Country diary: No Mow May is back on track – and the results are wonderful | Jennifer Jones

Hunt’s Cross, Liverpool: A survey of the roadside verge turns up 21 species including cuckoo flower and yarrow. But not everyone likes it

The impact was visceral. For days last spring I watched an army of confederates, with their uniforms of fiery gold bands and anthracite hoops, advancing up the road. They were cinnabar moth caterpillars, gathered on their host plant, common ragwort. And thanks to Liverpool city council’s observance of No Mow May, there were plenty of both in the roadside verge near my home.

But days before the month ended, the mowing team arrived, like pilgrims breaking their Lenten fast early. The ragworts and their parties of travellers were churned up and spat out. I was desolate.

No Mow May was launched by Plantlife in 2019 to help wildflowers grow and attract pollinators, and encourage biodiversity. With 97% of flower-rich meadows in the UK lost since the 1930s, and 41% of insect species facing extinction, it seems the least we can do. In response, Liverpool city council adopted a verge management strategy of reduced mowing regimes. Not everyone likes it (it’s been known for residents here to mow the verge themselves) and last May’s destruction is still unexplained: I emailed the relevant councillor asking what happened, but never had a response – very common, I find, when the query is about nature.

So what of this May? It was a good sign that the mowing team arrived in mid-April. After a few weeks, I went down to survey the verges for early signs of resuscitation. It was a bright day, full of promise – and I was delighted to find 21 species. Dandelions on the verge edges have flowered, fed insects, and now sport their beacon “clocks”, while daisies abound. Leaves of common ragwort, white clover, shepherd’s purse, common chickweed, spear thistle, yarrow and common bird’s foot trefoil have grown well, their flowers to follow soon. Two plants of cuckoo flower lurk in a corner.

While I was there, a feather‑storm flash, and 18 starlings swooped like teenagers raiding the fridge. Their bills probed the turf in concert, seeking the unmown verge’s insect smorgasbord, inviting oxygen into the soil.

I shall monitor any ragwort for caterpillars this month, and perhaps persuade the mowing team to move seamlessly into Let it Bloom June.

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