Standing on the banks of the River Foyle at Derry City, it is hard to imagine that woodlands once spread from where the Craigavon Bridge crosses the river all the way south into County Tyrone. Over 400 years ago English planters fought the native Irish for timber from these extensive woods. Gradually the trees were felled. In the late nineteenth century the remaining woodland just south west of the bridge formed part of the Prehen House estate, which was sold off piecemeal for development during the twentieth century. Thanks to a local outcry, the last remnant of this great forest was spared - and is known today simply as Prehen Wood.
As I entered this ancient woodland I was very conscious of its history. Leaving the surrounding suburban dwellings behind me, I was immediately captivated by a sense of longevity: the still and timeless atmosphere was enthralling. This was no recently planted woodland - far from it. Some of the huge, gnarled trees had spent well over two centuries shading the ground, nurturing the wild flora and fungi, providing nest sites and song perches for birds, and concealing the woodland’s most secretive inhabitants such as red squirrels and long-eared owls. Yet there were signs of contemporary life as well. Numbered posts marked out an ecotrail, which is a type of environmental treasure hunt designed to encourage the young to take an active interest in biodiversity. I also found four sculpted wooden animals positioned along the main track: a red squirrel, a fox, a hedgehog and a butterfly, the last three accompanied by a short poem inscribed on the wood. They were carved by sculptor Michael Rodgers and inspired by children from local Rosemount Primary.
I visited Prehen in early August - perhaps not the best time for woodland exploration. Most of the wild flowers were over and the ground was in places quite heavily shaded. I passed carpets of leaves of early flowers such as wood sorrel, evidence that springtime must have been spectacular. However, I did find some ripening berries of Lords and Ladies among the delicate white flowers of enchanter’s nightshade, one of the few species that thrives in low light conditions.
It was the ferns that I found most fascinating. I found at least six species without much effort, including male and lady ferns, once thought to be the male and female forms of the same plant. I came across polpody ferns sprouting from a trunk, stands of soft shield and broad buckler ferns, and quite a collection of hard fern, its short, shiny fronds reflecting what light filtered down to the woodland floor. Underneath the various fern fronds I discovered clusters of spores, called sori. These vary in shape and colour depending on species: they are brown and ‘comma’ shaped on the lady fern, grey/black and circular on the male fern. When ripe each sorus releases thousands of spores.
Barring a few mysterious and difficult to identify chirps and calls, there was little sign of any resident birds. This is not unusual for this time of year. After the main breeding season, adult birds begin to moult, and as this restricts their flight, they become vulnerable to predators. Hence they keep well hidden. Also, small birds tend to move and feed in mixed flocks in late summer and autumn. It is therefore quite possible to walk through a wood for some time without seeing any birds, and then all of a sudden find yourself surrounded by a flourish of activity as you stumble across one of these flocks.
Adjacent to Prehen Wood is a disused quarry, stone from which was used to build Lisahally Docks on the River Foyle. The quarry is said to be haunted by the ghost of an American soldier who was accidentally killed there shortly before excavation ceased in 1944. I saw no ghosts, only the ghost-like light foliage of the birch trees that now fill the quarry site.
On the way down to the quarry’s edge I found several species of fungi - puffballs and a variety of Russula. These were, I suspect, the prelude to what will be a feast of autumn fungi in the coming months. Toadstools are merely the fruiting bodies of fungi, with the main growing part being a thread like system that spreads throughout the growing medium: soil or rotting wood for example. And there is an ample supply of rotting wood in Prehen. Clearly there is a policy to allow fallen trunks to lie and decay as part of the natural process of recycling nutrients. At one point I came across a holly tree that had blown down, but retained sufficient roots within the soil to survive. Its horizontal trunk was covered in vertical shoots of fresh green holly growing up from the fallen parent.
Having spent some time in Prehen Wood, I left it feeling that I had stepped back in time. I felt privileged to be able to wander through such an historic site, for ancient woodland is rare enough in Ireland, and is generally represented only by fragments such as Prehen. Let’s hope it survives another 400 years - I think it will, protected by the Woodland Trust, designated as Local Nature Reserve, and valued and enjoyed by those that live close by.