Foulshaw Moss, Lake District, Spring
Foulshaw Moss is a pretty cool place. It’s a raised bog, named so because this type of bog rises in height over time as a result of peat formation.
A few days after my 36th birthday, back in 2019, my Dad came up to stay with us (he wasn’t living in Cumbria at the time). One of the places we explored with him was Foulshaw Moss, a raised bog just south of the imposing Whitbarrow Scar. We explored the area and took photos; at the time, I was mainly shooting on my Google Pixel 3XL with a shiny new Moment 18mm Wide v2 lens I’d got for my birthday.
A year and a few weeks on we visited Foulshaw Moss again, this time under totally different circumstances.
To accommodate social distancing measures due to the Coronavirus, the Cumbria Wildlife Trust (who manage the area) have blocked off certain dog-legs of the trail and turned it into a one-way route, encouraging people to keep their distance from each other.
On our visit we only saw one other man, who was busy bird spotting.
Foulshaw Moss is a pretty cool place. It’s a raised bog, named so because this type of bog rises in height over time as a result of peat formation. They’re very rare in Britain as historically they’re usually drained and used for planting trees. As raised bogs are acidic and wet habitats, their environment tends to encourage more unusual flora and fauna that can cope with the conditions.
In 2010 the Cumbria Wildlife Trust reintroduced a rare dragonfly to the site, the White-faced darter (Leucorrhinia dubia). In 2014 a pair of Ospreys nested at Foulshaw Moss, and have returned every year since. Hides have been erected at various points along the boardwalk trail for visitors to view the Ospreys through telescopes.
My lovely Lisabet, phone in hand ready to capture some minutiae she spots. In the distance is the south face of Whitbarrow Scar.
A pair of silver birch trees, standing out from the bog.
A young sapling reach for the sun.
A large part of Foulshaw Moss consists of this watery “graveyard” of silver birch, looking like brush strokes on a canvas.
A young rowan sapling, Sorbus aucuparia. In times gone by twigs from this tree were used to drive cattle to the pasture for the first time in spring to ensure their health and fertility.
There’s also plenty of bulrush, or Typha latifolia, in the bogs of Foulshaw Moss. By the time we saw them their heads had erupted, leaving these fluffy cotton-like tails everywhere.
Also in abundance—sprouting from the carcasses of various birch trees—is Fomes fomentarius, or the Hoof Fungus (you can see why). It’s apparently very useful as a tinder to start fires. Who knew?
The road back to Whitbarrow Scar, one of the biggest limestone escarpements in the Lyth Valley.
A solitary Scots Pine, Pinus sylvestris.
The open and expansive part of Foulshaw Moss. No blue skies on this day, in fact totally matte with clouds. On the right you can see a familiar resident of acidic bogs: cottongrass, or Eriophorum.
The only bird hide left open to accommodate social distancing measures.