By far the best view of Bay Road Park in Derry/Londonderry is from the Foyle Bridge - difficult to appreciate if you’re driving, but worth the effort of walking up the footpath alongside the northbound carriageway of the bridge. From this elevated vantage point you can overlook the network of tarmac and grass paths, the meadows, the willow copses and the riverside banks that make up this Local Nature Reserve. You also get an understanding of how the reserve is masked from the adjacent industrial buildings by hedgerows and a line of tall poplars; how it is separated from private gardens to the north by mature trees; and in contrast how it is not separated from the tidal stretches of the River Foyle, and therefore forms a good base for seeing waders and other estuary wildlife. You also realise how small and insignificant humans seem when walking or cycling round the site.
At ground level, of course, visitors only discover these aspects of the park gradually as they walk round. There is no clearly signposted main gateway: rather access is quite literally through a hole in the hedge, marked merely by a couple of large boulders. Passing through this modest entrance, I immediately headed towards the river, passing areas of damp meadow along the way. Here, the spiky leaves of the rush plants were being swamped by the straggling stems and yellow flower heads of greater bird’s foot trefoil. This is a larger and more upright version of the commonly found bird’s foot trefoil, (sometimes referred to as lesser bird’s foot trefoil), and grows primarily in wet grasslands. The somewhat unusual name is derived from the arrangement of the seed pods which spread out like the toes of a bird’s foot.
Although the bird’s foot dominated the rush meadows, I also found the fine, white star-like flowers of stitchwort, the creamy spikes of meadowsweet and the rust-coloured seed heads of curled dock. There were a few clumps of knapweed: virtually every one of the purple thistle-like flowers seemed to have either a carder bumble bee or green-veined white butterfly in attendance. Over these rich grasslands darted swallow after swallow, chasing flies that were invisible to me, but which form an exclusive diet for these summer migrants.
As I arrived alongside the Foyle, the vegetation changed. The meadows were replaced by a border of coarse grasses, beyond which, on the shore itself, were banks of sea aster. I came across at least one stand of Japanese knotweed. As the name suggests, this plant is not native to Ireland. It is invasive, and can rapidly spread throughout a site, inhibiting the native flora and destroying valuable habitats. In this case, many of the leaves were brown and withered, and I assumed it had been sprayed with a herbicide to eradicate it.
Several waders picked their way over the rocky shore that had been exposed by the receding tide. A lone redshank flew away noisily at my approach, but the group of oystercatchers farther along were braver and stayed put. A curlew stood hunched at the water’s edge waiting patiently for something - a tasty invertebrate to appear, or another curlew perhaps? No doubt, in wintertime there would be more wildfowl and water birds along this stretch of the river, but the views from here are good in any season. Upstream I picked out the buildings of Derry City, while downstream on the opposite side I could see Lisahally Docks. The skyline was dominated by the impressive span of the Foyle Bridge: now it was the traffic that looked so small and insignificant.
I veered away from the shore and back through the grass paths that had been mown across the meadows. A willow warbler delivered a short snippet of song from the willow trees in the centre of the reserve, just as the curlew behind me took flight amid much piping. The sky had clouded over and the butterflies that had been abundant earlier had vanished. Then suddenly a peacock butterfly appeared and settled nearby. I was dazzled by the vivid markings on its upper side. The four blue ‘eyes’ shone back at me as I neared with my camera lens. I can see why these markings would deter predators such as birds or lizards. Peacocks can also make a scraping noise by rubbing their fore and hindwings together to frighten predators – I suppose I should be honoured that this one did nothing to scare me. It simply waited until I took a picture and then calmly continued its flight. Peacocks live longer than many butterfly species – this one, having just recently emerged may live until next spring, hibernating over the winter in a sheltered outhouse or shed.
Just as I was standing virtually beneath the Foyle Bridge a cyclist sped by, reminding me that some of the paths through Bay Road Park form part of the National Cycle Network around Northern Ireland. It is evidence, if needed, that this Local Nature Reserve is used by people as much as wildlife. The birdboxes on some of the mature trees on the northern fringe are another indication of local involvement, as is, unfortunately, the graffiti on the seats and the singed grass nearby. Still that is what Local Nature Reserves are all about: interfaces between humans and wildlife, and while humans seem to be dominant at times, wildlife is generally quite resilient, more often than not hiding from view when people are about but living life to the full after we leave.