Wet Woodlands of the Weald

Sam.

Hello and welcome to this week's Wildlife Matters podcast.

Our journey starts in the southern Weald, where lush temperate rainforests await our exploring.

This week's Wildlife Matters main feature is the start of a new two part adventure where we explore the rare and incredibly biodiverse habitat deep in the heart of southern England.

And as always, we'll share an audio experience for you you to enjoy the sounds of nature wherever you are listening in this week's Wildlife Matters mindful moments.

But before that, let's take a look at the latest stories from the wildlife and natural worlds in this week's Wildlife Matters Nature News.

Hello and welcome to this week's Wildlife Matters Nature News.

Our lead story this week is a new ultrasound discovery that could change how we protect hedgehogs in future Hedgehogs were once a common sight in Britain's gardens and countryside, but their numbers in rural areas have dropped by up to 70%.

Road traffic is one of the major reasons for this decline, but new research into ultrasound could offer fresh ways to protect hedgehogs.

Researchers at the University of Oxford are testing a new idea, adding ultrasonic repellers to cars to help reduce hedgehog deaths on Britain's roads.

This idea follows new findings published in March in Biology Letters, which showed for the first time that hedgehogs can hear high frequency ultrasound.

Western European hedgehogs are in deep trouble, even though they are loved by many of us.

The International Union for the Conservation of Nature, or iucn, lists them as near threatened, following a decline of at least 30% over the last 10 years.

They're also marked as vulnerable on the Great Britain Red List of mammals.

Many factors have caused this decline, including fragmented habitats, disappearing hedgerows, intense farming and pesticides that kill the hedgehog's all important food.

But the biggest threat is vehicles.

Every year, an estimated 335,000 hedgehogs are killed on Britain's roads.

Researchers from Oxford and the University of Copenhagen worked together to study 20 hedgehogs from Danish wildlife rescue centers.

They used small electrodes to measure signals between the inner ear and the brain.

And played short sounds through a tiny speaker to test hearing.

The results showed that hedgehogs can hear ultrasound frequencies up to 85 kHz.

After the tests and a vet check, the hedgehogs were released back into the wild.

Until now, whether hedgehogs could perceive ultrasound was unknown.

Lead researcher Assistant Professor Sophie Lund Rasmussen from the Wildlife Conservation Research Unit, Department of Biology at Oxford University and the University of Copenhagen, told Wildlife Matters that she was absolutely thrilled to learn that hedgehogs can hear high frequency ultrasound.

It meant we could design sound propellers uniquely tuned for hedgehogs inaudible to humans and their pets, which makes widespread adoption much more feasible.

If these devices work, they could help keep hedgehogs away from roads when cars are nearby and therefore reduce the number of road deaths.

They might also protect hedgehogs from other dangers such as robotic lawnmowers and even garden strimmers.

Sophie continued to me, it's a complete.

No brainer for the car industry to support this research.

I've previously worked with industry partners to create hedgehog friendly robotic lawnmowers, so I know fruitful collaboration is possible.

My dream is to see these sound propellers built into every new car, with any profits funneled back into conservation research to help secure the hedgehog's future.

There are still questions.

Could other animals like bats and mice, badgers and foxes that also hear ultrasound be affected by these car mounted repellers?

Could hedgehogs living in gardens be driven away by lawnmowers or strimmers using ultrasound technology?

Most importantly, will hedgehogs freeze in fear when they hear the signal or will they run to safety?

Even so, the research team is hopeful.

Now that we've discovered what hedgehogs can hear, the real work starts, said Rasmussen.

There's so much to do to create safe, effective repellers tailored for hedgehogs.

But if we succeed seed, it might just rewrite the future for these charming animals, saving thousands of lives every year.

Our second story this week takes us to the oceans that surround our island nation.

In April, defra, the Department of Environment,.

Food and Rural affairs, published its latest.

Review of the state of our seas, which is known as the UK and Marine Strategy Report.

The other 13 are either failing, unclear or getting worse.

This challenging situation remains even though There are now 377 Marine Protected Areas, or MPAs in UK waters.

These areas are supposed to protect wildlife and habitats, but a closer look shows there is a much bigger problem.

Marine animals like whales, dolphins and porpoise have not reached good status.

One main reason is bycatch, which means that they are being accidentally caught and killed in fishing gear.

Seabird numbers are also falling and Fewer chicks survive every year because the fish that they depend on are getting harder for them to find.

The types of fish in our seas are changing and for the worse.

The biggest cod are disappearing and smaller.

Species are becoming much more common.

The entire ocean food web is under stress.

Plankton, which are tiny but essential for ocean life, are becoming less productive as the seas warm.

This affects all the animals that rely upon them.

The seabed and fragile habitats like seagrass meadows are still being damaged by pollution and disturbance from ships and boats.

Our seas are becoming noisier, polluted with heavy metals and litter is spreading across the ocean floor.

Although there are a few good signs.

Grey seal numbers are stable or rising.

There is less litter on our beaches.

Commercial fisheries have improved somewhat with more fish stocks caught at sustainable levels, but this is still less than half.

However, these positive signs are overshadowed by larger, more troubling trends.

Why marine protected areas alone are not enough Protected areas matter, but their boundaries cannot solve many of the problems our oceans now face.

Drawing lines on a map cannot stop the water from warming, filter out nutrient rich runoff from from fields or prevent.

Sewage from storm water.

These borders also cannot reduce underwater noise or protect whales, dolphins and porpoise from fishing gear, whether they are inside or outside of the protected areas.

Climate change is a clear example.

Sea temperatures around the UK have gone up by about 0.3 centigrade each decade over the past 40 years and extreme.

Underwater heat waves are happening much more often.

The report says these changes are already affecting marine ecosystems, from plankton at the base of the food chain to where fish live.

No protected area can shield wildlife from a warming ocean.

Pollution from land is another issue the protected area borders cannot prevent.

The report highlights food production and sewage treatment as the main sources of excess nutrients.

With more nitrogen entering coastal waters, heavy metals from old mines, especially in and around Wales, still pollute the sea.

These contaminants have not reached safe levels because lead, mercury, copper and zinc are still too high.

This doesn't mean protected areas are not important when well managed.

MPAs are a key tool and new plans to ban bottom trawling in some protected sites are a good step forward.

But if we truly want to help our oceans recover, we need to tackle the main causes.

This means reducing farm and city runoff and stopping sewage from entering our rivers and sea.

The climate crisis is changing our marine ecosystem systems from the ground up, so cutting greenhouse gas emissions is essential.

Reducing underwater noise from the growing maritime industry also matters.

Finally, better fisheries management will lower bycatch and protect whole ecosystems.

The Office for environmental protection.

The environmental watchdog has come to a similar conclusion.

Now it is asking the government to create a delivery plan that is evidence based, properly funded and has clear deadlines.

The group responsible for holding the government accountable on environmental issues is questioning whether the law has been broken.

It is difficult to defend the current approach.

Britain's seas were meant to reach good.

It's six years later, this new report shows we are still far from that goal.

We cannot let a set of protected areas on a map replace the real hard and necessary work of restoring our ocean's health.

Our final story this week is one of nature's small spectacles that occur annually all over the UK and often in the most urban areas, where rivers run through many towns and cities, but one.

That until now has held a mysterious.

Secret because scientists have finally solved the.

Mystery of the mayflies ancient dance.

For generations, people have wondered about the mayflies unusual dance.

But now new research shows that this ritual could be crucial for the insect's survival.

On spring evenings by the River Thames, thousands of mayflies gather for what might be the world's oldest dance.

As the sun sets, the males fly upwards, flip in the air and float.

Back down with their wings and tails spread gently spiraling through the evening light.

Mayflies are some of the oldest flying insects on earth, first appearing around 300 million years ago, long before dinosaurs existed.

Even the epic Gilgamesh, one of the earliest stories, mentions the mayflies short life over millions of years, mayflies have changed very little.

Their delicate bodies look much like those of their ancient ancestors found in fossils.

They've kept these unusual traits, probably doing this ancient dance for hundreds of millions of years, but its meaning was a mystery, says Samuel Fabian, a research fellow at the University of Oxford who studies how insects fly.

Now Fabian and his colleagues at Imperial College London believe they have found the answer.

Their new study, published in the Journal of Experimental Biology, recorded that mayflies movements in 3D.

They filmed large swarms rising and falling over Richmond to understand better how the insects fly.

And they found that this unusual vertical.

Dance is a code.

The males move up and down through the swarm to stand out from the females, who glide above, while the males fly straight up and down.

The females glide sideways above the group.

This difference helps to tell them apart.

In later tests, the scientists noticed that male mayflies stopped following any target that dropped below the horizon.

As it gets darker, it becomes almost impossible to tell males from females even.

When they're up close.

By staying just below their potential mates, the males ensure they do not miss their brief chance to mate, which is important since they only live a few hours and at most a couple of days.

This success in finding a mate is crucial to the species survival.

There are more than 3,000 mayfly species living in streams, rivers, ponds and lakes around the world.

But in Britain, many of the 51 native species are declining, affected by what scientists call insect apocalypse.

Another study suggests that more than one in ten species could disappear by the end of this century.

Researcher Samuel Fabian encourages people to enjoy this ancient site while it is still found in our rivers.

Almost anyone can see this marvel even in the busiest of cities.

If they look at the right time of year, the mayflies are still here, performing their ancient dance that probably started.

Before Britain separated from mainland Europe.

And that has been this week's Wildlife Matters Nature News.

Exciting discoveries about hedgehog hearing could also help other road crossing wildlife such as foxes, badgers and deer and maybe even bats.

And how many of you have seen.

The beautiful mayfly dances against the city lights at night?

And when you think you've seen it all, we dive under the waves to explore the challenges of facing our seas.

Nature always has something new and exciting for us to explore.

Explore on Wildlife Matters Nature News.

Now let's take some time to listen.

To the relaxing sounds of nature.

Imagine that you are deep in a.

Woodland gorge with mosses and ferns covering.

The ground and a sparkling stream flowing nearby.

That's where we are as you join.

Us for this week's Wildlife Matter.

Mindful moments where nature's sounds become your songs.

It's.

I hope you enjoy being in the.

Deep gorge of the southern world and.

Listening to the babbling, gurgling stream as.

We sat beside it.

But don't wander too far.

Our next adventure starts right here.

Join us for the first part of our adventure into the rare and biodiverse habitat that lies in the heart of.

South East England, on the Kent and.

Sussex border, around 30 miles from the hustle and bustle of central London.

This is part one of Wildlife Matters journey to discover the secrets of of the temperate rainforests of the Southern Weald.

Hello and welcome to this week's Wildlife Matters a main feature.

And today we're heading out into the colder winter morning to explore Flatropa's wood, a beautiful 38 hectare ancient woodland on the edge of the High Weald in East Sussex.

This ancient woodland is known for its streams, ponds and spectacular bluebell displays in early spring.

But today, in the cold depths of winter, we're setting out on a remarkable journey of discovery, as we search for some of the most remarkable winter plants southern Britain has to offer.

The first wild plant I noticed was on my way here, a clematis, spotted scrambling through the hedgerows along the roadside.

Despite being one of the most abundant plants in the winter landscape, most people drive straight past it without a second glance.

When I tell people what it is, they almost always react with disbelief.

Most of us think of clematis as the showy flowering varieties climbing up garden fences and pergolas, not as a tangled mass of feathery seed heads in a winter hedgerow.

Old Man's beard, also known as Traveller's Joy, is the wild cousin of the garden species.

The woody climbing plant vigorously scrambles and climbs through trees and other vegetation.

In winter, its feathery seed heads flow gracefully from the skeletal structures of the barren woodland edges.

Traveler's Joy is a vigorous grower, capable of extending up to 30 meters both vertically and horizontally.

It disperses its seeds via feathery filaments carried in the wind, which is a highly effective strategy that helps explain its abundance.

Although it lacks tendrils, its branches twist and grip surrounding plants with impressive tenacity.

And its rapid spread means it is considered invasive in many parts of the country.

As the only native clematis species in the uk, Traveller's Joy has a curious role.

People love its beauty, but it can also become a real problem if left alone.

It can climb very high and put a lot of stress onto the trees it grows on.

Its flowers emit a faint but sweet fragrance, especially when they bloom in large clusters.

Unusually for a member of the buttercup family, it has four green white sepals that curl beneath the flowers and are hairy.

The sepals eventually separate into these fine, feathery filaments, each attached to a large central seed, often around a dozen of them.

These feathery filaments resemble an old man's beard, which is, of course, how the plant got its common name.

The main stems are oval and may have two prominent ribs.

As they mature, the stems become woody.

Its uses have not always been purely decorative, though in Switzerland, the tough, flexible stems were historically used to make rope, bind crops and even weave baskets.

But a word of caution, Traveler's Joy is mildly toxic.

It contains ranunculin, which, when ingested, is enzymatically converted into the poisonous protoanemonin a toxin shared by all members of the buttercup family family.

Even physical damage to the plant, such as grazing by animals chewing the stems can release this compound, which causes nausea, stomach cramps and diarrhea.

It is a plant best admired from a distance.

Another plant you can find here is Butcher's broom, another of those plants that tells its story simply by being here.

Recognized as an ancient woodland indicator, it spreads so slowly and so reluctantly into new hab habitats that its presence is a reliable sign that the surrounding woodland has been here for a very long time.

A particularly good place to see it is in the new forest, where it grows in abundance beneath the deciduous trees.

Even thriving in the deepest shade in the woods at Lynnwood, northeast of Ringwood, you can easily spot it from the roadside.

This is a sure sign of an ancient woodland.

Butcher's broom is unlike any other British plant, really.

It is a short evergreen shrub that grows to around 60cm or 2ft tall.

All its leaves end in a pointed spike, which is why one of its Old English names is knee holly.

In early spring, tiny pale green flowers with six petals appear right in the centre of what appears to be its leaves, a strange and surprising detail that reveals that these, of course, are not true leaves at all, but flattened stems known as claydoads.

Butcher's broom is related to asparagus and lilies, which might seem surprising until you see the young spring shoots.

These shoots are edible and they do taste a lot like asparagus, but there is so much more to this plant than just its use in cooking.

In the grey depths of winter, its glossy, prickly foliage and vivid red berries bring a welcome splash of colour to even the shade seediest corners of the woodland floor.

Butcher's broom prefers well drained soils.

Its sturdy water retentive structure allows it to withstand drought, which is highly likely why it thrives in the dry plains of southern Europe.

True leaves are tiny and grow at the base of these claydoads.

After two or three years, some stems die and turn brown, and this desiccated foliage can remain entangled in the plant for a long time, with the spines still being formidable.

Butcher's broom is dioecious, meaning the male and female flowers grow on separate plants.

Both produce delicate green and purple flowers in the centre of the claydoads, but only the females go on to bear fruit.

That fruit begins as tiny green beads before swelling and ripening into the glossy red berry, giving the plant a distinctly festive appearance, but made it a popular choice for indoor winter decorations long before plastic holly became the norm for centuries.

Sprigs of butcher's broom were gathered and bought indoors at Christmas, their glossy green claydoads and vivid red berries making them a natural festive decoration.

Their sturdy foliage was once used to scrub butcher's blocks, long before the advent of plastic bristles and disinfectants.

The plant contains antibacterial oils, which may have improved butchery hygiene practices, potentially leading to fewer cases of food poisoning.

A balm made from the roots has been used to treat various ailments, including gangrene, circulatory issues and tissue swelling.

The ancient Greeks used butcher's broom mixed with wine as a laxative and a diuretic to help treat kidney stones.

It contains anthocyanins, which may have potential uses in cancer treatments.

Very few animals eat this plant, despite its medicinal properties due to its spiny defences.

But butcher's broom reproduces in two ways as underground rhizomes and berry dispersal by birds.

The rhizomes are believed to be responsible for most of its spread, but deliberate planting, driven by its popularity as a shade garden filler, contributes to its range expansion.

Alongside the wild variety, several cultivars have emerged and escaped into the wild, a common story for many plants with desirable features favoured by gardeners, like its cousin asparagus.

New shoots of butcher's broom can be eaten and the seeds inside the berries can be crushed to make a coffee equivalent.

All in all, butcher's broom is a quietly remarkable plant.

It can feed you, heal you and clean up after you.

And that's not bad set of qualities.

For something that most people walk straight past in the winter woodland.

Very few plants are as instantly recognizable or as surrounded by myth as mistletoe.

With its distinctive white berries and paired oval leaves, it clings to the upper branches of its host trees throughout winter.

It is a familiar sight along woodland edges and in orchards across the south and west of Britain.

Its scientific name, Viscum album, translates rather unromantically as white goo, referring to the sticky, viscous liquid inside each berry.

Over the centuries, it has been known by many local names, such as Churchman's Greeting, Kiss and Go Maslin, Mizzle and Mizzlin Bush.

Each name offers a glimpse into its folklore.

Its use as a medicinal plant is not entirely without foundation, though.

It contains an antispasmodic compound that can lower blood pressure, lending some credibility to the historical claims that it could help alleviate epilepsy.

The plant is often associated with the ancient druids, who revered it at the winter solstice, as documented by historians such as Pliny and Caesar.

Its striking, pearly white berries thrive even in the starkness of winter, much like.

Holly and ivy, which are respected plants.

That flourish when few wildflowers bloom.

Mistletoe is dioecious, with male and female flowers on separate plants.

The sticky white berries appear between November and December and are only found on the female plants.

The berries are prized as a winter food source for the misselthrush, a bird so closely linked to the plant that it's named after it.

But blackbirds and winter visitors like red wings and fieldfares also enjoy the berries.

The sticky pulp surrounding each seed clings to the bird's beaks long after the berry has been eaten.

When the bird wipes its beak clean on the branch, the seed is deposited exactly where mistletoe wants to be, high in the canopy, pressed against fresh bark, ready to germinate.

Mistletoe typically grows near the tops of trees as birds feel safer up there.

However, it only establishes itself on first or second year tree growth, and it may take a full year to root and connect with the host tree to extract nutrients and fluids.

And during that first year, it relies entirely on its own resources.

A hemiparasitic plant, mistletoe obtains some nutrients from deciduous trees, notably preferring apple trees, which account for about 40% of mistletoe occurrence.

Other trees it commonly grows on are the lime tree, hawthorn, black poplar, willow, falsicacea, and occasionally on oak.

Whilst it can grow on nearly any tree, it is rare to see it on any tree species other than those mentioned.

Mistletoe is commercially cultivated primarily on apple trees for the Christmas market, where it is traditionally used for kissing under.

Mistletoe grows when its seeds stick to a tree's bark, thanks to the sticky, viscous liquid they contain.

The mistletoe typically produces four leaves on one branch in the first year.

Then in each subsequent year, it branches once, doubling the number of branches annually, until it forms a globular mass that expands.

Expands over time.

In the past 15 years, mistletoe has been spreading more rapidly than usual, and a new accomplice has been identified.

That's the blackcap, A warbler that increasingly overwinters here in the uk rather than migrating south, has joined the missile thrush as a key disperser.

Crucially, the black cap tends to place seeds in more secure positions on the bark, giving them a better chance of taking hold than those deposited by the thrushes.

Mistletoe can conduct photosynthesis, but primarily relies on its host for water and minerals through the direct swellings known as galls where it contacts with the host tree.

Although it may appear embedded in the bark, it grows on the surface, causing the tree to produce bark over and around it, resulting in a structure known as a haustorium.

After attaching itself to the bark, the mistletoe seedling sends tentacle like structures into the tree, enabling it to absorb nutrients, especially water.

These tentacles penetrate only a short distance into the host tree.

In response to this intrusion, some trees, such as maples, produce toxins in specific cells to prevent further invasion and other species may respond similarly.

Despite its capacity for photosynthesis, mistletoe is ultimately dependent on its host for water and minerals it cannot produce itself.

This relationship benefits the mistletoe considerably more than the host tree.

Several subspecies are found worldwide, but only the parent species, Viscum album, grows here in the uk.

These species contains a toxin protein and leptin viscumin which has a high molecular weight.

Other sources also mention viscotoxin as one of the plant's toxic components.

The toxin is concentrated in the white berries but is present throughout the entire plant.

In addition to the viscotoxins, mistletoe contains other various chemical compounds.

Recently, a new acylic ammonoterpene glycoside was discovered in mistletoe and it has no common name and its chemical name is lengthy.

Mistletoe has the highest density in the UK in Somerset and Devon, with a broad distribution across the Home Counties and minor currencies along along the mid Wales border.

It's virtually absent from the north of England, from the south of Yorkshire except for a few rare hectides and primarily thrives in gardens and orchards where conditions are favourable.

Another plant here is a common polypody.

Look closely at the mossy branches overhead or the old stone walls of a.

Woodland edge and you may spot a.

Common polypody, one of Britain's most resilient and adaptable Fernando ferns.

Thriving in the cool damp understory where little else will grow.

This medium sized fern is easy to recognise because of its unique ladder like fronds made up of simple finger like leaflets that spread out from a central stem.

The fronds have a leathery texture and a sturdy look, adding a special touch to their surroundings.

One of the most notable features of common polypody is its distinctive pimply underside which house clusters of small round spore bearing organs.

These spores display vibrant colors shifting between bright yellow to a rich orange, creating a stunning contrast against the green foliage.

The visual charm is particularly pronounced when viewed from below.

Common polyprody thrives in humid gorges, along woodland banks and in rocky crevices.

But it also does well clinging to mossy branches or growing on old stone walls.

Even though it prefers moisture, it is surprisingly drought tolerant.

The common polybody can exhibit epiphytic behaviour in particularly humid woodlands.

Here it derives its moisture and essential nutrients from the air and rain, growing harmoniously alongside other plants without competing directly for soil resources.

Understated but quietly captivating, the common polybody.

Is one of those plants that rewards.

The kind of slow, attentive walk that flat tropers would invites.

The hartstongue fern is part of the asplenium family, also known as the spleenwort family, and this group covers around 700 species, most of which are tropical.

In many ways, it is a surprising plant to find thriving in the damp British woodland.

In fact, this fern is almost unique to the uk, distinguished by its long strap like leaves that develop wavy edges as the plant matures.

The name hartstongue comes from the resemblance of the leaves to the tongue of a young red deer.

Hartstongue ferns thrive in shallow soil and it's often found growing among the roots of trees and bushes or in cracks within walls.

It is a native Northern Hemisphere plant and is common in the uk, particularly in the southwest of England.

Unlike flowering plants, ferns do not produce seeds or flowers, but reproduce via spores.

The hartstongue fern produces distinctive chocolate covered spores on the underside of its leaves, which are shed between August and March.

The shape of its sporangia reminded medieval people of the spleen, leading them to believe that the plant could help treat ailments of the spleen based on the doctrine of signatures.

The dark brown lines on the leaves also inspired the Latin name scolipendirim, which means centipede.

According to a modern herbal, the heart sung fern is beneficial for various liver diseases, spleen hardiness and stoppages.

The herbalist Culpepper noted that distilled water is perfect against the heart's passion, can relieve hiccups, support the palate and stop bleeding of the gums when used as a gargle.

Long before Culpepper, Galen recommended an infusion of this fern for dysentery and diarrhea, and in some rural areas of the uk, it was used as an ointment for burns and scalds.

Turn a frond over and you will find the spore cases arranged in neat, slightly curved rows on the underside.

Chocolate brown and distinctive, the hartstongue fern prefers to grow on walls, rocks, in woods and along the hedge banks, favouring the Western regions of Britain.

While it can be found throughout the uk, it is generally absent from the Scottish Highlands.

Here, in Flatropers Wood, it is particularly well suited for the Hartstongue firm.

The woodland sits above a varied geology, with limestone playing a key role in the underlying structure.

And it is exactly the kind of damp, calcium rich soil favoured by the hartstongue fern.

As the only native fern without divided leaves, the hartstongue fern can be spotted in the damp, shady areas.

This is the end of part one of our adventure to discover the wet woodlands of the High Weald in winter.

Next time, join us on the Wildlife Matters podcast as we explore the rainforests of the Weald, right here in the heart of the south of England, which is another adventure that you won't want to miss.

And this is the end of this week's Wildlife Matters main feature.

This adventure in the Southern Weald has brought me so many new learnings and insights and gave me the chance to explore rare and unique habitats that survive in the heart of Britain's busy, overcrowded South East.

If you enjoy our wildlife adventures and storytelling, don't forget to like and subscribe so you never miss a new episode.

And you can join us again for part two of this latest A Wild the Story adventure is best when shared,.

So why not tell your friends, family.

And even your colleagues about the Wildlife Matters podcast?

With Beltane behind us, spring's green tapestry is spreading and summer is just around the corner.

Watch for the first swallow and listen for the returning cuckoo.

Now is the time to get out outside and let nature's renewal fill your senses.

Do you have a wildlife project or nature story to share?

We would love to hear from you.

Reach out to us using our contact details which are in the show notes.

Your story could inspire the next wave of wild explorers.

Well, it's been another busy episode and what a journey we've had so far and there are many more wild adventures ahead.

As always, thank you for tuning in.

And exploring with us.

Wildlife Matters will return in two weeks time with part two of our adventure as we explore the temperate rainforests of the Southern Weald.

Until then, stay curious wild ones.

This is Wildlife Matters signing off.