Wild Things – C4

“NATURE,” says horticulturalist Chris Myers, “is on the move.”And he doesn’t mean Triffids.

“Wild plants, bushes, and trees have disappeared,” he continues, “and strange new plants have become familiar.” If he means that mildew on our shower curtain, that’s been there for years.

Wild Things tries to explain our country’s changing flora. Myers, for example, is concerned for the good old British bluebell. “It’s under threat from an invader,” he revealed, “the Spanish bluebell.” Whether the BNP’s aware of this influx is unclear.

“It looks the same,” explained Myers, “but with one key difference - the Spanish bluebell doesn't smell.” On the other hand it can more than hold its own with a pair of maracas.

Mirroring a Club 18-30 to Benidorm, the British and Spanish have started to breed. “The new hybrid bluebells have already started to infiltrate our woodland,” revealed Myers. “We stand to lose that unique scent forever.” It’s coming to something when you have to take a can of Glade on a walk.

Myers is an interesting new presence on our screens. He’s like Ray Mears only without the desire to create a shelter from moss.

“I like to mooch about in the countryside,” he says, “to see nature in the wild.” Which made his next statement even more bizarre. “This week we're in Birmingham,” he said. Surely the only wildlife to be found round there is flea infestations.

Myers was fascinated by the M6. “It may seem an unlikely starting point,” he said, “but in the last 50 years the roads have become Britain’s latest nature reserve.” Forget Martin Mere, take the family for an educational day out on the hard shoulder.

Charmingly named miniature flowering plant Danish scurvy grass – get your wife a bunch for Valentine’s Day - was what grabbed Myers. It’s found all along our motorways, its seeds transported by car wheels, and the presenter got straight in there. “It's not every day that you get to walk down the central reservation of the M6,” he said. No, makes you wonder why you waste so much time trailing round Dovedale and the Lake District.

Down on his hands and knees, he was much taken with the plant. It was just a shame about the lead poisoning.

“I came to Birmingham with a mind full of concrete and tarmac,” he admitted. “Not much room for animals and plants.” But he needn’t reproach himself. It’s understandable that people go to Birmingham harbouring negative thoughts. That way what you find there can only be a bonus.

Next week: The microscopic life of a D-road puddle.