU 789912). Checking things out on my way home on 16th it was still in that prime condition so this was my first port of call on Friday morning (17th). It appeared to be in no hurry, having barely progressed over the two days so far. By late afternoon it was just beginning to turn (second row, centre above). I now wondered if Shaggy’s fruiting cycle might be slower than Magpie, hoping so as I work all day on Saturdays. Alas on Sunday morning (19th) it and a second previously unseen specimen nearby (pictured below) had both collapsed.

The complete fruiting cycle of a quite beguiling, even dramatic mushroom had thus been recorded more graphically than first time around. Mission had likewise been accomplished and this was indeed a quite rewarding repeat visit exercise. As barristers on a bad hair day or otherwise might say: “I rest my case”.

At 48 miles from home this was an obvious British list addition to go for. I had recorded the bird just once before, it being one of my more memorable solo self-finds abroad at a remote location in western Cyprus in April 2012. But when news of one at a permit only reserve in Milton Keynes broke overnight on Tuesday (7th) I chose to wait for things to calm down a bit.

The hide in question would clearly be rammed for the first couple of days, which is not a situation I enjoy. Limited access times for non-members, with a queuing and rota system for viewing were off-putting constraints I didn’t want to deal with. When I twitched two of several available national Spotted Crake in the autumn of 2018 (see here) it was said migratory juveniles if in moult were likely to stick around for a while, so I hoped that would be the case again here.

By Thursday (9th) access had reverted to permit only that were purchasable online. This struck me as very sensible as it might serve to favour serious birders and deter more casual interest, quite apart from generating revenue for reserve upkeep and the work of the Parks Trust (see here) that manages it and other MK open spaces. So I decided to visit on Friday, needing to get out after a week spent mainly at home decorating. Linford Lakes NR (SP842428 – MK14 5AH) is a 37 hectare former gravel pit complex that was established as a wildlife research centre in 1970, and is described as the most bio-diverse site in the area.

I arrived just after 3pm to be greeted by friendly and helpful volunteer stewards, one of whom took me down to the Otter Hide. As we approached some birders came out who said my quest was showing close in. It seemed strange they should be leaving but that of course meant there would be more room inside. All seats were taken, with a few people standing behind and everyone was straining towards a spot in the lakeside vegetation where the Little Crake was said to be. I managed to secure a standing position with a clear view right in the corner of the hide, but couldn’t yet connect.

Amongst the seated birders I picked out Ewan, who had been in place since 7am, and some other familiar faces. Within 15 minutes the bird was called again moving back into view and now I saw it clearly. Then it rose in the air, almost hovering as it flew quite slowly to one side in a very Crake-like pose with legs dangling. This item was thus well and truly ticked for Blighty. Given such a quick conversion and my previous experience in Cyprus it must be a lucky species for me. All Crakes are of course skulkers and there had been long intervals between other observers in the hide getting their pictures.

With the light fading people now began to drift away, while I stayed until 4pm obtaining another brief and more distant sighting. The lateness of this day’s excursion was due to having waited in for delivery of a new camera lens. The 18 – 250mm Sigma baby zoom I have relied on since my previous Nikkor telefoto expired had followed suit earlier in the week. Now for a very reasonable £385 I have acquired a vgc used Nikkor 18 – 300mm all-in-one that should be a superior product. I find such entry level equipment very suitable for gaining this journal’s close-up images of insects, wild plants and fungi; but take it along on bird twitches too and see if I can get anything half decent. The previous three lenses of the last 13 years all jammed eventually, which seems to be their fate.

Little Crake breeds in freshwater wetlands across much of eastern Europe and into western Asia, wintering in north and north-eastern Africa. At 17 – 19cm they are smaller than the more frequent Spotted Crake, with a short greenish bill showing a red base and long wings, green legs with long toes, and a short tail that is barred black and white underneath. Adults have mainly brown upperparts and plain flanks, and juveniles barred flanks compared to the similar Baillon’s Crake. Face and underparts are plain slate grey in males, and buff to whitish in females and juveniles.

This is a scarce vagrant to the British Isles. The Milton Keynes bird, a county first for Bucks also offered a rare opportunity at an inland location. Having bought the permit it would clearly be sensible to come back for more and stay for longer if the Crake lingered. But it was not reported again so as things turned out I was doubly lucky. With this record, my 382nd British bird, I have now observed nationally all three of the wetland Crakes listed in Collins, and also have Corncrake as a heard only record.

Footnote: This twitch raised £3855 for the Parks Trust (see here), £2820 from 141 new site permits and £1035 in cash donations from visiting birders.

I have featured several Amantitae fungi previously in this journal and here is another one. Why such a bias? This genus comprises large, sometimes stately mushrooms that are often easy to recognise and hence I can present them with confidence. The subject of this latest post is no exception.

Back in August I speculated the fungi season might be underway early after such a wet July (see here), but not so as things turned out. There followed an exceptionally mild and dry “Indian summer”, succeeded by a wet late autumn. The result, moving into November is a luxuriant profusion of mushrooms wherever we go to seek them out. Everywhere that is but the Fly Agaric spectacle at North Leigh Common (see here), that for a second year running was wiped out at its peak by West Oxon District Council contractors; I suppose when the job sheet says bracken has to be cut … absolutely mindless!!!

After tracking the Verdigris Agaric through its fruiting cycle in south-east Oxon (see previous post), I switched attention to Oakley Wood (SP612118) in the Bernwood Forest complex of butterfly fame that lies just across the county border around 20 minutes from my home. Here, amongst quantities of Milkcaps, Brittlegills and other unidentified mushrooms stood out even greater numbers of False Deathcap (Amanita citrina – see here). There were dozens of them in the areas closest to the Forestry England car park that I searched, perhaps hundreds or even thousands across the site as a whole.

A frequent Amanita from August to November across much of the British Isles and continental Europe, the Latin name signifies the citreous yellow tinge of the caps. That quality is not easy to capture pictorially in subdued light given the paleness of the subject, but in the field readily distinguishes this mushroom from Parasols (see here) that they superficially resemble. Rather than go into descriptive detail, herewith is more of the fruiting cycle.

As the name suggests this is not an edible mushroom but neither is it seriously toxic like the Deathcap (Amanita phaloides) itself (pictured below), one of my favourite finds when fungi hunting. Simply put if you should be unwise enough to consume one of the latter (see here) you are a goner … end of story … kaput! But the two are readily distinguishable in the field, the dangerous one being slimy and without universal veil fragments on the cap.

Potentially even more alarming is the aptly named Destroying Angel (see here) that a white form of A citrina is also said to resemble. The toxins both the above mentioned beasts contain at first cause severe diarrhoea, nausea and stomach pains. Cruelly the symptoms are said to fade away for a while, tricking the victim into thinking they are recovering. Then they return with a vengeance by when it is almost certainly too late. Kidney and liver failure are already advancing. These ultimate Amanitae have no known antidote, so coma and eventual death are pretty inevitable.

Fortunately the Destroying Angel is mostly found in upland regions so is unlikely to occur in Oxfordshire. I myself have yet to find one anywhere, though there were some similar looking items in Oakley Wood on these two days. Not to worry. I would in any case never consider eating a white wild mushroom. Identifying them as previously noted is an imprecise art. All of the fungi fruiting cycle posts herein have received greatly increased referrals this autumn.