Ancient woodland at Garbutt Wood has many secrets to share

THE view from the top of Sutton Bank on a good day is spectacular. There is the jutting ridge of Roulston Scar to the left, its limestone cliffs gleaming in the sunlight; and the gentle, tree-clothed swell of Hood Hill.

Beyond stretches the Vale of York. On a clear day you can see, blued by distance, the golf balls at Menwith Hill; the towers of York Minster; even, far off on the skyline, the stacks of Drax and Ferrybridge power stations.

Today we’re not here for this view, however, magnificent as it is. Our gaze is turned downwards, towards Lake Gormire and Garbutt Wood, the ancient woodland that grows thickly around the lake’s shores, in the shadow of the sheer bulk of Whitestone Cliff.

We follow the Cleveland Way from the car park at the Sutton Bank National Park Centre for the short walk to the edge of Sutton Bank itself. We have barely set off before Jono Leadley, the Yorkshire Wildlife Trust’s director of development, is exclaiming excitedly about the birdsong coming from the trees which line the path.

“There are goldcrest here,” he says, peering into the branches. “Listen! That really high-pitched sound, like silver.”

The branches are alive with tiny birds flitting from branch to branch, in fact: not just goldcrest, but chaffinch too, and various kinds of tit.

“This time of year, they start forming feeding flocks, which will help them get through the winter,” Jono says.

From the viewpoint on the very edge of Sutton Bank, we turn north towards Whitestone Cliff. After a short walk, with stunning views to the left over the Vale of York and Lake Gormire far below, we come to a wooden bench, with views out across the Vale.

Just opposite it, a narrow pathway cuts sharply down the steep escarpment, through a magical covering of windblown trees. There is ash here, and hawthorn; silver birch; and stunted oak trees, their branches twisting and turning in beautiful patterns against the clear sky.

The path is steep and winding. Occasionally, there are rough stone steps which seem carved into the slope itself beneath the trees: elsewhere, you find yourself scrambling over tree roots. But it is beautiful, with the sunlight of a perfect September morning dappling and splashing down through the leaves; and rich in wild plants and flowers.

We come across a perfect, bread roll-shaped birch polypore fungus growing from the trunk of a tree; wild strawberries, raspberries and bilberries growing on the banks of the path; St John’s Wort in the scrub beneath the trees.

A rowan or mountain ash sprouts from the slope below us. Normally at this time of year its branches would be laden with red berries. Perhaps the birds have eaten them already, Jono says. “You get starlings flocking up to take them in a single day.”

We hear bullfinches calling from the oak trees and the song of robins. “They’re singing to defend their winter feeding territories,” says Jono.

It is only when we reach the bottom of the slope that we enter the Garbutt Wood nature reserve proper. It is truly ancient woodland – the earliest known reference to it dates back to Tudor times – and wonderfully varied. Most of it is birch and oak, with a thick covering of holly, too, which provides shelter for birds in winter when other trees have lost their leaves. But there are also pockets of aspen, ash, sweet chestnut and sycamore.

One of the beauties of the wood, however, is that there are a range of different habitats, says Caroline Comins, the Yorkshire Wildlife Trust’s regional reserves manager.

There are clearings covered in fern and bracken, that give the air a rich, ferny smell. In early spring, they are carpeted with bluebells, Caroline says: and they are great for insects and butterflies of all kinds.

“There’s lots of shelter here: we’re out of the strong winds.”

Elsewhere, where springs make it too wet for bracken and scrub, there are areas of marsh almost like mini-fenland. There are marsh tits here, making a distinctive ‘p-chew, p-chew!’ call.

Tthere are also wetland plants such as water mint, with its mauve flowers and minty smell; marsh marigolds; and fleabane. This has bright yellow flowers almost like tiny sunflower heads. Neither Caroline nor Jono know for sure where its name comes from. “Maybe people rubbed it all over thesmelves to get rid of fleas!” says Jono.

Actually, a bit of research later suggests that in the Middle Ages, people used to dry the flowers then strew them around the house to chase fleas out of the straw that kept stone and dirt floors from being cold in winter.

Another feature of the wood, especially in the area of tumbled, broken land beneath the sheer limestone face of Whitestone Cliff, is the number of large boulders that lie strewn amid the undergrowth.

Invariably, they are covered in a rich coating of mosses of different kinds: each rock a tiny landscape in its own right. These are boulders that have tumbled from the cliff face itself.

Don’t worry too much, however: according to a new guide to the reserve, the last major rock fall was in 1775. It was recorded in the diary of the Methodist John Wesley, who was preaching in the area.

One thing you can’t help noticing about the woods is just how healthy and unspoiled they seem. The undergrowth is home to a wonderful variety of wild plants and herbs: plants with delightful names such as enchanter’s nightshade, wood sorrel – a tiny, clover-like plant whose leaves have a lovely, lemony flavour – and dog’s mercury.

“That’s an ancient woodland indicator,” says Caroline. “It means these woods have been here for a long time.”

Then there are the trees, themselves. They come in all stages of development, from young saplings to mighty oaks that could be tens if not hundreds of years old. The fact that there are so many trees, all of different ages, shows that the woodland is constantly replacing itself, Caroline says.

A footpath describes a convenient loop around the wood, doubling back to return close beneath Whitestone Cliff, where it threads through a jumble of mossy boulders.

As we return up the edge of the scarp, we see a speckled wood butterfly sunning itself on a fern; and, as we climb higher, we hear a treecreeper deep in the woods.

Up on top of Sutton Bank again, as we return to the car park, there is another treat in store. We hear the liquid call of a nuthatch: then see its chunky little body lifting from one tree and flitting across to a copse on the other side of the path. The perfect end to a beautiful morning.

Fact file

GARBUTT WOOD nature reserve is one of many managed by the Yorkshire Wildlife Trust. The best way to reach the reserve is from the National Park Visitor Centre at the top of Sutton Bank, where there is plenty of parking. A trail guide can be bought from the visitor centre.

From the car park, follow the Cleveland Way north, taking the sloping path down the escarpment at the nature trail sign. Be warned, however: the path is steep and can be quite a scramble.

It is worth visiting the reserve at different times of year, says Caroline Comins, the Yorkshire Wildlife Trust’s regional reserves manager.

In April and May, the woodland is rich with wild flowers, including bluebells. This is also a good time to see birds, before the trees have developed their full covering of leaves.

Early autum – ie starting about now – is the time for berries and fungi. “You also get lovely light coming through the leaves,” says Caroline. “It really is different at different times of the year.”