Keeping track of plant introductions and invasive plant spread, and knowing how to identify these species is important to conserve our ecosystems – this is where the Welsh National Herbarium comes in…

Have you heard of the term “invasive” species?

As international travel has become easier and more accessible over time, we’ve increasingly moved plants, animals, fungi and algae around the world. Sometimes this happens intentionally – for example, importing pretty plants to be grown in gardens – and sometimes accidentally, such as marine species picked up in the ballast water of cargo ships. You can learn more about invasive species and marine invaders here.

Non-native vs invasive species…

The number of species introduced from their native range (where they originally occur) to new locations has been increasing for years. Species that have been transported to an area they couldn’t have colonised by themselves are called “non-native species”.

Although most of them are harmless, 10-15% of non-native species end up thriving in their introduced habitats – they spread and cause negative impacts to our native biodiversity and ecosystems. These are called “invasive species”, and they can have serious knock-on effects for our health, the climate and our economy.

Why are plants important?

We often forget that we interact with plants every day. The array of habitats found in Britain are made up of a diversity of uniquely adapted species, and plants form the basis of many of these habitats. Plants act as food sources for a huge diversity of organisms (including us!); they also influence our physical environment, for example reducing flood risk by stabilizing riverbanks and storing water. Some plant species are special for being so rare and only growing in the British Isles. However, our flora is changing; we now have more non-native than native plant species in Britain!

Invasive plants – how do they get here and what’s the problem?

There are 36 plant species that are of special concern in Britain, but there are also more species that are considered invasive and have special legislation around how they can be handled to control their spread. Mainly these species have ended up in Britain through horticulture, but less commonly, invasive plants turn up by hitch-hiking in imported materials or in the ballast of ships.

Horticulture

Many species have been imported as ornamental plants because they are pretty and were thought to make for good garden interest – this was particularly common in the Victorian period, before we knew much about the risks of introducing species to new lands!

Japanese knotweed/Clymog Japan is a prime example. This species was introduced to Britain in the 1800’s, where it was propagated and became a popular exotic garden plant. However, records of garden escapes were recorded from as early as 1907 in Glamorganshire and to this day, Japanese knotweed is particularly problematic in South Wales. Evidence indicates that every plant of Japanese knotweed (Reynoutria japonica var. japonica) growing in Britain originated from a single female plant introduced all those years ago! You can find this plant growing along roadsides, riverbanks, railway lines, woodlands and grasslands, where it spreads by deep underground rhizomes (underground stems that produce new shoots) and seriously reduces biodiversity. Around £1.7 million is spent in the UK every year on managing Japanese knotweed and mitigating against its damage!

Japanese knotweed/Clymog Japan growing in South Wales.

Specimen of Japanese knotweed in the Welsh National Herbarium (Amgueddfa Cymru), collected from St Fagans.

Himalayan balsam/Jac y Neidiwr (Impatiens glandulifera) was also introduced as an ornamental plant from the Himalayas in 1839. It is found today growing along riverbanks, in woodlands and along roads. It has explosive seed pods which allow it to spread across large distances. Although the flowers are beautiful, it outcompetes native species, reducing biodiversity. It also has shallow root systems which can worsen riverbank erosion, which in turn can reduce water quality and increase the risk of flooding. A study by Cardiff student, Amy Wyatt, found that since 1865, Himalayan balsam has evolved to better adapt to its introduced range.

A specimen of Himalayan balsam/Jac y Neidiwr.

Contamination of imported materials

Pirri-pirri burr (Acaena novae-zelandiae) found its way to Britain from south-eastern Australia and New Zealand as a hitch-hiker on imported wool. It has hooked seeds which can easily attach themselves to fur and clothing. Like many invasive plants, this species can outcompete our native flora and form dense stands which reduce biodiversity.

Example of Pirri-pirri burr flower, showing hooks/spines that allow seeds to spread by attaching to fur and clothing. 

A specimen of Pirri-pirri burr.

Ragweed (Ambrosia artemisiifolia) is native to North America and is thought to have arrived in Britain in bird seed, horticultural soil and soil used to ballast ships. It has highly allergenic pollen and can cause hay fever.

Heath Star Moss (Campylopus introflexus) is an invasive moss that is thought to have originated in the Southern hemisphere and to have been introduced with produce transported by ships. It is also known as Tank Moss, for its suspected spread via World War II tanks. An expert coloniser of acidic bare ground, such as that found on coal tips, it is now common in Wales where it threatens these wildlife-rich habitats.

Heath star Moss growing in Tylorstown.

Recently, a new fungus (Bryoscyphus granulosus) has been found infecting Heath Star Moss and closely related mosses. The fungus causes the moss to die back and form dead patches that expand outwards, like a fairy ring. Specimens of this fungus have been donated to the museum recently by former curator George Greiff. These include the ‘holotype’, the original specimen used to describe the fungus as new to science. This fungus parasite has significant ecological importance, perhaps with the potential to control an invasive moss that can cause substantial harm.

How we’re working on invasive plants at Amgueddfa Cymru

The Welsh National Herbarium held at National Museum Cardiff contains over three quarters of a million plant specimens, representing around 300 years of collecting and covering virtually all species found in Wales. The herbarium is a treasure trove of information that acts as a reference point for identifying plants, where species are found, and how non-native and invasive plants are spreading across the British Isles. You can learn more about what an herbarium is and how we preserve plant specimens here. The Botany team work hard to look after and develop these collections of specimens for the benefit of us all, and to support ongoing research into the changing diversity of our ecosystems. We form a small part of the Natural Sciences team at Amgueddfa Cymru, made up of curators who look after the natural history collections. Some of us specialize in species taxonomy (naming and classifying species) and ecology; some of us research non-native and invasive species so we can understand their spread and impacts.

What can you do to help?

There are many ways to help stop the spread of invasive plants. You can find out more here. You can help prevent future invaders by keeping an eye on the plants in your garden and alerting others to species that may jump the garden wall. There are also ways to stop the spread of invasive species in and around water – learn more here.

In recent years, Gwen John has been reclaimed as a queer Welsh icon. While her sexuality was never hidden (her brother Augustus references her attraction to both men and women in the foreword to her Memorial Exhibition catalogue in 1946 and it has since been discussed in all three of her biographies), this renewed interest encourages us to think about how John’s queerness might influence how she saw the world and made art. How do gender and sexuality affect out reading of an artist’s choice of subject or how they depict people and places?

John had sexual relationships and romantic friendships with both men and women throughout her life. According to Augustus’s autobiography, she had ‘an unhappy crossing in love’ with ‘a certain girl student’ at the Slade School of Art in London which ‘led to a drama’ in which John jealously demanded the girl end an affair with a married man. John’s first biographer, Susan Chitty, suggested that this love interest may have been Grace Westray, a fellow Slade student who shared a flat for a time with Gwen and Augustus. She may be the young woman depicted sitting in the foreground of John’s Portrait Group, one of John’s only surviving student works. Outside the window, we see two figures, possibly Gwen and fellow artist Ambrose McEvoy, another love interest. This group scene represents the tangled web of love, friendship, and family that defined Gwen’s student days. It depicts the shared student flat at 21 Fitzroy Street which served as a hub of creativity that fostered her artistic development, as well as a safe space in which to explore her emerging sexuality.

Gwen John, Group Portrait, 1897. UCL Art Collection – currently on display in Gwen John: Strange Beauties

John’s subsequent relationships followed a similar pattern: passionate attachment and deep affection spilling over into overwhelming devotion on John’s part. When she met the sculptor Auguste Rodin after moving to Paris in 1904 she became a favourite model and soon began a romantic relationship with him. This is documented in the hundreds of letters she sent him, now in the archives of the Musée Rodin. While many of them are love letters and some speak frankly about sex and desire, including with other women, others describe her day-to-day modelling for other artists. Among these were many queer women, such as Ottilie Roederstein, Ida Gerhardi, Anna Wood Brown, and Hilda Flodin all of whom were long term clients and friends. While it’s not clear if John ever attended any of the cafés or salons associated with the Parisian sapphic artistic circles to which these women belonged, she would undoubtedly have been aware of them.

Like many of the women John worked with and for, having her own lodgings was essential for both her professional and personal life. Her garret apartment, as depicted in Corner of the Artist’s Room, was both her home and her studio. As art historian Alicia Foster has pointed out, having a ‘room of one’s own’ was essential for her art practice, but as an unmarried woman it was also a space to which she could invite friends and lovers. At a time when even walking city streets unchaperoned could illicit unwanted attention, the ability to rent a small, private space meant freedom, sexual and otherwise. Is it any surprise then that John’s rooms appear so frequently as the subject of her art in its own right? For a single, queer woman and artist, this space represented both sanctuary and livelihood.

Gwen John, Corner of the Artist’s Room in Paris, 1907-9, NMW A 3397

In late 1926, John met the famous Catholic philosopher Jacques Maritain, who lived nearby in Meudon with his wife, Raissa, and his sister-in-law, Véra Oumançoff. John quickly became deeply attached to Oumançoff, who became her confidante and spiritual advisor. The two women would often speak after mass at their local church and go for walks in the woods together. John’s affection for Oumançoff developed into romantic feelings, which appear to have been unrequited. Many passionate draft letters addressed to Oumançoff can be found in the Gwen John Papers in the National Library of Wales. In them, John mixes religious thought with romantic devotion, asking God to ‘show her how to love Véra’ and asking Oumanoff to let her ‘kiss her hands’. Oumançoff became overwhelmed by the attention, and asked John to limit her letters and visits to once per week. John duly obeyed, but began bringing not just letters to these rare visits but also drawings, which she called ‘dessins de lundi’ (Monday drawings). Each week for nearly two years, John presented Oumançoff with a drawing or watercolour, some new and others apparently versions of older motifs. The subjects, styles, and mediums are widely varied. Some were presented attached to backing sheets of coloured paper with the title and date given inscribed on the back. The titles of many of John’s works on paper (such as Mademoiselle Pouvereau and Souvenir du Dimanche des rameaux) are known thanks to these inscriptions.

Gwen John, Mademoiselle Pouvereau, NMW A 3607

Oumançoff kept these drawings long after the relationship ended, in spite of moving the United States as an exile during the Second World War. Over one hundred of the dessins de lundi were discovered again in the 1960s in the Maritain archive. Several works now in the studio collection at Amgueddfa Cymru are versions of compositions John gave as dessins de lundi. Reading these works through the lens of John’s sexuality, we can see them not just as formal studies of composition or tone, but as tokens of love and affection intended to convey a shared experience of faith and prayer. Furthermore, because John’s ability to communicate with Oumançoff was restricted to just once a week, these drawings became an additional means through which she could communicate to her beloved. They stood in for conversations and letters.

One of the images that John gave to Oumançoff as a dessin de lundi was a drawing of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux (1873-1897). This modern French saint, a close contemporary of John, died young and was canonised very quickly. She was one of the first saints to ever be photographed, a fact that her convent used to help create an iconography for her and advance the cause of her canonisation. The convent in Lisieux published books, prayer cards, and memorabilia with Thérèse’s image on it. As a Catholic convert and an artist, John was fascinated by these photographs which for the first time showed the real face of a saint, rather than an anonymous stylised icon made hundreds of years after their death. She became particularly attached to an image of Thérèse and her older sister, Céline, as children, drawing and painting this composition hundreds of times. These images have tended to be underrepresented in studies about Gwen John’s art, and are often dismissed as obsessive or absent-minded doodles. But this diminishes the importance that the ‘true face’ of a saint just three years older than her would have had for John. Furthermore, by the 1920s when John began drawing her, Thérèse had become a bit of a queer icon herself. Jean Cocteau, Henri Ghéon, Lucie Delarue-Mardrus, Vita Sackville-West, and Radclyffe Hall were all devotees of the saint. Her theology of the ‘Little Way’, which suggested that small, imperfect lives could be made holy through everyday sacrifices appealed to converts, avant-gardists, and other outsiders. John, who would write in her late notebooks about her desire to become a saint, was likewise drawn to Thérèse’s ‘Little Way’. Perhaps as an outsider herself, whose life and sexuality didn’t conform to heteronormative standards, she took particular comfort in Thérèse’s image and doctrine.

Gwen John, Sainte Thérèse of Lisieux and her sister, NMW A 15561

Gwen John, Sainte Thérèse of Lisieux and her sister, NMW A 15534

Reading John’s art through the lens of her sexual fluidity opens up possibilities for new interpretations of her art. While this article has touched on a few examples, there is still more work to be done. In acknowledging John’s queerness and considering how it might influence her way of seeing the world around her, we add depth and nuance to our understanding. To read more about John as a queer artist, see Norena Shopland’s book Forbidden Lives (2017), Tabitha Deadman’s Art UK article ‘Bi visibility: Gwen John and multiple gender attraction’, and Mair Jones’s Art UK article ‘Queer Welsh women in art’.

Each May, as part of No Mow May, the National Wool Museum allows areas of its landscape to grow freely, creating space for wildflowers, insects and the wider ecosystem to thrive. By stepping back from regular mowing, even for a short time, the grounds are transformed, revealing how much life depends on longer grass and seasonal change.

The Museum is deeply connected to its surrounding landscape, from the sheep that supply the wool to the habitats on its doorstep. Within the site lie three and a half acres of meadow, bordered by the Nant Bargod and Nant Bran, tributaries of the Afon Teifi. Alongside this sits the museum’s dye garden—a more cultivated space, but one that is equally rich in colour, history and wildlife.

Together, these spaces show how a simple change in land management can support a thriving and interconnected environment.

A Living Meadow Landscape

Away from the clatter of the mill machinery, the meadow offers a quieter, more reflective space. Managed through seasonal hay cutting rather than frequent mowing, it provides an important habitat for a wide variety of species. This approach sits at the heart of No Mow May, allowing grasses and wildflowers time to grow, flower and set seed.

This type of rough, damp grassland—known in Wales as rhos pasture—is increasingly rare. Its careful management is essential, as too much mowing or invasive species such as Japanese knotweed can quickly disrupt the balance that allows wildlife to flourish.

In spring and summer, the meadow comes to life. Butterflies such as Painted Lady and Red Admiral drift among the flowers, while the rare Brown Hairstreak lays its eggs on blackthorn in the hedgerows. Bees collect nectar from clover and hawthorn, ladybirds feed on aphids, and damselflies hover along the riverbanks. Surveys have even recorded more than 30 species of beetle on site.

The plant life is just as important. Native grasses such as meadow foxtail and fescues support wildflowers including knapweed, cuckoo flower and tansy, while wetter areas are home to rushes, meadowsweet and valerian. Together, these plants provide food and shelter for insects, birds and other animals.

One particularly rich area is the river overflow channel, where seasonal flooding brings nutrients that encourage a dense variety of plant life. It’s a reminder that natural processes still shape the landscape.

By allowing the meadow to grow throughout May, No Mow May supports this complex and thriving habitat.

The Dye Garden: Craft and Wildlife

Alongside the meadow, the dye garden offers a more structured environment, rooted in the history of textile production. For thousands of years, people used plants and minerals to dye fibres, a practice that continued in Welsh woollen mills well into the 20th century before synthetic dyes became dominant.

Today, the dye garden reconnects with this tradition, allowing the museum to explore the journey from plant to dyed fabric. Developed over many years and now cared for by natural dye practitioner Susan Martin, supported by the National Heritage Lottery Fund, it is both a working garden and a place of learning.

During the growing season, the garden is filled with colour—creating an inviting space for visitors but also attracting a wide range of wildlife. The same principle behind No Mow May—allowing plants the time and space to grow—benefits this cultivated area.

Wildlife Across the Site

Across both the meadow and dye garden, a diverse range of species can be found, each playing a role in maintaining the health of the environment.

Butterflies are among the most visible visitors, but many species are in long-term decline. One reason is the lack of suitable plants for caterpillars. The flowers that attract butterflies are not always the same plants they lay their eggs on.

At the Museum, plants often considered “weeds”—such as nettles, thistles and willow—are allowed to grow in certain areas, providing essential habitats for caterpillars.

Bees are equally important, from familiar bumblebees to species such as the wool carder bee. Hoverflies, often mistaken for wasps, also play a dual role: as adults they pollinate plants, while their larvae feed on aphids, helping to protect plant life.

Not all wildlife is immediately noticeable. Earthworms are vital to soil health, aerating the ground and breaking down organic matter. They also form an important part of the food chain—there’s nothing a mole enjoys more than an earthworm-rich feast.

Birds are regular visitors too. Robins are familiar companions to gardeners, often appearing when soil is disturbed and insects are brought to the surface.

The range of habitats across the site has also led to the identification of less common species. Museum scientists have recorded the spider Araeoncus humilis, classed as vulnerable in the UK—highlighting the importance of maintaining these environments.

Looking Ahead and Visiting

No Mow May is just one of the ways the National Wool Museum supports biodiversity, but its effects can be seen across the entire site.

By allowing grass and wildflowers to grow, the museum creates conditions in which insects, birds and animals can thrive. Spaces such as the dye garden show that conservation and cultural heritage are not separate, but deeply linked.

It has been exciting to see the variety of wildlife visiting the museum grounds, but there is always more to discover. Work is ongoing to support these habitats, including plans for wildlife cameras to capture even more of the species that visit.

Visitors are encouraged to explore the landscape for themselves. In April this year, a narrow path was cut through the meadow, allowing visitors to wander through the longer grass without disturbing the wildlife.

The Meadow Trail highlights some of the plants and animals that can be found across the site, while signage, supported by the National Heritage Lottery Fund GROW project, explains the importance of seasonal initiatives such as No Mow May.

By simply letting the grass grow, the National Wool Museum reveals a hidden world—one that changes with the seasons and rewards those who take the time to look a little closer.

Hi Bulb Buddies, 

Here are our amazing Bulbcast submissions for this year!

Enillwyr/Winners: 

Cortamlet Primary

Yn Ail / Runners-up: 

St Patrick’s RC Primary

Leslie Primary

Pinehurst Primary

Yn Drydydd/Third Place:

St Michael’s Clady

Well done everyone, it has been lovely to see all the hard work you have put into the project this year. Thank you for taking part in this competition, we hope you enjoy your prizes!

-Professor Plant

In March, I became Amgueddfa Cymru’s first ever graduate of the Future Generations Leadership Academy (FGLA)! 

Run by the Future Generations Commissioner for Wales, the FGLA brings together a selected group of 18-30 year-olds from all corners of Wales to unlock leadership skills and expand knowledge on the Wellbeing of Future Generations Act. 

This all started when Amgueddfa Cymru announced that they had been awarded funding via the National Lottery Heritage Innovation Fund Project #GROW to sponsor a participant, which then culminates in the person working with #GROW Project Leads to support sustainability and climate action in line with the Wellbeing of Future Generations Act. I have always been passionate about nature and how it can shape our identity, our place in the world and our wellbeing. As a second language Welsh speaker too, I always found the crossover of language with nature, and how it can evoke different connections to our cynefin deeply fascinating. This opportunity felt the perfect opportunity to implement this passion tangibly with the enrichment of the FGLA skills and knowledge I gain. 

I was so excited to be part of FGLA 5.0 this year and Amgueddfa Cymru’s first ever participant - it was both thrilling and a little daunting to be the first person ever. However, it has been an amazing chance to gain skills to drive positive changes within the organisation, inspired by the values of the Wellbeing of Future Generations Act. As a public body, Amgueddfa Cymru is subject to requirements of the Act, and it is pivotal that the next generations of staff have the knowledge and experience of it to channel it into positive action. 

My FGLA journey kicked off with a residency where I met my cohort for the first time. We shared ideas, our ambitions networked as future leaders.  We also met the residency speakers, Academy alumni, and the Future Generations Commissioner for Wales, Derek Walker. This was incredibly inspiring and set the tone for my fortnightly training sessions across the 8-month programme. 

I learned a range of things - from how to act and consider seven generations ahead, building a wellbeing economy, to how other leaders are pioneering the Act. Our final residency in North Wales further sparked my ideas and built my networks with people doing such amazing work across the public, third and private sector in Wales. As training developed, I also shared and explored ideas with different colleagues, and it’s been so gratifying seeing how others are excited at the potential of working in new ways. 

At last, my experience culminated with a fun but bitter-sweet graduation in Cardiff with my cohort, the Future Generations Office, alumni, as well as representatives from Welsh Government and organisations. I even took part as a speaker to present my change plan (more on that below!). It was amazing to be able to share how I’ve embedded my new skills and knowledge into a plan. 

So what’s next? As part of the FGLA, each person creates something called a ‘Change Plan’; a proposal in your area of expertise, which channels your new learning into a practical plan for their place of work to better align to the Wellbeing of Future Generations Act. My change plan looks at how we can blend language, nature and cynefin to develop opportunities for Amgueddfa Cymru audiences which invoke connection, belonging and wellbeing and helps people to connect to their cynefin and to nature overall. Linking these together not only fosters deeper learning and care about the natural world, it invites people to reconnect to nature, shares intangible cultural heritages and links language to ecological literacy.

The outcome of this contributes to a future Wales where growing people’s connections, knowledge and care for nature inspires future resilience. It also shows how Amgueddfa Cymru can be a hub for Welsh language as a way to experience nature and cynefin - inspired by our collections, spaces, programming, events and experiences.

I am immensely proud to have had this opportunity to develop, from scratch, an ambitious, creative plan aligned to Amgueddfa Cymru’s organisational goals. I’m excited to see how it may be applied in order to contribute to a better future for Wales. 

This opportunity would not have been possible without the support of the National Lottery Heritage Innovation Fund Project #GROW, which builds workforce resilience in the face of climate change. I also extend my grateful thanks to my GROW project colleagues, Sarah Younan, Heather Jackson, Steph Burge, and Victoria Hillman for all of their support.