Craigavon Lakes

Craigavon City Park is the place to go if you’re into walking, cycling, jogging or dog walking. There are well-marked, surfaced trails throughout the 180 hectares of parkland that surround the two artificial balancing lakes, including a three kilometre perimeter cycle path. The scores of people using these get good views of the lakes and the trains that frequently cross the site on the main Belfast to Portadown line, but probably see very little wildlife other than the occasional mallard, swan or greylag goose. So it is not immediately obvious why City Park is a Local Nature Reserve. Deviate from the main route, however, and the reasons for the designation become clearer.

I stop in a quiet car park just off one of the many roundabouts at Craigavon, where there are several whitebeam trees. This tree is not a native species, but is one that our insects have adopted – on this warm day in late May, the clusters of cream flowers are alive with white-tailed bumble bees, our commonest bumble bee species. I glimpse water through the trees and head down towards it, but am distracted by a white butterfly flying erratically around the flowerheads of meadow buttercup and cow parsley. It eventually pauses long enough for me to recognise it as a wood white. It is now accepted that there are two species of wood white in Ireland – the true wood white and Real’s wood white. This one is probably the latter although to be absolutely certain I would have to catch it and examine its reproductive organs – not my scene really. I’ll just go with the literature that states that Real’s wood whites are found here (the Irish distribution of the true wood white is thought to be restricted to County Clare). This specimen is to be the first of several dozen I see during my visit.

I am further distracted by an enticing looking stone pathway through the adjacent broadleaved woodland. The path weaves its way under young ash, rowan and oak trees, with some horse chestnuts and hawthorns. It is lined with tufted vetch, herb Robert and the unfolding flowers of Lords and Ladies. I have this path to myself (with only the singing chaffinches, wrens and a song thrush for company), but eventually it leads me back to the main lakeside route where I join the constant stream of pram-pushers and cyclists.

There are two lakes at Craigavon, both of which are stocked for fishing. The larger south lake contains mainly coarse fish such as pike, roach and bream, while the north lake is managed as a trout fishery and is regularly stocked with thousands of rainbow trout. The lakes are bisected by the railway line. I arrive at the underpass beneath the railway, where, once again, I take an alternative route, climbing up on to the embankment and following a lesser beaten track alongside the railway track. At the start of this path is an information board indicating the feast of wild flowers that lies ahead. The raised ground here contains spoil from the construction of the railway. It is poor in nutrients, which restricts the growth of vigorous grasses, thus enabling the wild flowers to thrive.

I wander along this botanical paradise, past ox-eye daisies standing proud over a carpet of bird’s foot trefoil, red clover, mouse-eared hawkweed, knapweed (not yet in flower), countless sedges and, rather incongruously, blue lupins. Sadly the bee orchids for which the embankments are renowned are not yet flowering – late June is best for them. Reputedly this is largest colony of these plants in Ireland, with up to 1000 blooms having been recorded in recent years. This area is by far the most botanically interesting of the entire park, and its biodiversity is not restricted to plants. I spot small heath butterflies, more wood whites and numerous common blue damselflies. And from the willow scrub nearby a sedge warbler and reed bunting entertain me with their songs. In fact at one point, a fully fledged family of reed buntings makes an appearance.

Once again I reach the circular cycle route, whereupon I double back and follow it around the north lake, noting dabchicks, tufted ducks, swans, mallard and greylag geese, the last two with young in various stages of growth. The air is filled with mating blue damselflies, an assortment of mayflies that have hatched from the lake, and clouds of whitish, tufted seeds that are falling off the goat willows like snow. Towards Tannaghmore Gardens the tall poplars are talking to each other – their leaves rustle secrets in the wind.

I make my way back to the car park where I started, passing more families of cyclists and walkers. I can’t help feeling that while they are obviously enjoying their visit to City Park, they are missing the best bits – but for the creatures that live here, perhaps that is just as well.