Guest blog by Minsmere volunteer, Mark Solomons
Van Gogh had his sunflowers and Wordsworth romanticised daffodils. But one of Britain's most stunning yellow flowers has consistently been overlooked: gorse.
Yet gorse, which is native to Britain, shines like the sun for most of the year, has an exotic scent and plays a vital role for our wildlife, and even human health.
Literary giants have often written about gorse not as a symbol not of flourishing life but of desolate landscapes devoid of beauty. William Shakespeare mentions gorse - or furze as it was commonly known at the time - in the most dismissive of references. In the opening scene of The Tempest, Gonzalo is stuck on a wrecked ship floating out at sea and wishes he could be anywhere else but the ocean, lamenting, ‘Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, anything.’ And Thomas Hardy's Return of the Native is set exclusively on Egdon Heath where the locals spend their lives cutting gorse on a depressingly barren landscape.
There's a reason for this negativity: it’s considered a bully, dominating areas at the expense of rival flora. In many parts of the world gorse is destroyed as an invader. In New Zealand where it was introduced, for instance, it’s considered a pesky invader that swamps their native flora.
One reason for this negativity is that gorse grows like wildfire and, talking of wildfire, it’s flammable and so is a hazard in tinderbox-dry regions. It is known as a ‘fire-climax plant’ — it catches fire easily but comes back stronger afterwards.
Yet it is a stunning fixture on our landscapes in Britain, whether on farmland borders or on the sand dunes of our coasts. Bigger versions, which can grow up to 10 ft high, looks great, smells great (arguably its greatest quality is its rich, yellow flowers have the scent of coconut), and it houses important and often rare wildlife. And gorse's prickly thorns are a useful defence against predators for those animals who use it for shelter or nesting.
Among these, as regular Minsmere visitors will know, is the Dartford warbler, an amber-listed songbird that perches on top of a gorse bush to sing. So too do stonechats, goldcrests and others. Adders, another increasingly rare species, can be spotted sunbathing near the bushes under which they can slip away to escape danger.
Besides regenerating after being burnt, gorse can live for up to 30 years, survive at up to minus 20 degrees centigrade, provide nitrogen to the soil, and a chemical extracted from the plant is used to identify antigens in human red blood cells. The roots adapt well to most soils — though particularly sandy ones — and for homeowners the thorns, like rose bushes and bramble, are seen as a deterrent to burglars if used as hedging.
It’s a great shame that it is so under-appreciated by so many, and not least by our literary greats. One exception is the 18th century poet Horace Smith, a contemporary of Shelley. A former pupil of Chigwell School, a few miles from where I grew up, he was one of the few to acknowledge its beauty in his poem To the Furze Bush in which he echoes my feelings: ‘Be mine the glad task to proclaim; the charms of untrumpeted furze!’
It certainly provides a good windbreak in the dunes. Unfortunately it is also quite invasive in some habitats so needs to be removed/controlled to keep areas open - eg flower-rich grasslands. It also often needs to be managed by coppicing to improve it's value for wildlife. If left uncut it can become very tall and leggy, not the lovely thick dense bushes that are so good as windbreaks.
Great to hear someone else appreciating Gorse. It's a great plant: the world's best windbreak if densely grown - appreciate it so much on a cold windy day. Don't know why reserve managers are always removing it. And apparently when Linnaeus first saw an English heath covered in flowering gorse he went down on his knees and thanked God.