If anything was going to be enough of a lure for me to brave the replacement bus service to Strumpshaw, it was the promise of a new-born calf. No sooner had it been mentioned than I was trying to manoeuvre my bike into the luggage compartment of the coach before hastily wrestling it back out again in Brundall. And let me tell you, it was worth it- this level of cuteness doesn’t come along too often at this time of year. I’m naming this little one Champignon, after the beautiful pale colour of his coat.
You may, like me at first, find the idea of having cows on a nature reserve a bit incongruous. I mean, they’re not exactly wild animals. They are, however, essential in helping to maintain habitats that are characterised by pioneer vegetation- things like hay meadows and other species-rich grasslands. I think one of the biggest ‘penny-drop’ moments I had in my career in conservation was the realisation that habitats won’t stay the same forever. Habitats change, usually as fast-growing species that are good at colonising newly opened habitats (like herbs) are replaced by longer-lived, more aggressive species that can out-compete them (like grasses, rushes, and-eventually- shrubs and trees). There’s nothing inherently wrong with that- but there is a problem if we lose fens and meadows which won’t be replaced elsewhere. Step in the grazer, whose function is essentially to keep resetting the habitat (by eating it). Cows eating grasses and sedges means that species which would usually take over as a result of ecological succession keep being beaten back, upping the count of rarer, more delicate species which would otherwise have been outcompeted.
But you probably didn’t come here for an ecology lesson. You probably came here for cute pictures of baby cows. And for those I am happy to oblige.
