SWARD WARDENS: the incredible role of dung beetles                                June 2025

By Kerry Williams: Communications Officer – Conservation

There’s a subject we’re not great at talking about in the UK; poo. However, there’s a group of creatures that are far more celebratory of the topic, with their diet testament to their appreciation. Aptly named, dung beetles eat poo. And they are amazing.

You are likely to conjure the image of Heliocopris, giant dung beetle species which reside in Africa and Asia, manoeuvring huge droppings kindly deposited by some of the Earths spectacular megafauna. Although these beetles don’t match the size of the one that rolled a football into the 2010 World Cup opening ceremony, they are hefty for a beetle, reaching lengths of up to 7cm.

Our dung beetles are more diminutive, but no less vital. The UK is home to around 60 species, which are split into three groups: Aphodiines, or the ‘dwellers’, sized 3-13mm who live directly in dung, Onthophagus, at 4-11mm; ‘tunnellers’ who tunnel up to a metre below the dung, pulling down small amounts to lay their eggs in, and the largest ‘tunnellers’ at 8-26mm, the Geotrupes.

Mostly, they consume dung of herbivores and omnivores. The ultimate recyclers, dung beetles are ecosystem engineers, meaning they modify their environment to provide services to other species with whom they share the ecosystem. In the case of dung beetles, this is a poop removal service.

Not only do they improve grazing pasture by clearing grasslands of waste, but they also recycle vital nutrients, keeping soil healthy. Tunnelling aerates the soil and prevents compaction, which in turn mitigates against flooding. Whilst this waste processing keeps down the population of flies, the beetles also remove parasites living in the dung. The beetles are, in turn, prey to others, such as birds, bats and Hedgehogs. It’s all rather harmonious and, as nature does best, it’s a perfectly symbiotic relationship.

Yet, like most of our native wildlife, dung beetles are in trouble. Largely this is due to modifications in agricultural practices; changes in land-use and an increase of pesticides, whether this be directly onto fields or via livestock ingested worming medicines. These chemicals disrupt the brilliantly balanced natural process, especially when used large scale and preventatively. Landowners can support dung beetle populations by reducing pesticides; more dung beetles mean fewer parasites, so by protecting these species a free service is being retained.

We owe a lot to our dung beetles and must protect them. They’re a critical part of our ecosystem, yet many of us don’t know they exist here or appreciate their unglamorous and thankless work. To be frank, without them we would be up to our knees in poo. Metaphorically and literally.

We had a last-minute change of speaker at our April meeting when Helen Poole substituted for Ella Garrud who had fallen ill. Helen’s subject was Sussex in the reign of Elizabeth I. She presented the story through the magnificent buildings which survive from that era and the leading personalities with Sussex connections.

Elizabeth was queen for 45 years, with relative peace at home but continual wars with Spain and France. She had ended the religious persecutions of the earlier Tudors, but Catholics were still liable for fines for not attending Anglican services. The Fitzalans (Earls of Arundel) and the Howards (Dukes of Norfolk) were prominent ‘recusants’ and were involved in various conspiracies to put the catholic Mary Queen of Scots on the throne. The 4^th Duke  was executed in 1572 and his son, Philip Howard, born 1557, died in the Tower in 1595, awaiting execution . He was canonised as ‘Saint Peter’ , one of the English Martyrs, by the Pope in 1970. Arundel Castle, Helen pointed out, looked rather different at this time from the heavily restored Victorian version we have today

The Gages of Firle Place, near Lewes, were another prominent Catholic family who were involved in these conspiracies. Robert Gage was executed in 1586, but the house has survived as one of the finest examples of Elizabethan architecture. Helen covered many other notables and their grand houses – some, like Cowdray, where Lord Montacute entertained Elizabeth in 1591, only ruins now but others, like Michelham Priory and Parham, surviving and well maintained and open to visitors.

The other focus of her talk was the continuing war with France, and then Spain. The iron masters of the Sussex Weald were crucial in supplying the cannons, and the shipyards of Shoreham in supplying the ships for the fleet which challenged the Armada of 1588. It was pointed out that Ferring maintained one of the warning beacons installed along the Sussex Coast.

The other highlight of the meeting was the report of three Peregrine Falcons that have been seen on the tower of St Mary’s Church, Goring – and the hope that they may possibly nest there in the future. In addition there have been a number of local sightings of the colourful and exotic looking Hoopoes – birds with a distinctive “crown” of feathers.

Please also note that from now on, we are reducing our current 10 main meetings a year to 6, and these will occur in March, April, June (evening), July (evening), September and November.

Cuckoo: sound of spring                                                                             May 2025              

By Kerry Williams – Communications Officer: Conservation

It’s become a tradition of mine to go camping locally for a few nights in May. Being emersed in nature, spending evenings by firelight, and absorbing the abundant buzz of wildlife; it’s a good-for-the-soul time to be outdoors in Sussex.

Hawthorn, or the May tree, is flowering in fragrant blooms. Bats are flitting enmasse from maternity roosts at dusk to forage. Badgers are on the trundle and Foxes on the trot. And yes, there are loads of lovely baby bunnies. In Sussex, we are lucky to retain a population of visiting Nightingales, and on uninterrupted May nights the males are in full rattling, palpitating symphony. Tawny Owls ke-wik and Barn Owls shriek. Woodlands burst into carpets of indigo as Bluebell scent fills the understory.

Amidst this, an undulating ‘beep-boop’ can be heard, a natural metronome. It is one of our most recognisable bird calls, and the onomatopoeic sound of spring and summer; the Cuckoo.

Arriving from Africa in March, Cuckoos infamously lay their eggs in other birds’ nests, sneakily replacing an egg of an unsuspecting parent for them to incubate, feed and fledge. The not-so-little Cuckoo nestling shunts other eggs, and even youngsters, out of the nest, outcompeting any remaining for resources, becoming the last chonky chick standing. Regularly hoodwinked are Reed Warblers, Dunnocks and Meadow Pipits.

Mostly insectivorous, with a penchant for Hairy Caterpillars, adult Cuckoos spend their days feeding prior to their homeward migration. Having not had chicks to rear and fledge, they leave around June, with the new generation following later in summer.

Overall, it sounds like Cuckoos are having a pretty easy time of it. However, as is the story of so many of our native species, they are under threat. Cuckoos have declined by 65% since the 1980s and are now on the UK conservation Red List. The usual suspects are at play of habitat loss, climate change, and pesticide use resulting in food scarcity. Additionally, these issues have befallen many of their host species, leading to similar population declines, or, at the least, Cuckoo-bewildering behaviour changes such as earlier breeding.

Despite their size and familiarity, these elusive birds are not an easy spot. In a second act of mistaken identity, their barred chest can often resemble that of a Sparrowhawk. Although their calming calls have accompanied many a spring sundowner for me, I’m still yet to see one myself. Perhaps this year could be my year. Maybe.

Bluebell Hues                                                                    April 2025

By Kerry Williams: Communications Officer – Conservation

Like many people, Bluebells are a blast of nostalgia for me. I remember woodland days out as a kid; clambering up trees and scrawling thrilling finds like ‘Woodpigeon’ in biro in soggy exercise books. Bluebell season always required a visit. There’s not much like the all-encompassing violet thwack of Bluebells in ancient woodland. Sickly-sweet scent in your nostrils, the hues of the rich indigo carpet somehow also hanging in the air, and the understory buzzing with busy pollinators, who, just like you, are making the most of this abundant explosion.

We love a limited edition, a special experience that we must make the most of. Like one-off characters in your cereal box, like happy hour, like Nightingales. And Bluebell fever is no different. Every April and May, Sussex woodlands erupt with millions of these vivid beauties, announcing that spring truly, finally, fabulously, has sprung. This early flowering provides a welcome bounty for struggling wildlife and allows Bluebells to make the most of the sunlight before the woodland canopy becomes too dense.

Like many of our native wildflowers, the British Bluebell is up against it. At risk from habitat loss of precious ancient woodland, and threatened by a changing climate, the plant is also in competition with an interloper; the Spanish Bluebell. A non-native species, the Spanish Bluebell tends to outcompete its native counterpart for resources such as light and space. It can also hybridise with our native species, diluting the native Bluebell’s characteristics. So how can you tell these two species apart?

The native Bluebell, Hyacinthoides non-scripta, has narrow leaves and tubular-bell shaped flowers of deep-violet blue which curl back at the edges. The flowers are generally down one side of the stem, which has a distinctive droop to it. The Spanish species, Hyacinthoides hispanica, has broader leaves and a paler blue, conical shaped flower. The stem is upright and covered with flowers on all sides. A big difference between the two is the Spanish has no scent, whilst the native Bluebell smells sweet.

The idea of plants ‘escaping’ your garden invokes notions of under-the-cover-of-darkness creeping, but it’s easier than you think for non-native species to go astray. Uncovered cuttings and garden waste can easily blow into communal areas or can be carried by animals, to proliferate in new, wild areas. If choosing to plant Bluebells in your garden, it’s best to choose the UK species for this reason. In a small way you could be supporting our native species to recolonise our wild woodlands, and to keep them smelling sweet.

 Flying Colours  

By Kerry Williams: Communications Officer – Conservation                    March 2025

Let’s get the smug bit out of the way. This January I visited an incredible bird watching and conservation organisation in the Western Ghats, India, run by highly skilled and welcoming environmentalists, spotting 75 remarkable bird species, many endemic to this region. #sorrynotsorry.

A notable feature of these tropical species is their astonishing colour palette; vivid reds, brilliant pinks, and intense greens. There are a few reasons behind plumage colour. Bold colours can be flaunted as a display tactic in males to impress females and shame rivals in competition for a mate or territory. Colour can be used as a camouflage and survival technique, whether blending into surroundings, or by confusing predators with reflective iridescence.

A fellow Brit commented on how our birds don’t really compare when it comes to colour, but there’s some spectacular species to prove them wrong. Back in Sussex, spring is just starting to peep in; the season where we finally experience those explosions of colour after such a long wait. Aside from an excuse to show off about my grey-escape holiday, I thought a celebration of our most colourful birds was due.

Firstly, Kingfishers. They also reside in India, but they’re too bright and beautiful to not make the cut. A wetland and reedbed regular, these fabulous fishers take blue to another level. There’s no mistaking their tiny turquoise shimmer as they dart down a watercourse, or perch stock still on a branch, ripple-peering.

A regular on feeders, Blue Tits can be overlooked. Take a moment to appreciate that lemon and azure plumage, merging with navy and tinged with green. Once another common garden staple, Bullfinches are sadly now a rare treat to see. If you spot a male, peachy-coral chest set against muted hues of grey and black, it can’t be anything else.

Although wowing crowds with their aerial acrobatics in murmuration, you could be forgiven for thinking Starlings individually are somewhat ordinary. Think again. Up close, and in the right light, Starlings are a mass of beautiful iridescent purples, greens and golden yellows.

Corvids are considered a little plain, but what about an emerald Magpie tail or the sapphire flash of a Jay feather? A Jackdaw’s pale iris can seem blue against dark feathers, and sometimes, in low summer sun, jet-black Rook plumage can look purple.

Who needs a Malabar Trogon or a Flame-throated Bulbul? Not me! Well… not for 11 months of the year anyway.