DOWN by the River Devon there is a fallen beech tree which I can never resist examining each time I pass.

The reason for my fascination lies in the multitude of different types of fungi growing upon its decaying trunk – a case of death for one species delivering life for others. As I scrutinised the tree last week, there was a type of fungi growing on its crumbling bark that I had never noticed before; a creeping and wrinkly variety with orange and yellow hues.

Fungi are notoriously difficult to identify, and even the same species often show great variation, but I’m pretty sure this was a species known as velvet crust. It covered the tree trunk in large patches and brought dazzling colour to the otherwise grey winter landscape.

Also growing on this old beech were many small bracket fungi packed into dense tiers. It was a species I’m more familiar with – the varicoloured bracket – with each one featuring narrow concentric zones of differing colour, including bluey-greys, rusty-reds and black.

It is all too easy to ignore the vast array of fungi found in our countryside, but their importance to the environment is immense. Quite simply, fungi make the natural world go round – they are recyclers, nutrient providers for plants and underpin every type of habitat there is.

Foxes are in frisky mood just now and on a few occasions recently I’ve heard their barking and shrieking during the dead of night. Both dog foxes and vixens are highly vocal at this time of year as it is their peak courting time. The vixen is only receptive to mate for a few days each year and there is no room for error; miss the opportunity and then there will be another year to wait.

But with most vixens pregnant by early February, the night air soon falls silent again and a new generation of foxes is on its way.