Happy New Year!

At times like this, I sometimes wonder what the Earth and Sun would say to each other if they could talk. They would watch us celebrating this annual moment at such an arbitrary time…

Sun: I could understand a party at either solstice…

Earth: Yes, or one at either equinox. Would make good sense…

Sun. Quite. But to pick a day about a week after one solstice…

Earth: Very strange.

Sun. Yes. They are a very strange lot.

In this picture of a beech tree in Wiltshire, we can see both moss and lichens thriving in the moist air close to the ground. Water evaporates constantly from the ground and moisture-loving organisms, including mosses, lichens and algae, will be found close to the ground regardless of aspect.

Direction can be found by looking for clues above this area or sometimes by getting to know the lichens in this low band itself. It is much more complex, and fun, detective work than simply thinking ‘green is north’.

On a different note, my book has just come out in the US!

“I recently bought a copy of your book and loved it – quite remarkable! My brother has stolen it from me yesterday – he’s a Qantas Pilot so I’m guessing it’s somewhere over the Pacific at the moment.”

A couple of days ago Sir Ranulph Fiennes – no stranger to fresh air projects! – described the The Natural Navigator as:

“The perfect book for getting you started on your own adventure.”

It is perhaps time for a minor celebration and what better way than with a picture of some of pale green lichens. During a long walk on La Palma in the Canaries, I came across this lava field where the black igneous rocks were covered in a thin carpet of lichen. The lichen had a strong preference for a northwest aspect. Later the same day, the sky filled with thick low clouds and these same lichens helped me find me my way back to civilisation. The first picture (top left) was taken looking southeast, the second picture was taken seconds later, looking northwest from exactly the same spot.

I took this picture looking south over Halnaker Hill, the windmill can just be seen poking out at the top. On my outdoor courses I sometimes stop early on and ask people to give me as many clues to direction as possible. Quite often this leads to much frenzied studying of lichens and branches and lots of good ideas. More often than not I find myself having to point out a big one. ‘What’s the biggest clue you can see?’ Some might say the shape of the land, but very few spot the coast itself. If visibility is poor I resist the urge to borrow from a Mr Basil Fawlty and say, ‘It’s there between the land and sky.’

The two pictures above show two sides of the same bridleway signpost on the South Downs Way. The arrows both point east and there is a clue to this in the photos. It is not in the lichen growth, which unusually is quite similar on both sides, but in the colour of the arrows themselves. The blue of the south-facing (but east-pointing!) arrow has been bleached more by the sun. The three main weathering clues are sun, wind and rain. The first will usually be greatest on the southern side, but wind and rain will usually leave their marks more prominently on the southwestern side.

Tristan

Many thanks for a fantastic day yesterday.

I learnt so much and was stimulated also by the opportunity to apply what I did know to a new “problem solving” challenge! I checked out the moon last night and located Polaris and was quite comfortable that it was NOT directly above my head as I always imagined it might be! (I do need to re-set the weathervane and I think I’ll use Polaris to do this!)

The principles you taught will add another layer to my enjoyment and connection with the great outdoors. So rather than just walking through it and looking at the views I’ll be able to read more off it. Natural Navigation is a key to unlocking a fascinating text in the Earth’s rich library.

Thanks again for a very inspiring day – just off to check the lichen and moss on the trees in the garden!

Richard W (Cambridge)

Natural navigation is a mixture of art and science and this can be felt very strongly when the sun disappears behind the clouds. Science allows us to understand the direction that the sun will be and there is an art to reading the cloud edges to reveal the direction of the sun, even when we cannot see it.

The low trees on the exposed hilltop had been groomed by the prevailing southwesterly winds. There were green, grey and gold lichens layering the various sides of the brick.

More days than not I spot an example of the sun influencing nature in a way that is new to me in some way. In general terms it is fairly old news that a place that receives no direct sunlight will appear different in some way. It is in the detail that the novelty is to be found. The more obvious signs might be that it has different plants growing and an abundance of mosses and lichens.

The more fascinating signs are subtler, created by factors that are minute but combine to create an effect. The first picture shows how broadbrush nature can be. Despite looking in one direction towards a single hillside, as many as six different bands of colour are visible.

The second picture shows a spot on our lawn where the kids paddling pool had been left for a few days. The grass is lighter as a whole, but then there are those small dark circles.

The ants that created these holes, almost overnight, obviously have a preference for shade and moisture. It is an effect I have seen on a slightly larger scale on the north-facing side of a hill before, caused by moles.

It would take a lot of ants to change the appearance of a hillside, but then for all the endangered species in the world, there are at least plenty of these little workers. A ‘Save the Ants’ appeal would be hard work, even with celebrities draped all over it.

Chichester Cross is a slightly mysterious stone construction at the heart of my home town. It has been around for five hundred years or more and has endured its share of sun, wind and rain in that time. The two larger pictures show the effect of just 6 years of exposure.

The elements do not come at it from uniform or random directions though and so it feels the effects in different ways on each side. This leads to different erosion patterns and weathering marks. It also means that lichens find different sides more or less appealing. The smaller pictures show the edges of the eight flying buttresses. No two are the same.

In England and large parts of northern Europe mosses and lichens will often grow on the south side of trees and buildings, but they will nearly always display differences to nearby brethren growing on the north side. The crucial thing to remember is that we are dealing with trends and patterns when observing nature, avoiding rules wherever possible. The navigator who tries to live by the rule that moss only grows on the north side is likely to find themselves lost and bedding down on the stuff before too long.

The two pictures above show roofs on either side of East Street, Chichester. There is lush green moss growing on the north-facing roof, but if you look closely at the second photo you will see a brownish ochre growth running along the top of the south-facing, very sunny, roof tiles. This colour difference is a pattern that is quite consistent and satisfying to spot. The way I like to remember it is the ‘Hawaiian Tropic Moss Trick’, if you find what looks like normal moss that has has gone south with a bagful of lotion and lain on a bed in the sun for too long then the chances are it is south-facing. Beware though, this works well on buildings, but on trees the colour patterns change again. It will be their turn next week…