Wildland In Focus: A Journey of Discovery

As I arrived at Knepp, I felt so many emotions – excitement, intrigue, anxiety, fatigue – my dad and I had travelled for 5 hours to get there. I had never been away from home for longer than a week before, this was something completely new for me. Having lived my life in a seaside town which was close to our national parks, then deciding to study Ecology and Conservation at university, I thought that I had a good idea of this country’s wildlife. However, seeing this opportunity advertised at my university, I knew that it was something I wanted to do. The presentation given by Operation Wallacea planted a seed of doubt, had I truly experienced England’s biodiversity?

My first evening was difficult. The new people and atmosphere felt tough to navigate, my senses becoming overwhelmed. I sat at a table of people with no sense of security, beginning to regret my decision. I was confused on where to place myself in this new environment for the next two weeks, but I knew that I needed to push through.

That night, I woke up abruptly to the feeling of something pushing against my sleeping bag. Startled, I turned on my phone torch and sat there in silence, stuck in the corner as if turned to stone. The light flooded my eyes when I heard a little “squeak” and watched as a tiny bump underneath the floor of my tent slowly scurried away. I felt myself smile and a wave of relief run over my body. As I settled into my sleeping bag once more, I reminded myself that there was a reason I wanted to do this, and I would not let myself down.

The first week was intense, but in the best way possible!

It began with a rewilding tour with one of Knepp’s guides, which was insightful for what we should anticipate seeing during our time at the estate. Hearing all the possible species that we may come across was so exciting: the purple emperor, the white stork, the turtle dove, Knepp’s big five. The list was endless. Our afternoon consisted of learning how to use DISTANCE Sampling for Knepp’s large mammals and setting up a camera trap in a place of our choice. The spot which I found was decided upon and after reviewing our videos, the area turned out to be a den for a family of Tamworth pigs! Watching the mother stand looking at her piglets frantically run around in the den showed that parenthood can be challenging for any species.

A female Purple Emperor (Apatura iris) who sadly had a damaged wing.

The following days included a herpetofauna survey, where I held my first reptile! It was a female slow worm, which is a legless lizard despite what it’s name suggests. We learnt about the species’ capability to shed its tail as a predation response which I found so fascinating. Luckily, she felt comfortable enough to not demonstrate, though the warmth of my hand soon began to wake her up and I had the opportunity to let her go. This survey was paired with learning more about a tree’s role in carbon sequestration, using a formula to measure the amount of carbon stored within a quadrat of woodland. In the evening, we had a bat walk that involved the use of monitors that allowed the user to adjust its frequencies to capture bat calls within the night sky. Hearing the clicking sound through the device, followed by seeing an obscured black object flying above, it felt like we had found a secret society!

Me holding my first reptile! A female slow worm (Anguis fragilis).

Then, we had a day dedicated to birds, which required a very early morning. We had the pleasure of observing the little passerines being rung and their biometrics taken. Witnessing the birds being placed upside down within a cup, to be weighed, was a sight to behold. A point and line transect was then conducted – I was astounded as I watched the group leader being so perceptive to the bird calls and their meaning. However, I began to feel incapable of identifying their calls, or spotting them, whilst the rest of my group contributed with ease. With the complexity of duration, pitch and pattern, I began to question if that would ever be possible for myself.

The next couple of days involved terrestrial invertebrates, as well as habitat classifications. When surveying the terrestrial inverts, we used a pooter to suck all of those caught within our net into a small glass tube, to be classified under the microscope. This required getting up close and personal, sticking my whole head into a net full of bugs! After a couple of tries, I felt more confident and less stressed at being so close to them. Using a dichotomous key, my group helped to classify the individuals down to their taxonomic order. Our day of habitats also required the classification of plants to allocate the assessed transects with UKHab codes and condition scores. When looking at plants, an eye lens is your best friend!

Collecting a cricket (taxonomic order Orthoptera) which was caught during sweep-netting.

At the end of the first week, a lot of the volunteers left the camp and new staff introduced themselves. This change made me feel unsettled, like I had been uprooted from the ground once more. I wanted to spend some time alone to process, so I decided to go to Hammer Pond – an area that our groups came across frequently during our surveys. Sitting alone on the hill which faced the pond, I could see the sun slowly setting over the tree canopy in the distance; the air cooling down. It was then that I saw everything. I watched the duck species swimming and a family of greylag geese approach, exiting the water and settling down ten metres away to the left of me. I noticed the ripples in the orange-glazed water, as the great-crested grebes dove into the pond whilst a great white egret stood sheltered under a tree canopy on the water’s edge. Above, I saw a barn swallow flying with such agility, it almost felt like a performance. I followed it with my gaze until I noticed another bird, a great-spotted woodpecker, foraging quietly on the hill to the right of me. Slowly, I turned my head over my shoulder, when I was surprised to see three European rabbits playing amongst themselves. One rolling around in some exposed dirt, the other two chasing each other. My body felt like it had woken up, a rush of inspiration and awe flooding my senses. I began to feel so much excitement – my heart pounding, tears forming in my eyes. Surrounded by so much wildlife, the moment felt magical – and I felt completely at peace. My ears (rather than being filled with the noise of conversation, footsteps, or laughter) finally attuned to the symphony of birds, being able to hear the different calls around me. I realised that it wasn’t my inability that meant I couldn’t contribute during our day of birds, my environment just didn’t allow me to.

A glimpse of Hammer Pond in the evening.

Looking down at my phone, I saw that it was almost time for me to be back at camp. I said goodbye to the geese, rabbits, and songbirds; leaving the pond in a rush. Briskly, I walked between a set of woodland plantations – my head clouded with joy. Suddenly, I came across a grass snake, which I hadn’t seen sat in the pathway of ragwort. This gave me a fright, making me run quickly back to camp. As I reflected on that encounter, I understood that I was quite lucky to have seen a snake in-person, despite momentarily being startled!

My second week came around and it was just as busy as the last. Our itinerary was overflowing with more habitat classifications and bird ringing, to new activities like habitat suitability indices for newts, wildlife photography and freshwater invertebrate sampling. I enjoyed carrying out small mammal trapping – where I had the chance to handle a wood mouse. It was incredibly quick, taking the opportunity to run up my arm in an effort to escape its biometric measurements!

A wood mouse (Apodemus sylvaticus) which we caught within our Longworth Mammal Traps.

Another highlight of the week was when a stockman kindly spoke to our cohort about his responsibilities at the estate. I learnt that creating a harmonious balance between the health of the estate, and its revenues, was more complex than I once believed. Whilst nature was left to succeed and adopt natural processes once more, the background work within this project was evident and admirable. It reflected the care that is needed, and that should be strived for, to help our biodiversity to develop and thrive. The biodiversity of our country is one of the most damaged in the world; we need to act whilst we still have the chance.

Eventually, it was time to leave. Packing up my equipment and clothes, followed by sweeping out my tent, I went to the communal stretch tent to say farewell to those that I had the pleasure of meeting. The camp manager brought my dad down to collect me, which was a lovely surprise. Just like my arrival, I left feeling a mixture of emotions once more. It all felt so bittersweet, I was able to find comfort in a space that was away from home for the very first time.

When I came to Knepp, my aim was to discover more of what England’s nature has to offer, where my interests lie, and where my efforts should go moving forward into my career as an ecologist. Leaving Knepp, not only did I gain a plethora of knowledge on rewilding, wildlife conservation and the spectacular capability that our nature holds to restore itself; I left having discovered more about myself too. I had my extra challenges, but I was encouraged by the amazing Opwall staff and learnt that this did not mean that I was incapable! With the support of those around me, I walked out of those gates carrying a heart full of pride for my abilities, gratitude for the people that I met, and appreciation for this extraordinary experience.

Photos by Courteney Kellow-Webb, title photo by Danielle Stern