Cyn's Nature Notes: December 1994

Thursday 1 December 1994

The Birch Tree

I awoke this morning to find there were no lawns, no paths, no dips or hollows, the food for the fox was no more than a rounded mound and Mike’s tracks from the door across to the fox’s “table” were no more. All was a wide, white expanse. Snow covered every bush and picked out each stick untidily topping the wood pile. The branches of the fir trees were heavy white masses. On the birch tree each branch was painted white and the delicate tracery of birch twigs were snow covered.

Perhaps of all the trees in the garden, I love the birch tree the best. It is beautiful in every season: in spring with tiny, fresh green shoots, in summer blowing prettily in the wind and wearing a new coat of both green leaves and dainty catkins, in autumn alive and golden and so beautiful with the sun shining on it, and a blue expanse of sky behind, or on any dark night with a bright moon lighting it, or on a freezing cold winter morning with a bright sun and hoar frost covering.

Yes, the birch tree that gives nurture to so many insects and birds and so much joy to my grandson when he climbs it. He climbs as near to the top as the fragile upper branches allow, so he can see across the fields and rivers from our village and beyond to the houses and railway tracks of the nearby town and further even to the park.

It is December now, but in February I shall stand by the birch tree with my arms encircling its trunk and my face against its roughness and I shall almost believe I can feel the sap rising, and I come away feeling refreshed and alive, calm and peaceful, growing stronger from the mighty birch’s strength.

This morning I gazed at the birch tree with its myriad small branches hanging, and the whole a delicate filigree tracing against the backdrop of the bluest sky and all the while bathed in the brightest sunshine.

Tonight is a very bright night because of the moonlight reflected by the snow. I see the birch tree again looking splendid – a filigree tracery of snow covered branches and twigs.

Overnight, the temperature is expected to drop to minus 5C and tomorrow is forecast bright and sunny. I shall endeavour to rise early enough to catch its icy beauty with my camera, and maybe I shall be lucky enough to take a picture good enough to frame, and hang on the wall. I shall take photographs all up and down the lane.

About this Blog

When we moved to our present home in December 1987, I was very ill and bedridden. My garden was a life-saver, although it was very different then. The first thing I did was to put up bird-feeders, and long hours were spent lying indoors in a recliner. This was when I discovered many things. Do you know the underside of every blue tit’s tail is differently marked? Gradually, over the years, the garden changed. We put in shrubs and plants that would not only enhance the garden, but would also be good for wildlife. The first rabbit we saw was so joyful for us. The deer eat the flowers, prune the apple trees, eat the marrow, and are wonderful to watch. Foxes have been a major part of our wildlife. We have fed them each night for more than 20 years. They are such a delight, especially in late summer and early autumn when there are youngsters. They behave like puppies and are great fun to watch.

I love all wildlife: the mason bees that nest in the brickwork of the bungalow, the hornets that last year made their home in the roof above our bedroom, the bees currently nesting in the roof above the bathroom. On a hot evening, if you stand quietly in the bathroom, you can hear this amazing sound: it is very rhythmic and reminds me of the waves at the seaside. It is made by the beating of the bees’ wings as they fan their nest to keep the temperature at the right level -- how many people have heard that sound? I feel so privileged.

Obviously, I feed the birds. When I open the window in the morning I call “Come on Bobby and Blackie”, and one followed swiftly by the other they fly immediately to the bird table. Each morning, on rising, I make my way to the kitchen and find the squirrels already sitting on the window ledge waiting to be fed. Winter brings the moorhens and spring time the mallards. Our pond is a poor effort from a human point of view, but wild creatures see it differently. On summer days, the grass snakes spend long hours in the pond: eating the fish, froglets, toadlings, newts, and any other living creature they can swallow. Although I hate to see the pond emptied this way, I do enjoy the snakes and feel they are an important part of the balance of nature in the garden. Watching a dragonfly nymph climbing out of the pond, up a plant stalk, and then over the next few hours gradually transforming into a beautiful dragonfly -- these are contented hours well spent.

It has been my pleasure to write and publish a nature column each month. I am always delighted to hear how much pleasure this brings to my readers. I have often been asked if I have written a book, so I am making more of my writings and photography available through this web site and blog.