Thursday 1 September 1994

September in the Garden

Winter approaches our part of the world. The morning air is damp and chill, autumn has suddenly arrived in all her splendour. The ripening apples are reflected in the reds, yellows and oranges of their loosening leaves. The roadsides are breathtaking and eye-catching in their beauty: the bright red of berries and leaves sit side by side with all other autumn colors and every imaginable shade of green. England is truly beautiful.

This week, in the garden, I have seen the expected garden birds, but also some less frequent visitors: a flycatcher, a jay, warblers, many wrens and robins already disputing their winter territories. The most fascinating bird has been the magpie. Some time ago I watched as one fed from the bird table and when satiated continued to collect bread in huge beakfuls and hide it in the gutters of a neighbour’s outbuilding. Recently, I watched as it collected food and hid it in the cracks of paving stones and under rocks, pushing and poking each piece until it was out of sight. Another morning, I watched as it buried bread in the lawn covering it with leaves, twigs and beakfuls of grass plucked from nearby. Magpies are such resourceful birds, a magpie will quickly clear a pile of food put out for the smaller birds, by hiding it away for his own needs later.