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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
Environment
Jennifer Jones

Country diary: Welcome to the woods where bomber aircraft once hid

Silver birch with 'intruder' Scots pine in the background, in Stockton’s Wood
Silver birch with 'intruder' Scots pine in the background, in Stockton’s Wood. Photograph: Jennifer Jones

For most visitors, the Tudor house of Speke Hall, with all its rich history and magnificence, is the star of the show here. But right next door, Stockton’s Wood has a history all of its own.

Today, on a chilly winter day, there’s no escaping that right now this ancient woodland is an important “deadwood” site. It’s rich in veteran trees and fallen branches, and has a stunning diversity of mosses and fungi. Pausing by a fallen oak, I count slime mould pimpling the bark, several species of small but perfectly formed bracket fungi, and candlesnuff fungus, fungal mycelium lurking where once sap flowed. A wind-thrown silver birch is caught in a sycamore’s embrace.

But read the signs, and this wood will tell its stories of the past. A handful of coppiced trees whisper of previous management, possibly to provide wood for the residents of Speke Hall. Ancient oak, pencil-thin silver birch and occasional beech give way to small groups of Scots pine. These pines were planted to indulge the Victorian passion for game shooting (which Speke Hall hosted), providing cover for the birds. Thankfully, that practice is long gone, and the pines’ canopy now is much higher, embossing the sky with their evergreen heads.

The wood’s most remarkable story is connected to its location, today sandwiched between the relict grounds of the former Speke Airport and the modern Liverpool John Lennon Airport.

During the second world war, Speke Airport was requisitioned to become RAF Speke. A nearby shadow factory manufactured military aircraft, and Stockton’s Wood was used to hide parts and even whole planes. Possible aircraft hidden here included P-51 Mustang fighters and Halifax bombers. But this history the wood keeps a secret, as decades of vegetation growth have returned the land to its sylvan state. Hearing another jet rise noisily from the airport, it seems astonishing that similar craft were once squirrelled away here, unseen.

The wood is easy to miss as you drive by, and that invisibility served it well in wartime. As I leave, a suite of molehills reveals snowdrop bulbs, reminding me of the ivory mantle coming in the new year.

• Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian’s Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at guardianbookshop.com and get a 15% discount

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