Transient Towpath Trudging - Pt.134 (Canal Zander)

You're out for your usual afternoon stroll through the British countryside perhaps near the hedgerows of Bedfordshire or along the winding lanes of Kent, or in my case in the middle of Ansty Park industrial estate in Coventry (after good friend and work colleague Bethany badgered me to come and have a look), and suddenly, you see it. 

A tree, once leafy and proud, now stands like something out of a Victorian ghost story, wrapped entirely in silvery-white webbing. It’s not Halloween. It’s not a prank. It’s the work of nature’s most persistent decorators: moth caterpillars.

Now despite appearances, these spooky tree cocoons aren’t the result of poltergeists or budget horror films. 

The real culprits are ermine moth caterpillars, which, despite their dainty name, behave more like weekend ravers, well at a rave of all places !!

Once hatched, they build enormous communal silk webs think Glastonbury tents but with more legs and less music. In the UK, apparently these critters are particularly fond of hawthorn, cherry, apple, and spindle trees, which are already doing their best to survive British weather without being mummified by moth spawn.  

From a distance, the trees look like they’ve been hit by a blizzard or perhaps got into a fight with a giant ball of cotton wool. Up close, it’s a writhing silk metropolis, with thousands of tiny caterpillars going about their business like commuters on the M25. 

The effect is equal parts fascinating and mildly horrifying, like watching a David Attenborough documentary filmed by Tim Burton.

These webs can stretch across entire trees, bushes, fences, and nearby bikes yes, someone once came back to find their bicycle entombed like Tutankhamun’s sarcophagus. 

It’s the closest Britain gets to a supernatural plague, and frankly, it’s more stylish than most.

The trees usually survive just fine. That’s right, while they might look like they’ve seen the ghost of Christmas past, these trees bounce back as soon as the caterpillars pupate and flutter off to become surprisingly elegant moths. 

The leaves regrow, the webs disappear, and the tree is left with nothing but some awkward memories and possibly PTSD. Experts assure us that unless a tree is already stressed or unhealthy (and who isn’t these days?), it’ll be fine. In fact, it’s the humans who seem more psychologically scarred by the sight.

So the next time you see what looks like a spectral tree wrapped in the gauze of the underworld, take a moment. Don’t call an exorcist or the council. Just appreciate it for what it is: a seasonal, slightly gross, natural spectacle like pollen, or people sunbathing in April. 

It’s a reminder that even in the calm and orderly English countryside or an industrial estate in our case, nature sometimes likes to get a bit weird. Whether it’s hedgefoxes, angry badgers, or trees that appear to have been ghosted by silk-spinning larvae, Britain remains gloriously unpredictable.

And if you’re worried about your own apple tree turning into a mummy next spring? Don’t panic. Just keep an eye out for tiny squatters... and maybe invest in a very large lint roller. Anyway talking about being scarred by the sight, imagine a small roach having to contended with a canal Zander coming towards them with an empty stomach and hunger pangs to rival Beard Meets Food. 

Yeap something to share with the Grandkids if you survive the escape that is, Anyway post work WFH it was still 23 degrees and I had to be back by 7.30pm at the lastest, so only a couple of hours fishing, but hopefully enough time to catch a Zander or two down at hotspot No.2 which is producing some bites as the minute. 

So 2 hours to catch a Zander, should be simple shouldn't it ?

Well you would think so, but there was definitely some signs of spawning when I go there and throughout the session. The crud on the surface was causing some issues as well. I need not have worried though as the more reliable bit of cover produced a bite quite quick where the left hand float jumped in to life and I tightened up to clearly a small fish.

As I was unhooking it though the right hand float also jumped in to life and this was a bait with a perfect cast with the dead roach literally vertically parallel to the cover. 

I got onto the rod as quickly as I could but the by this time the float was already a good foot inside the thick cover where upon tightening up, the fish had already escaped leaving me to lift up the canopy cover and not a Zander. Bugger !!!

So one schoolie and one lost fish, and sadly that's where the excitement ended, I leapfrogged the cover and back again, and even fished another area that was more in the shade, but that was my lot. A very warm day indeed so I glad I got out to fish, I'm sure fishing in to dusk would produce a few more fish as even when a boat came through, those fish that I knew were laying up, didn't really venture out on their usual sorties.