Hungry Winter Wildlife

The leafless trees are a great boon and how pretty they have looked, decked first with snow and then with frost. The boon is of course the ease with which we are able to spot birds. During the last week I have seen all three woodpeckers; the striking black, white and red great and lesser; the pretty green and yellow green; the mouse like treecreeper as he repeatedly darts up and flies down the trunk of the silver birch tree; charms of goldfinches and flocks of long tailed tits and of course all of the usual birds.

The food put out for the wildlife disappears rapidly and I entreat you all not to throw scraps away, those crumbs or that piece of fat destined for the bin may be the difference between life and death for some of our feathered friends this weather.

I always boil chicken carcasses down to make soup, during this process the bones become softened and then make fillings for the fox sandwiches, if for some reason I am unable to do this, then I hang the carcass from a tree and the tits cling all over it, gradually picking it clean.

The squirrels seem ravenous, but on watching them one morning, I discovered a fair bit of what they take is not consumed but buried! However, later that evening I watched a fox, who after finishing his food went back and forth across the lawn digging up the food stashed away by the squirrels -- so it is interesting to watch the squirrels carefully bury their food then magpies and jays gather it in the day and foxes do so at night.

New Animal Behaviours

Intrigued, I watched a new behavior by the jay today. He stood on a rotten branch and pecked at it breaking pieces off and dropping them to the ground. I have not seen this before and wondered if he was looking for grubs or insects to supplement his winter diet.

I was amused by a squirrel who when I opened the window stood underneath and watched me. I reached for a biscuit, broke off a piece and tossed it toward him. Quick as a flash he stepped forward, his arms shot out and he caught it. I would have liked to see if he would repeat this new behavior, but as soon as he had the biscuit piece it was in his mouth and he was off.

With much pleasure today, I watched a treecreeper on the birch tree making his way from the bottom upward, then flying down to near the base of the tree and starting again.

I also saw a ten-strong charm of pretty red-faced goldfinches in the birch tree this morning.

Dunnocks Mating

There are fieldfares in the cotoneaster and holly. They are such large and pretty members of the thrush family, and so welcome in my garden.

A surprising sight this late morning was dunnocks mating. Later, I was drawn to the window by the insistent one note call of a dunnock, and looking out I saw a flighty female performing for three males, who in their ardour were caught between paying court to her and chasing off their rivals.

After a few minutes it all died down and the young (three years old) pheasant came to feed. He came alone and it is a couple of days since I have seen his father, whom I call the emperor, on account of his regal attitude and beautiful colouring. There has been the sound of shooting in the nearby fields and I hope he is safe. He has been with us for so many years I would hate for him to end up on someone’s plate. He looks glorious wandering around outside.

The fox has been coming very late, my fault because I have been slow to get his food ready. I must make a greater effort in future. We rarely have more than one at a time now,although we are still visited by at least two. The bright white of the snow makes them easier to watch during these dark nights.

Young Squirrel

The squirrels are very lively today. There are four of them: two fully grown fat ones who climb on to the kitchen window ledge and bang on the window; and two smaller thin ones. At first, I thought the thin squirrels were a pair that had happened upon the garden by chance and found the feeding station, but now I think they are the youngsters of the older, fatter pair.

The young ones stir up the older squirrels, quite literally running rings around them. The younger pair have been nervous of people, but they clear food from the bird tables and the ground, and from a distance, they beg for more. Today, however, saw a change in their behavior when one of them jumped on the window ledge and sat there watching me. I waved to him and picked up some food, gently opening the window so as not to alarm him. I expected him to leap away, but instead he snatched the food and then fled. I hope, in time, he will learn to take food as gently as the older pair do.

Lucky Squirrel

Snow. The daytime high today is zero degrees.

We are on our way to Papworth for my scan.

A few miles before Buntingford I spotted a sparrowhawk sitting hunched on a fence post. I suppose with all the snow times are hard for him.

We are traveling on the A10 and we are two miles short of Royston. We pass a red kite hovering at head height over the roadside verge.

Entering Cambridgeshire we pass a large field with a light covering of snow. I was delighted to see a flock of green plovers, also known as lapwings, and as they petered out so a flock of sheep came into view. They were clustered mainly along our side of the field where the green grass showed -- the rest of the field was snow covered and only a few intrepid sheep had braved this area.

The snow in wooded areas, especially where the ground is banked, is reminiscent of swathes of springtime snowdrops, as the snow covering is minimally broken by twigs or leaves showing above.

Passing Cambourne and Caxton we encountered a squirrel crossing the road. Panicking, he ran to and fro on the road. We were too close to dodge him, and my heart was in my mouth as we drove forward, but at the last moment he lay still in the road and we passed right over him, and he lived to see another day.

Spiders Courting

The other afternoon while glancing out of the back bedroom window, my attention was caught by a short-tailed field vole running back and forth along the top of the bank. Suddenly, I noticed a beautiful spider’s web on a buddleia. It stretched hugely between the branches. I love cobwebs; I find them not only intricate, but also fascinating. Just imagine not only being able to make a web, but also to produce the silk to do so yourself.

As I admired the web, I noticed sitting in the top right-hand corner, its maker. I watched hoping a butterfly would not get trapped, as I would have to go outside to rescue it. All of a sudden, the whole web vibrated as a second spider ran on to it from below; instantly the first spider ran out and down toward the newcomer. She rushed at him until he backed off. To make it easier I shall refer to the first spider as she/her and the second spider as he.

This happened several times and by now I was intrigued. I felt he obviously wanted to make contact, but her movements were aggressive while his were tentative and nervous. I wondered if he was courting her, having read that this act could result in the female devouring the male, I decided to stay watching. After twenty minutes of his slow approaches, followed quickly by his withdrawals, he lost courage altogether and left the scene.

From the kitchen window, I watched dragonflies hawking insects, whirring helicopter-like across the lawn. One particular large brown dragonfly, with wings outstretched and its length from nose to tail, reminded me of a wren, both in size and color.

I have been lucky enough to spot red kites in this area: one above Ware, another over the A10, the fourth one over the M11, and the best of all, the third one, was right over my own garden.

Lapwings, Curlews and Bright Skies

A flock of two dozen or more lapwings are in the field beyond the paddock. Absolutely stunning in flight and so pretty when they landed with their shimmering green feathers and crests. Among the lapwings are several curlews. Interesting to see these two species together and to note how much bigger the curlew is compared to the lapwing.

The sky was amazing tonight. It was one of the brightest skies I have ever seen, and such intriguing colours and patterns made by the clouds. I took photographs.

Spider and Fly

I noticed a spider’s thread glistening in the light across the window. The daylight picked out the thread. It did not appear part of a web, though it could have been in the process of being made. Now I see, the web is a poor thing, and the spider looks like an ordinary garden spider with stripy legs. The design may look bad to me, but is clearly effective. For while I watch, a fly has become entangled in the line and the spider hurried across and has snatched at his prey and bound it over and over again, until it ceased struggling and is no more than a white-shrouded victim. The spider then retired to the side of his web and sat there. A second insect was quickly trapped and dealt with in the same manner as the first. The spider moved him to the edge of the web, then went back to the first victim and brought him to the same spot as the second one, and appears to be, while holding it with his front legs, sucking dry the second victim. One insect less for the bats, three types of which fly over the garden at night. The spider now satiated sits fatly on the side of his web.

Autumn Changes

We are traveling along the A10 to Addenbrookes. The hawthorne berries are hanging heavy on the may trees, weighing down the branches. Whether it is a sign of a hard winter to come, or not, I am unsure, but I do know that it bodes well for our feathered friends. Large bunches of sycamore keys, prettily pale green, and so prolific standing out from the darker green leaves of the tree, each bunch settled lower than their adjacent leaves. I just noticed the beautiful blue-black of the sloe berries thickly filling the spaces along their prickly, leafy branches.

This summer, my life changed. At the end of May I was diagnosed with a form of lung cancer, it is caused by a gene mutation (why? how? I don’t know, but would be interested to), and interestingly primarily affects non-smoking women. I don’t know what my future holds now. I do know that although my flesh may be weak my spirit is strong and I shall fight this with all my might. I am a strong person and have my family firmly behind me. I will continue with my nature notes. Writing them has given me much pleasure, and to know at the same time, they are giving pleasure to my readers makes it all the more special.

The rose bay willow herb flowers are over, and instead we have whirls of feathery seeds, all intermingled with the down of the thistles, which grow hard against them.

Summer Fades to Autumn

We are on our way to Addenbrookes, but this time not on the pretty A10. Because we had to drop off a prescription at the doctor’s office we will be taking the M11.

Although it is lunchtime, a layer of mist lays low across the meadows. It is that time of year when summer gives way to autumn and bright autumn berries mingle with pretty summer roses. The leaves on horse chestnut trees are brown, and the prickly green conker cases are clearly visible.

A surprisingly short show of Himalayan Balsam edges a pond. I have seen these plants standing tall before, but here they are densely packed, prettily pink and white, only 2-3 feet high.

My month away from home has wrought many changes. Today I saw a young hedgehog wandering the garden and hurried out to feed him. He ate speedily and then set off across the lawn to a birdbath, climbed up on the side and leaned over to have a long drink. He surprised me by climbing right into the birdbath and just standing there. He did drink while in the water, but the majority of the time he just stood. Eventually he climbed out and sat grooming himself for ages.

The fields are looking bare. The harvest has been gathered in and fields that have not been already ploughed have only stubble remaining. Great flocks of birds are either settled gleaning goodies or flying low over the fields perhaps searching for future meals.

An abundance of windfall apples litter the motorway verges and here and there a pheasant fallen prey to the speed of vehicles.

The flower heads on the ivy look beautiful. They are thick this year and form a dense covering that completely obscures the ivy leaves below.

A Weasel & Thin Squirrels

It’s Friday night. All week I’ve been away from home, with thoughts of the weasel darting and chasing through my head. Now, I stand in my kitchen; look down to the pond, and like magic he appears. My grandson sees him: “It is the first time I’ve ever seen a weasel alive and not running across a road”, he says. "He looks a bit like a sausage with one end raised up". I can’t take my eyes off this pretty scampering fellow. Back and forth across the lawn, round and about the pond, in and out of the geraniums, he appears and disappears so quick – he’s so sprightly. While we’re still enjoying his capering fun he disappears up the bank and leaves us elated, but bereft. Happy to have seen him and so sad he’s gone.

Along the A10, the roadside verges have changed. They are almost totally different. The heavy rain showers of late have greened the grass and caused a new outcrop of wild flowers. We passed a massive colony of rose bay willow herb still standing purple and proud, but the crowd of thistles in front was smothered in a thick layer of down. It had been broken at the edges by the insistent wind, carrying the seeds off to pastures new. As a child, I collected this down and made doll’s pillows and mattresses for my sisters’ dolls with it.

The thin squirrels are insistently banging on the windows asking for food – summer is their hardest time. And more squirrels starve to death at this time of year than most people realize. Happily, while I’ve been away, my son has fed them.

The Dry Garden

The weather remains hot and almost totally dry with very little rain – so little, in fact, that when it happens it’s instantly absorbed and evaporated and makes no difference to the garden.

The marrow plant has 5 marrows, each about 8” long. Most of the flowers produced by the marrow plant are gobbled up by the deer, so few fruits are produced. The butternut squash plants produce plenty of flowers, but as yet no fruit, due again, of course, to the deer’s’ dining habits. Perhaps I should just take a leaf from the deer’s book and use the flowers in a salad, or even make a nice corn flour batter and after clipping the flowers fry them crisply in sweet virgin olive oil. Somehow though, I think I’ll keep my fingers crossed and hope, by and by, for some flowers to be spared and few butternut squash to grow. Last year’s crop tasted far better than any purchased in a supermarket.

The lawn remains more dead than alive looking although I know it will come back lush and green, in time. I felt sorry for the birds today, pecking away at the dry hard lawn, so I threw on to the centre of the lawn an apple, a tomato, and 3 plums, watching carefully. I was surprised to see a male blackbird chose, not the apple or the plums, but went straight for the tomato and made a feast of it – delightful to watch.

The plums are growing well in the Victoria tree, but it is always a battle between the wasps, the birds, and us to see who does best. The conference pear tree has been great this year due to the bees moving into the blue tit box. The family of blue tits moved out and the babies are back in the garden now, and divide their time between the peanuts, the fat balls, and the pears on the tree. I think they will be the winners of the pear tree fruit this year.

Annoyances: Cancer and Burrs

Oncologist appointment at Addenbrookes, followed by planning scan for radiotherapy.

Traveling as usual the pretty A10, with its patchwork of fields stretching out from each side, with occasional villages and small towns to pass through.

It is a mainly straight road, with just one stretch of dual carriageway, stretching almost all the way between the Harlow roundabout and the Braughing turning. Almost the entire journey is made so pleasant by the wild flowers which cover the verges, great armies of stately rose bay willow herb, climbing out of ditches, marching along straights and ascending banks verging the verges, they march together with armies of thistles, once stunningly purple, now fluffy-headed. The tall grasses have now turned golden in the warmth of the sun and with the lack of rain. The umbellifers now stand head and shoulders above the other flowers and are but seed heads now, but how magnificent they look, standing sentinel above the others. I love to squat down and photograph these monstrously large plants, against a clear blue sky.

A walk by the river yesterday evening, showed the burdocks with their enormous leaves and round prickly offerings, drying on the plants, not only in readiness to procreate but also patiently waiting for dogs with their furry coats to pass by, each prickle on the burr has a little hook on the end and it is very effective, many country walks have ended with twenty minutes of burrs being picked off socks, trousers, sweaters and jackets; gardening gloves are best to be worn when doing this as the hooks also like to engage with skin.

Better even than skin is dog fur, for many years we had shelties (Shetland sheepdogs) their beautiful long fur was exactly right for the burrs and our four-legged friends were sometimes so entangled by these prickly seeds that it became impossible for them to walk, and we would stop and have to spend ages trying to free them. At last I wised up, after many years, and took a small pair of scissors on walks for the worst ones were always caught up in the soft fur where the leg meets the body; it must have been so unpleasant for our little friends – who were so frolicksome and happy when released.

Roadside Verges in July

Off to Addenbrookes for early appointment.

Stately spires of purples and rose-pink rose bay willow herb grew in sweeping swathes along the roadside verges, side by side with tall, purple prickly thistles, nearby nestling close to the ground and shining brightly upward are immense patches of the brightest yellow tom thumb, here and there meadowsweet grows, and I wish we could stop and I could press my face into its flowers and drink in its pleasant sweetness. No wonder in medieval times it was used by cottagers to strew on the earthen floors of their dwellings.

The grass on all the verges is now straw-coloured and in places has died away to expose the stony ground it grows upon. Vetch grows bushlike, two feet high and more flowers than leaves, a few pale mauve, but mostly white, pinky-mauve mallow flowers lay mostly along the ground, just lifting their pretty heads as if showing the sun their faces. Here and there, bright red poppies, the same shade as my arterial blood, drift alongside the road and sit pleasantly among the other flowers. We have had many hot days now and on every one of them the grass-snakes are to be found in and around the pond. As I write, I suddenly realize there are no fish and no newts, frogs or tadpoles to be seen, of course they have made fine meals for the snakes. I would like to think lurking among the stones a few have managed to survive, frogs and toads will have spawned and left the pond, but of course, tiny toadlings, froglets and baby newts will have been eaten by the snakes.

Bullying Magpies

Another glorious summer day. Worrying this morning to watch the magpies harrying a young, green woodpecker. I feared they might set on him and kill him as they did the blackbird a few weeks back, but the matter was settled as soon as we went outside because the magpies flew away.

June Happenings

Again today, I watched a grass-snake, this one medium-sized. The noisy magpies have been in and out of the garden all day, with their youngsters.

Tonight we again watched with pleasure the young fox, once more he ate his fill and when he was done what he couldn’t eat he carried away – making untold journeys. Cut the hazel trees back today. We lost a fine crop of nuts, but the trees had grown far too large.

Along the A10

To Papworth for brain scan.

Hedgerows are so green. Last year’s teasels dark brown stand giant-like on the tall daisy-filled verges. Passed two stretches of bright red poppies and long stretches of lime green euphorbias. Across a field I caught a glimpse of the river, with tall rose bay willow herb growing along side. On the roadside verge I have seen large growths of bright yellow tom thumb and delicate lavender coloured vetch, I also spied one blue lupin plant, I’m looking forward to the next few years when hopefully it will have seeded and spawned many offspring. I think they will make a good addition to the verges. Sorrel has grown tall and reddish-brown patches of it stand out amongst the wild flowers.

We passed again the field full of bright red poppies, this time at 8am, there was a lady standing right in the middle of it, her bicycle dropped on the side and her, with her hands on her hips, just standing and looking around at the wondrous sight.

There is a roundabout on the A10 near the A120 and the predominant color on the verges leading to the roundabout is a strong purple from the thistle-like plant growing there.

Mallows, poppies, and umbellifers embellish the next stretch of road. Elders grow thickly here and are in full creamy white flower, following is a stretch made beautiful by the huge bushes of dog and field roses, with their graceful hanging branches, thickly adorned by blossoms from white through palest pink to darkest pink – so beautiful.

We passed a breathtaking field of red poppies and brightest yellow rape, growing side by side in large loose stripes of red and yellow – breathtaking.

How lucky we are to live in England and to have all of this beauty freely available for us to enjoy. The lush green background naturally enhances the foreground. More hedgerows adorned by even more wild roses.

Toward Royston, yellow rape has escaped the confines of the fields and now brightens the verges, together with white campion this we used to call milkmaids when I was a child.

Past Basingbourne-cum-Kneesworth is a very pretty stretch of verge it has red poppies, white campion, daisies and umbellifers, and contrasting beautifully blue geraniums.


Toward Papworth we passed ditches with fluffy seed-covered bulrushes reaching upward and waiting for a brisk breeze to spread their seeds.

Homeward bound.

A sober journey – the tumor is larger than two and a half centimeters not yet three and is stage 1b, but they think it has spread into the lymph glands.

I feel a great weight of sadness within me at the thought that I might not beat this cancer, so much in life I wanted to do, and I fear it is too late. I must adapt to this and be strong, for Mike, Rick, John and Angie. I think I shall miss the little girls growing up and any children Rick may have. I have already been so lucky: I have never lost a living child and I have been so close to my own dear children and to dear Rick, also to my darling little granddaughters.

Foxes

An entertaining hour this evening from 9 to 10pm, we had put the fox food out early and were not disappointed. The pale-coated youngster came, he either sat or laid down to eat. There were 8 slices of cheese on toast all cut into bite-size squares, spread on the lawn in front of the patio.

At first he just ate, and ate, and ate, then he became selective, he moved across the lawn from piece to piece, stopping here or laying down there and eating a piece. Soon he changed mode again, and slowly walking over the lawn he investigated each piece, sometimes laying down and taking a square between his paws, he would then scrape off the cheese with his teeth and eat it discarding the bread.

Eventually, he reached a point of satiation and could obviously eat no more, so, slowly, piece by piece, he gathered them up and carried them off making journey after journey until he had cleared the lawn.

Earlier today we found a large hole dug under the old bendy apple tree, and immediately thought of foxes. We both feel a fox den in our little bit of heaven would be wonderful.

The Longest Day of the Year

Today dawned bright and beautiful, the sky was so blue and not one cloud in sight.

On my way to Addenbrookes for my full body scan, up and breakfasted by 5am, then back to bed until 8am. We drove the A10 route, and had hardly traveled any distance, before we saw road verges red with poppies and near to Ware a field of poppies, breathtaking in its redness made all the more so by green field edges, hedges and trees which surrounded it. All the verges are alive with flowers especially the tall white daisies, that Pam, my mother-in-law was so fond of, the mainly white changed to purple as thistles overtook the daisies, then yellow as buttercups became the main flower.

Creamy white umbellifers stood proudly head and shoulders above all other wayside flowers. Mauve mallows, red poppies and white umbellifers surrounded by a sea of green grass made the prettiest display, just before Buntingford. Here and there were bright yellow splashes of tom thumb.

Huge bramble bushes, bloomed with the promise of autumn goodies and both field and dog roses were especially beautiful being so massed with flowers were they.

The elders are in flower, also with a promise of autumn goodies. I promised myself I would make elderflower champagne this year, but I don’t know now whether or not I will.

The best sight though was in Ware, when we looked up and saw a red kite, we have often watched these birds in Berkshire, Oxfordshire, Buckinghamshire and are so pleased to see them in Hertfordshire now. Just after Royston, blue geraniums, purple vetch, mauve mallow, red poppies and yellow wayside flowers made a very pretty scene.

Evening addendum
Today is the longest day of the year, so at present the evenings stay light until late. We put the fox food out at 9:40pm and sat watching the TV with the curtains open, at 10:10pm I glanced out of the window and noticed a tiny baby fox, if he were a sheltie puppy I would guess he was 8-10 weeks old, he was very tiny – the smallest fox cub we’ve ever seen. At first he appeared to be alone, then after a few minutes an adult, pale in colour, appeared, by her size I guess she was a female, while the cub ran about and randomly ate she collected food in her mouth and ran with it back out of the garden. She must have been feeding young because before very long she was back again. This continued until all the food was gone, and then she left and the young cub followed her.

Amphibians

Mike cleared a patch of overgrown garden at the north side of the pond. I’ve never seen him work so hard or with so much fervor. I pottered round and about without achieving much at all, the pond was a great fascination to me due to myriad tadpoles, some much larger than others. I have also seen two newts: one brown and one with a red underside. There’s a beautiful yellow frog in the pond.

Fox Tales

Now the garden is full of flowers and alive with the sight and sound of bees of many types, also several baby birds including robins, blue and great tits, blackbirds, wrens, and long-tailed tits.

Another fox also walks through the garden mid-afternoons, smaller, more ginger than red, probably a female. It didn't have the same strutting confidence of the rich red one, but even so walked through at a leisurely pace. They both seem very at home. I guess they are the same ones who feed here at night.

It's wonderful to see them, but at the same time worrying, because they pass so near to the ducks and fear always hangs heavy within me, like a lead weight, and creeps up to tickle the back of my throat, and then creeps down my arms weakening them, and sending tickly feelings into the palms of my hands. The first time I did nothing but stood with my heart in my mouth and leaden limbs. Now I am able to gather myself together and make my way into the garden, where I stand between the fox and ducks. Neither take any notice of me, or each other!

I am reminded of the time a few years back when we had a lot of ducklings in the garden, and were visited by a fox with designs on them. I saw him cross the garden and I rushed out, as I did so I heard Mrs Duck quacking. She managed to get all of her ducklings on the pond and I breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, she flew out of the water and straight at the fox, in so doing she played right into his hands, because as she flew from the pond her ducklings panicked and scrambled from all sides out of the pond, and fled in all directions all over the garden peeping loudly, and by so doing told Mr Fox their positions.

Mrs Duck realised. as did I, what was about to happen: both she and I made straight for the wily fox, he ran right between us after a duckling. The next several minutes were spent chasing the fox around the garden as he chased the ducklings. Eventually, gathering up three in his mouth and leaving several others dead or dying, he left.

Mrs Duck made her way back to the pond with her two remaining ducklings, she was very flustered and I was worried about her, and wished the pond were bigger with an island and duck house in the middle, but at least for today and now, Mrs Duck is safe.

Grass Snakes

The blue tits that flew the nest on May 21st are back in the garden. It is a delight to see them flitting from bush to bush and through the trees. In the box that the first blue tits flew from earlier there is now a nest of bees – the amount coming and going is so great that there is a huge swarm all day hovering in front of the box as they have to queue for entry.

The first dragonfly also appeared on May 21st, now a month later, there are so many in the garden.

Two weeks ago at the beginning of June I saw the large grass-snake in the pond. It is enormous: 3 feet long and very thick. Yesterday, I saw what was either a female or a younger male at least 2 feet long. It was good to see another grass-snake in the garden – I’m lucky enough to have seen them at least 6 feet long. I have never seen a nest of grass-snake eggs, though perhaps I must have, when I was a child, because I remember their softness. I did once find a sloughed off skin from a fully grown grass-snake, which I left in the garden. I’ve often wished I’d kept it.

The tadpoles in the pond are enormous, but show no sign of change – no legs yet. While I watched the tadpoles a large swan flew over. I love the sound of their wings as they fly. I often play a game with myself: if I hear a bird fly by I have to identify it by the sound of its flight. Pigeons and swans are easiest.

Birds Moult

Birds have started their summer moult. I particularly notice it with pigeons; as they fly over the garden their flight feathers fall to the earth, spiraling down like sycamore keys.

Red Dog Fox

I was surprised to see one of the foxes, a beautiful rich red dog fox, walking slowly and majestically through the garden this afternoon. He looked magnificent, not at all like a wild animal. His fur was thick and lustrous and he looked very well nourished. He looked more like a well fed pet than a scavenger.

On the Way to Reading

On the way to Reading again. The verges still have daisies and dandelions on them, but these have been joined by oxford ragwort, field buttercups with long stems and cheerful poppies bright and red, and standing out against the yellow, green and white.

Roadside hedgerows are high with overgrown bushes and trees in full leaf. Between the trees we catch a glimpse of the English countryside beyond: a patchwork of green fields with the odd yellow one, each neatly edged with hedges in different shades of green.

It is an overcast day with overlapping layers of cloud from white to the darkest grey.

Roadside verges are being cut, and I wonder how necessary this really is. The cost must be very high as lanes have been coned off by teams of men in vehicles before any cutting takes place, and then all the cones have to be removed again afterward. I much prefer edgings of wildflowers to neat lawn-like edges.

Joining the M25, I was delighted to see a large patch of pink campion, and shortly after, long swathes of English bluebells dark blue and bowing their fragrant heads – absolutely wonderful and what a great idea to plant them there. I just hope nobody decides to trim these verges while they are in bloom.

Here and there we see a blackbird, beak full and still trying to pack more in to fill the young gapes waiting in the nests. Three crows loitered by the roadside – I could not see any road kill, perhaps they were just hopeful.

Bright yellow laburnum and delicate pink and white apple blossom can be seen from time to time. I suppose the laburnum has grown from seeds dropped by birds and apple trees have sprung from discarded apple cores.

The hawthorns are covered in blossom and seem to be the predominant tree in the hedgerows. Interestingly, they are all white so far, not a single pink one yet. I’m glad to see so many – they are home to many insects, and in the autumn and winter laden with haws providing a welcome larder for both birds and mammals. Another name for haws is bread and cheese; when I was a child and sent to fetch the shopping after school , I was often hungry and ate haws from trees along the way, eating them like apples and discarding the centre. They were not very filling, but were always welcome.

We saw one beautiful pink ornamental tree laden with flowers, and on the M4, we passed a stretch of rhododendron bushes that were huge and covered with flowers in shades of mauve, pink and red – wonderful. Further along, we saw two fields of white horses. We always look out for them because they are an unusual, but much enjoyed sight. Spring must be wonderful for these creatures with all the fresh green growth. For us, it is more challenging, because with all that new growth it can be harder to see what creatures are in the fields behind.

Interestingly, we only saw one pigeon and it was dead by a roadside in Hertfordshire.

Magpies are More than Scavengers

There has been so much I could have written about, but one thing stands out above all others because it was so unexpected. It was around 8.45p.m. when our attention was drawn to the garden through the kitchen window, by the sound of blackbirds in distress. I have already written about the siting of the magpie nest and the grandstand view of the garden, and the wildlife therein from their lofty lookout, but I haven't yet told of how bullying the magpies have become. They spend a great deal of each day chasing and harrying the larger garden birds; blackbirds, jays, crows and pigeons -- for some reason they show no interest in the smaller birds, although I have seen them chasing the squirrel many times.

The blackbirds are the worst affected and hardly have a minute's peace, the magpies swoop on them constantly, chasing them, twisting and turning, this way and that and always the poor blackbirds are giving distress calls as they try to dodge their aggressor. This evening it was clear the magpies were at it again, then the unbelievable happened, as we watched, one of the two magpies chasing the blackbirds suddenly caught the female in mid-air, and brought it down to earth, while the other magpie fended off the male blackbird. The grounded blackbird was being held down and attacked by the magpie, it was very distressed and its cries coupled with those of its mate rent the air, causing other blackbirds to gather in the garden. Despite the magpies being mobbed by the gathering blackbirds they held their own, one magpie managed to keep all the blackbirds at bay, while the other one continued to attack its helpless victim.

All of a sudden it was over, the captured blackbird ceased to struggle or call, the other blackbirds flew off and the aerial magpie flew to a lower bough of the cherry tree. Within 10 seconds the attacking magpie ceased and flew off followed by its mate, leaving the dead blackbird laying on the lawn. The only comfort I can feel is in the fact that the blackbird will be nourishment for the fox. Small comfort though.
I have read that magpies only eat carrion (dead meat) this I refute. I have watched magpies attack and kill an almost fully grown rat, many small ducklings and now the blackbird. The rat was attacked until it had no fight left in it and was then carried off, the ducklings and blackbird were different, they were not carried off and appeared wanton, callous killings.

Next morning I still found it difficult to believe that I had witnessed two magpies hunt and bring down a female blackbird -- and worst of all kill and leave it there. They clearly were not driven by hunger, so what was the purpose, could it just have been the fun of the chase?

This morning the dead blackbird had disappeared, carried off no doubt by the fox. From the above incidents witnessed with my own eyes, I know for certain that magpies hunt and kill their prey, but is it sometimes for pleasure?

The male blackbird successfully reared the young, I watch them every day and so far they have not been bothered once by the magpies.

Trip to Grantchester

We are traveling along a new stretch of the A10 on the way to Grantchester. This is a particularly lovely stretch as for miles one drives through thousands of cowslips. Cowslips and primroses have always been favorites of mine – as a child I was sent out to collect armfuls of them.

I love these sun-drenched evenings when the sun catches the treetops making them glow golden, while at ground level verges, banks and bushes are in shadow because the sun is so low in the sky.

As you drive through the village of Buckland, there is a cram coloured house with a very eye-catching shrub growing up the side of it.

So many road kills alongside the A10, including foxes, pheasants and badgers.

We saw many rabbits along the verges and in one spot two chasing each other up and down a bank.

Our lovely afternoon in Grantchester included seeing, for the first time, Grantchester Meadows. They are beautiful, bordered on one side by a flat, easily walkable footpath, and on the other by the river Cam, with its clean and relatively fast-flowing water and wonderful reflections of the trees edging it. One or two of the meadows were home to beautiful cattle that resembled Devon Reds. WE had to pass between them. Normally, I am suspicious and untrusting of cattle, but these were so docile. I saw many people walk past them, and noted how even when dogs were near the cattle took no notice. When my turn came I walked through easily and even stopped to take some photographs.

En Route to Chelmsford

We are driving along the winding roads to Chelmsford for my dental appointment. We pass by olive coloured oak trees, weeping willows and apple trees bursting with blossom. We move through banks of yellow cowslips and even yellower fields of rape. There are high hedges and higher trees, roadside edges yellow with buttercups and dandelion, white with dead nettles and plants of the umbellifers family. Here are there are clumps of pink campion. Horse chestnuts proudly holding their flower spikes aloft like candles on a birthday cake. Have you ever looked closely at one of those flowers? They are exquisite.

Reaching the suburbs, ornamental trees and shrubs abound, as do: lilacs, berberis, chrysanthemums, laburnum, copper beech, red robin, the floriferous montana, clematis and flowering cherries.

Spring is Really Here

Down by the river, the brambles are growing thickly and prickly. Knee-high stinging nettles on either side of the path lean in to “kiss” you with their wickedly toxic tips. Through the woods, sturdy bluebells grow strongly between the delicate-leaved and pretty, lacy flowers of the umbellifers family, including cowslips. They make such a pretty combination with the bluebells.


Spring really is here at last, despite the coldness of some days. On the river, the brown and yellow fluffy balls of ducklings are floating alongside their mother. Everywhere is prettied by wildflowers and fresh new green growth. A huge carpet of ransoms caresses the woodland floor near to where snowdrops and aconites covered it a few short weeks ago. Along the verges, pink campion, blue water forget-me-nots, jack by the hedge – where the orange tip butterflies lay their eggs and white dead nettles grow. You can pull off one of the white flowers and suck the nectar from the end. It is surprisingly sweet, unless the ants and bees have beaten you to it. Elderflowers are now breaking bud. The may blossom lies thickly gracing the top of the hawthorn branches and is reminiscent of the freshly fallen snow of just a few months ago.

May Happenings

Last year, across one side of the pond we placed silver birch branches, firstly, as an aid to wildlife drinking and bathing and secondly because I had read it keeps the water fresher. On looking in the pond today for tadpoles, I saw the carefully piled branches and logs now scattered all over the pond, due no doubt to over-amorous ducks.

Yesterday a heron was standing beside the pond, but no sooner had he been spotted than he was off. Today, as I stood there I watched a spider on a log now floating in the middle of the pond. Just as I was thinking I ought to rescue him, he leapt off, and ran across the water to another log, then back on to the water and back to the first log. It was fascinating to see the tiny indentations his feet made in the meniscus of the water – just denting, but never breaking the surface tension.

We have a dandelion and daisy spangled lawn, and our greatest pleasure is watching the beautiful yellow, black and white goldfinches with their red faces. They are such a stunning looking bird and they love the dandelion seeds, as do the mallards.

The female duck comes to feed sometime acting extremely stressed. I guess she has been hassled by the stray male mallards. If we are in the garden when they fly over, she will quickly hurry toward us for protection, and if are in the lounge she will sit on the top step huddles against the patio door occasionally tapping the glass with her beak and turning her head slightly to one side, watching us. If she needs feeding she does not settle and her tapping becomes much more insistent. The quick moving squirrel really annoys her, and she only has to see him to stretch out her neck, point her beak in his direction, and hiss.

The roses are now in bud. The lilacs, berberis and apple blossom are all out. It is a good time to look out for shield bugs – they are about now, and so varied.

Magnolias and Rhododendrons

The magnolias and rhododendrons have been magnificent this year. The first to bloom was the M. Stellata Alba. Even in the dark of evening the flowers seem to shine out and look outstanding when picked out by moonlight. This was quickly followed by M. Leonard Messel, another stellata, with an obviously star-shaped flower again, but in a beautiful mid-pink as they opened, fading to almost white, which made the tree very attractive as flowers of varying shades of pink covered it. While these two were still in bloom, M. Susan flowered, larger with a deep maroon on the outside of the petals and a much paler inside, All three were outclassed when M. Soulangeana was soon in full bloom. Despite being heavily pruned from time to time, this tree never disappoints. It is breathtaking and has thousands of cup-shaped pink flowers, with every petal fading from deep, deep pink at the base to pale pink at the tip. Last, but definitely not least, is M. Ricki. It looks like a M.Stellata, but like M. Susan has much larger flowers. M. Ricki is a very attractive magnolia, each petal shading from a reddish-purple at the base to palest pink at the tip.

Of Blue Tits and Oak Leaves

There is much going on in the garden at present. For the last two days we have had a kestrel swooping down on our little feathered friends. I know the kestrel needs to eat, but I will be glad when it moves on. Yesterday I spent a worrying few hours, when I thought the kestrel had taken the tit parents. I was so relieved when I spotted the pair; beaks full, entering their little home one after the other.

I have been worried about the blue tits finding enough food for their young as they chiefly feed on the caterpillars found on the oak leaves. Apparently the timing of blue tit young are tied to the appearance of oak leaves, but this year the hatchlings came slightly before the oak leaves, however the diligent parents managed to find tiny green caterpillars on all sorts of bushes and trees in the garden, and I also saw them taking beaks full of insects back to the nest. So, no doubt, the young are feeding and growing. As for the parents, they are gorging themselves on sunflower seeds, ground up peanuts and suet.

I have noticed the new leaves on the oak trees. They are just unfurling and are an olive green, very soft, and delicately shiny. Amongst them are clusters of flowers hanging mossy yellow, green and brown in colour.

Pigeon Problems

The pigeons are having a really bad time. A couple of weeks ago I wrote about their new nest. Within a week I found that nest deserted and three broken eggs on the bank – probably squirrels again. Not daunted by their run of bad luck, No Tail and his female partner are busy building a third nest on top of the last one. Within a short time I found another two eggs broken on the bank. They have left the mahonia now and although they are building again it is higher up. I wish them the best of luck – they have tried so hard for so long.

Spring Highways and Byways

We are on our way to Reading, it is a beautiful bright sunny day, 13 degrees. The roadside verges are speckled with dandelions and daisies, and right on the road edge I saw a clump of coltsfoot with more than ten golden yellow flowers lifting their faces to the sun and bringing an instant smile to my face. Near Hertford we passed the largest area of celandines I think I have ever seen, glowing brightly in the spring sunlight. Many trees are now wearing their fresh green spring coats, along the roadsides there are lots of beautiful white blossom trees --- sloe, I think, dazzling forsythias crowd spectacularly over garden fences and here and there an early cherry blossom stands out pinkly and proudly amongst the other trees, in places the yellow flowers of gorse, shine out brightly from great big bushes of darkly green black prickly foliage. The pussy willows are big fat golden balls of pollen and the catkins dangle enticingly, waiting for the wind to catch them and blow their pollen on to the tiny red female flowers, tucked tightly against the hazel stems. Sycamores are bursting their big fat red buds and out of them are unfolding the most magical green and shiny leaves.

I feel blessed by the warmth of the sun today, as its welcome rays reach through the car window; we haven’t seen enough sun for the last few months. Someone gave me some frog and toad spawn I bore it gently and happily home splitting it between the two ponds and three very large containers, a little in each. Within days I noticed a blackbird balanced on one of the silver birch branches placed across and just under the water of the pond, these branches were placed there firstly because I read they help to keep the water fresh and secondly more were added to enable the birds to drink and bathe more easily, but this blackbird was using them to eat the frogs spawn nearby, fortunately when I checked the day before I found most of the tadpoles had already left their jelly ball homes.

There are long stretches and clumps of narcissus along the road verges, they are a joy to see. I love it when people put them on the outer edges of their boundaries and even opposite their homes; they are such a bright and welcome sight. I first did this more than 45 years ago when we moved to this area, and have kept it up whenever we have moved. I have had so much pleasure from the blooms and hope passersby have also enjoyed their yellow springtime splendour.

The willow trees are breathtakingly beautiful at the moment with their long streamers of fresh green and just showing through them is the dark shape and form of their branches and trunks. While the tall trees are still bare look out for large round clumps of hanging mistletoe dangling from the upper branches, this used to be quite a rare sight but has now become quite common and can easily be spotted at the moment. Primroses are abundant now, but keep an eye open for early cowslips just appearing, an old name for these pretty flowers is peggles.

River Walk with Kingcups

Down to the river where clouds of midges hang heavy round our heads and lay in sheets just above the water – more midges than I have ever seen before.

Daisies, dandelions, blue and white violets, narcissi and celandines prettied the riverside and in a field grew large clumps of delicate ladies smock, all the same beautiful pale pink except for one plant of pure white flowers.

Across the river cascading down the bank and growing up into the bushes alongside the path is a periwinkle, deep blue with surprisingly large flowers, further on we found another periwinkle, low-growing and creeping over the ground, still blue, but much paler and with smaller flowers, just as pretty as its larger cousin though.

At the river’s edge, we spied a clump of marsh marigolds. I have never seen them here before and hope nobody digs them up for their garden, because they look beautiful growing by the river’s edge, and it would be excellent to watch this patch of eye-catching, bright and deep golden flowers grow larger year on year.

Marsh marigolds, or kingcups as I know them, grow in damp places. They are thought to be one of the longest established British plants as they would have thrived in the meltwaters at the end of the ice-ages. They are a member of the buttercup family and have many other names: mayflower, may blobs, molly blobs, polly blobs, horse blobs, water blobs, water bubbles, Gollins and the publican, but I still think kingcups is the best name. They hold a special place in my heart because when I was a small child my father came home from work one evening, came through the back door his top half hardly visible for he was carrying the largest bunch of kingcups imaginable. They filled our hearth for what seemed like ages and I could not take my eyes off them. I saw a beautiful picture of them by Keith Edkins online.

The highlight of our walk was seeing a heron balancing on round scaffolding-like side of a bridge, watching the river for fish. We were within ten feet and he must have been aware of us, but took no notice and we stood in awe and wonder, admiring him.

Flora and Fauna of the M4

Off to Reading. The verges are more yellow than green, there are so many dandelions in flower. Dark red ornamental fruit trees have joined the white and pink ones already blooming, while more of the bare trees are covered with fresh green new leaves.

Here and there pretty pink and white apple blossom shows on trees, which have obviously sprung from apple cores tossed out of car windows.

Yellow mahonias have joined the yellow gorse.

On the A414, between Hertford and Welwyn, in a field on the right-hand side, just before the Welwyn sign post, there is an amazing row of dead oak trees standing starkly bare, aged and awe-inspiring. How did they all die at once? I would love to photograph them – they are so interesting and visually compelling.

In places, daisies replace or merge with dandelions.

Sometimes, miles from the long stretches and deliberately planted clumps of narcissi, stands a solitary one.

Verges are also prettied with bright tulips standing as tall and straight as soldiers on parade, proudly showing off their blooms.

I kept my eyes shut for miles, listening to Coldplay and the sound of the engine. When I opened them again we were on the M25, and it was to see the desecration caused by the felling for mile upon mile of the young saplings and brush. These same saplings that had been carefully planted and nurtured some years ago, now lay in piles, either as wood chips or as waiting to be chipped. I wonder how long it will be before yet more money is spent on replanting. I do not understand why this has happened.

Here and there are drifts and clumps of wildflowers: primroses, the aforementioned dandelions, daisies and cowslips (peggles). There is also a beautiful drift of blue – not deep enough, and too bright to be bluebells, also leaves wrongly-shaped – I wonder what they were?

The sky that for the last two days has been clear blue, is today showing drifts of small soft, fluffy clouds.

In a field, just before we join the M4, I saw a herd of brown and white ponies, and standing by one of them was the smallest foal I have ever seen.

On the left-hand side, as we joined the M4, we were greeted by a glittering lake, and behind it a huge steel warehouse, the sunlight reflecting brightly off its roof. While on the right-hand side a grove of very tall trees, with immense globes of mistletoe suspended from their upper branches.

In a field further along, was a string of sheep, strung out rather than in the usual flock. I enjoyed looking at them until a wooden fence blocked my view.

On the right, a field of travelers had set up home.

A steep embankment was totally covered with oil seed rape, the first time I have seen it in that quantity near the motorway.

The hedges are growing wildly, the bottom halves almost totally bare, but the top half big and bushy. Why do we not bring back hedgers and ditchers? A worthy and honourable trade – they layered the hedges, causing them to grow thickly right from the base to the top, and out ditches were kept clean, clear of weeds and properly dug out, causing a freeway for flood water, which would provide the answer to some of the water build up at very wet times. Drains and ditches kept clear would doubtless help the situation.

Passing a bluebell wood, I could just make out the faintest haze of blue – we need to return in a week or two to fully appreciate it.

Ironically, we are now passing an area where hundreds of new trees have been planted. It is an especially beautiful place as along the whole stretch wild primroses have carpeted the ground.

On the left, a field of beautiful white horses, while on the right two fields of our favourite sturdy white ponies.

Females Quack Too

The first clump of bluebells is in full bloom – English bluebells, so blue and beautifully fragrant.

I saw the heron lift off from the garden and wondered how many fish he has stolen to eat. Perhaps I do him an injustice, but he does not usually come here for my pleasure – although pleasure it is, I feel, when I watch him up close and marvel at his elegance and beauty.

I have read that only male mallard ducks quack. I would like to refute this as through the years I have many times heard a female quack – always in times of great stress. Other than that there are times such as when she is with her babies when her voice can be heard. It is a quiet, pleasant and quite musical sound.

Harrassed Duck

Today, I was lucky to see, all at the same time, a male blackcap, male blackbird and a great tit, all bathing in the pond, while a little wren perched nearby. I was also pleased to see a short-tailed field vole running around on the bank today, in the warm sunshine.

The tadpoles are interesting. I check their progress daily. I have found those living in the sunniest areas, that is with the warmest naturally heated water, are the most lively and are developing the quickest. In the two ponds, they are still at risk from predators, but in any of the other containers. So I shall find it fascinating to continue monitoring their progress.

Our poor female duck has clearly lost her first clutch of eggs. She continues to spend her days by the pond, but is dreadfully harried by stray males. Years ago, we had plenty of female mallards in the area, but now they seem to be so reduced in number that life is a constant worry for the females. No matter how hard she tries to hide, stray males enter the garden, wander about, poke their heads under bushes, seeking and usually finding her. Our female mallard becomes very distressed at being constantly harangued, often by two or three males at once, and we have, on occasion, seen five or six. If we are in the garden, she will hurry toward us for protection, and if we see from the window and go outside she stays still while we clap our hands and cause her ardent pursuers to fly away.

Pigeons

The pigeons have nested again. I was standing admiring the new buds on a low-hanging branch of an ornamental tree, when as I turned, there, right by my face, was a pigeon, sitting on her nest in the mahonia. The nest was not at all tucked away, but very visible. I must have walked and stood by it so many times without even noticing.

It was very strange; I was less than six inches from her. We stared at each other for several minutes, but she took no notice of me at all. I suppose it is because she is No Tail’s partner, and has lived in the garden, nested and bred here for some years and is very used to us. I said aloud to her: “Okay, so you’re going to be a mum again, then I’d better let you feed with all my other birds, instead of clapping my hands at you”. She took no notice, of course. Now I feed her and No Tail along with the rest of the feathered and furred friends.

A new pair of pigeons tried to nest in a tall goldenish conifer in the garden, but No Tail would have none of it. He spends quite a lot of his time chasing them from the garden, and especially from the food should they dare to approach it.

Sleeping Deer

We have been delighted to watch the deer for hours every day recently, cropping the flowers, weeds and grass indiscriminately, and pruning the apple tree to her head-stretch height.

Today, I drew the back bedroom curtains to find her on the bank, legs folded under her and fast asleep. From time to time she appeared in the garden and each time I noticed her gone went and checked, every time she was again settled in the same place on the bank. Once a pheasant was settled by her, and another time a blackbird was busily pecking and scratching for food nearby, but she took no notice of them, not they of her.

Odd Duck

Our female duck is back, the male in tow, quacking and fussing all around her. She has to have lost her first nest – maybe to the fox, because she is once again here all day long, every day.

Today, finishing off some embroidery, I heard a tap, tap, tapping on the patio door, looking up I saw our female duck sitting on the top step, stretching her neck and tapping on the glass. I waved to her and went to the kitchen, by the time I had arrived there, she was already waiting. I reached out and poured half a plastic beaker of birdseed out of the window on to the path for her. Next I fetched two slices of wholemeal bread, well water-soaked to break up and toss out to her. His majesty stands deferentially behind his wife as she eats, only snatching leftover food as he follows her to the pond, once she is satiated. He has grown very good at catching water-soaked bread pieces, which I throw to him as he patiently waits behind her.

This time I left her eating and returned to the lounge – no sooner had I sat down and picked up my embroidery than she was back on the top step, tap, tap, tapping at the window again.

She cannot have finished so much, so soon, I thought, as she continued tapping. I stood up, went into the kitchen, leaned out of the window, and there she was still tapping, while the male was finishing the food.

I called and called, but to no avail. She stayed where she was. I went back to my embroidery and easy chair, she tapped the window – I waved to her, she settled down, tucked her head round her back on her wing, and went to sleep. “Well, what was all that about?” I mused. “Perhaps she just wanted to say thank you”, said another voice from the other easy chair.

By The River

Perhaps the best part of our walk was watching the heron standing on the side of a bridge, scanning for fish. Why does one never have a camera at the right time, then another hundred times carry it and see nothing? We saw two young men in rowing boats, oars shelved, eating their meals off plates wedged on the boat bottom between their feet, using their knives and forks as if in a fine dining room. We saw them again, later, food finished, plates stowed away, each contentedly leaning back at his end of the boat, oars shelved and the boat just drifting. They looked very contented. We exchanged banter about the millions of midges.

Muntjac Feeding

I had a wonderful hour in the late afternoon watching the female muntjac deer in the garden. She was so relaxed and calm. She fed all round the pond, taking notice of the ducks nor they of her. She ignored the squirrel and although he takes a wide boundary, round the ducks, he was fearless of the muntjac, who made her way round the garden, slowly and meticulously. She ate all the new growth on the hardy geraniums, dozens of bright yellow daffodil heads, while hardly touching the snowdrops, but loved the new growth on the fatsia, rose petals and rosebuds were eaten vigorously, lower leaves from the apple tree were stripped and big fat buds on a rhododendron, were slowly snapped off and munched with obvious pleasure. She ended up feasting on the yew, which really surprised me as I thought all parts of the yew, with the exception of the soft outer part of the berry surrounding the seed, were poisonous. Eventually, she disappeared behind the greenhouse. She clearly is able to digest yew without absorbing any toxins, so suffers no adverse effects, I imagine.


The magpie continues daily to increase the size of her nest, collecting vegetation from our garden and the orchard at the end of it, also breaking off twigs from the birch tree. I have also noticed her stealing the twigs from both the pigeons’ nest and the now squashed squirrel dray.

The birch twigs are easily broken off and seem to be used by all the larger birds: crows, pigeons and magpies. Although we have jackdaws about, I have never noticed them collecting nesting material from anywhere.

At tea time, I was surprised to see nine cormorants fly over. They pass over at approximately the same time each day, but I have never seen more than six before.

Today was wet. Incessant rain fell all day and evening.

End of a Long Hard Winter

It has been a long, hard, cold winter, but at last the temperature has risen and days are noticeably less cold. Fat furry bees are beginning to buzz about, banging into windows. Down by the river, we noticed a mass of bright yellow on the south-facing bank. Further investigation showed it to be more than a dozen clumps of coltsfoot. The floods have, at last, subsided, and the river has returned to normal.

The last few days our female duck has been slipping away and searching the garden for a good nesting place. The male duck waits impatiently for her return, anxiously peering around and quietly quacking all the while. Sometimes he searches for her, wandering all over the garden, peering under bushes and overgrown areas, back and forth he wanders, but all to no avail, because he never finds her. She hides her nest well. Only once have I ever found it, and then it was the young ducklings running in and out that gave it away.

The riverside woodlands are made pretty by drifts of snowdrops and aconites. The ground underfoot is a bit mushy, but much drier than for a long time. Catkins are stretching out and yellowing up, and the rich brown, sticky buds of the horse chestnut are swelling daily. Scattered about are many hollow black shells of last autumn’s conkers – the fruit of the horse chestnut.

Although the male pheasants still companionably share the garden, this will soon change as they look for mates and rivalry sets in. I have not seen any female pheasants for the last two or three months. This is unusual because we have never before had a winter without them.

The lawns are full of moss, much to the birds’ delight. I have seen tits, thrushes and blackbirds all collecting it for their nests. The moorhen has returned to the river, we shall see him only very occasionally now, but next winter he will again take up residence with us.

Woodland Walk

Mike’s car went in for a service today, so we were up early and walked home along the river. Our eyes were drawn to a patch of south-facing bank – the wholes area covered with brightest yellow coltsfoot. The sunlight made them really shine out, causing us to stop and admire them. Later I will return with my camera to photograph them.

We walked through the woodland and were delighted to see clumps of both aconites and snowdrops. The catkins are really long and yellow now and sticky buds are swelling. Along the river bank we found hollow, black shells of last autumn’s conkers. Today, the sky is blue with fluffy white clouds. It is sunny and warm. In a sheltered spot it is very pleasant, but the wind unfortunately makes it a little too chilly to hang around.

Bluebell leaves are a few inches tall and daffodils are in thick bud. Aconites are starting to go open now, but the snowdrops still look wonderful as do the primroses. At home, I bought six primroses and left them outside while they waited to be planted, but when we went out two days later we found either the pheasant or the deer had eaten all the flower heads!

Winter Wanes

It has been a long, hard, cold winter, but at last the temperature has risen; days are noticeably warmer and nights less cold. Fat furry bees are beginning to buzz about, banging into windows. Down by the river we noticed a mass of bright yellow on the far south facing bank, further investigation showed it to be more than a dozen clumps of coltsfoot. The floods have at last subsided and the river has returned to normal. The riverside woodlands are made pretty by drifts of snowdrops and winter aconites, the ground underfoot is still a bit marshy, but much drier than for a long time. Catkins are stretching out and yellowing up, and the rich brown sticky buds of the horse chestnut are daily swelling, while scattered about are many hollow, black shells of last autumn's fruit of this same tree, their chance of growing and reproducing lost to the months spent in the river's wild winter torrents.

Although the male pheasants still companionably share the garden this will soon change, as they look for mates and rivalry sets in. I haven't seen any female pheasants for the last 2 -3 months, this is unusual as we have never before been without them. The moorhen has returned to the river, we shall only see him very occasionally now until next winter when he will again take up residency with us, unlike the ducks he never becomes tame always running away when he sees us and never approaching us for food, although happy to eat food put out for other creatures. The last few days Mrs. Duck has been slipping away from Mr. Duck and searching the garden for a good nesting place. Mr. Duck waits impatiently for her return, anxiously looking around and calling with loud quacks, sometimes he searches for her, wandering all over the garden, peering under bushes and into overgrown areas, back and forth he wanders but to no avail, as he never finds her. She hides her nest well, only once have I ever found it and that was because the ducklings, running in and out, gave it away. It was remarkably well camouflaged; I would never have found it on my own. The pigeons have lost their first clutch of eggs to the squirrels, and are now building a new nest. The magpie has built her untidy nest from twigs and vegetation high in a lleylandii overlooking the garden and it is a perfect spot for keeping her hungry eye on other nests in the area. The lawns are full of moss due to the very wet winter, much to the delight of the birds, I have seen tits, thrushes and blackbirds all collecting for their nests.

The Red Pheasant

There is a new pheasant around. He is a traditional rich red colour, not like my old faithful turquoise one, who I nurtured from a tiny brown and cream ball of fluff, running around on spindly legs and oversized feet. Ostracized by his siblings and very nervous, he learned to trust me and as he grew, stopped following his family, who continually chased him away, and he learned to live on his own. Of course, I was not to know that this turquoise wonder would turn out to be so handsome, as all through his adult phase he wore the usual young male garb of a female pheasant.


He lives in and around the garden, and the slightest view through the window of one of his human friends brings him running for a handful of food. This winter, however, he has been joined by the new, previously mentioned, pheasant. Sometimes they are together, and increasingly often, they are apart. The new rich red one is very nervous of humans, which is a good thing really, but he bullies the faithful old turquoise and the other creatures. As soon as the squirrels appear, the turquoise pheasant rushes away across the lawn as if he fears for his safety, where as the new red one stands his ground, puffs up his feathers until he is almost twice his size, holds out his wings slightly and slowly advances on the squirrels, who immediately take off. He tries these same tactics on pigeons with excellent results. In the beginning, the pigeons, who were used to the quiet turquoise pheasant retreating and leaving all the food for them, were surprised when the red one exhibited different behavior, and they tried to ignore him and snatch up all the food, however, the red pheasant had another trick up his sleeve – this one a winner. When his tactics had no effect on the pigeons, he would suddenly rush at them and peck them. Feathers would fly and so did the pigeons. They have now learned he is the new boss and they instantly give way to him.

Finally Sunshine

Driving to Reading along the A414 we see flooded fields and deeper than we have seen for a long time. The view is stunning with the bright sun reflecting off the moving water in the flooded fields. Everywhere is bright and light – it seems ages since we have seen sunshine such as this.

There are so many catkins showing with the sunlight on them. Because the winter has been so cold and so wet the trunks and branches of the leafless trees shine moss green. On the grass verge, just before the big Tesco store at Hatfield, sat a big grey rabbit in the sunshine. He was just sitting, meditatively chewing and, I imagine, enjoying the sun’s warmth.

On the edge of the M4, approaching Slough, I watched a crow or rook mobbing a red kite.

Fifty Goldfinches

The wind picked up the brown, crispy, dried winter leaves and danced across the lawn with them.

Yesterday the moorhen spent all day in our pond.

We are still experiencing days of cold with sudden snow flurries; today is no exception.

Each afternoon between 4 and 5 we are entertained by charm of goldfinches flying to and fro, back and forth, around, over and through our garden briefly settling every few minutes , then up and off again. It is a large number – upward of fifty. How good to see so many.

Now we are in the middle of a snowstorm. It is settling so thick and fast you cannot even see beyond the end of the garden into the fields beyond.

Tough Winter for the Birds

I recently read a report on the death of birds this very cold winter, especially mentioned were wrens and dunnocks, so I am very happy to note that it is rare that I don’t see both of these each time I look out of a window. We are so lucky to have not lost these particular inhabitants of our garden.

Jean told me, on the telephone, that they have lost all the blue tits visiting their garden and maybe the robin as well.

Corvid and Seagull

It is a dreary, grey, drizzly day. On the drive to Reading, we passed a stretch of road along which shrubs had been planted between trees, although leafless, this stretch was beautiful. Several trees were bedecked with hanging catkins in shades from pinkish to cream and yellow. There were bare stems of red and yellow and small trees covered in small fir cones.

I watched a large corvid and a seagull tussling with each other: chasing, wheeling, diving, swooping, swiftly turning on each other until eventually the seagull chased its large black aggressor away.

Freezing January

January remained throughout an extremely cold month with much snow, sleet and rain, freezing nights and grey days. The first sound to greet me each morning was the plaintiff trill of the robin sitting by the window, patiently waiting – some mornings impatiently as he has flown to the bird table, whilst I am still in the process of filling it. One morning I delightedly watched a covey of eight red legged partridges at the end of the garden, such pretty birds. I always feel an inner glow when I watch them, especially through binoculars and am able to pick out their fine markings. They are a striking looking bird as is the moorhen, this year only one; wandering all over the garden and helping himself to the bird food when he happens near it.

The pond has been frozen for much of January, but now it is liquid again and the moorhen spends most of his day in it. We are also visited daily by a charm of goldfinches, beautiful little birds with red faces, they are drawn to the seeds on a patch of lemon balm plants, Every summer I forget how valuable these plants are and because they seed so well, I cause most of them to be weeded out, forgetting that if I left them in, I would have much more pleasure at this time of year and the birds would certainly profit much more.

Last autumn, two new squirrels found our garden and for the first time this has happened built a drey, it is high up in the silver birch tree, almost on top of a pigeons’ nest. Today I watched the pigeons, the female settled on top of the drey and, as if taking revenge for the placement of it so near to their home, proceeded to mate, after the fourth time they flew to a nearby branch and settled down leaving the drey looking decidedly squashed. The squirrels remain a constant source of interest and pleasure, one morning I watched one eat a goodly amount, then taking the next piece of food with him, he climbed about 25 feet up a leafless tree and sitting on a bare branch ate it, afterwards stretching out along the branch, he fell fast asleep. It was a sunless day with a biting wind and the temperature below zero -- amazing he could sleep stretched out in those conditions with just his fur coat to keep him warm. We have catkins, primroses, aconites, hellebores, the beautifully perfumed viburnum bodnantense and camellias all blooming, so spring must be coming.

Winter Squirrels

Another cold day, the fields at the end of the garden are still flooded, but at least the pond had no ice on it this morning.

There are less small birds about now. I have noticed a dwindling in numbers the last week or two despite topping up the bird table all day long.

The squirrels have been very hungry also, although I realize they hide food for later. Today, I peeled and chopped up apples for the blackbirds and thrushes. Tits and robins also like these. It was interesting to watch the squirrels. They picked over the peelings and flesh, choosing to eat the cores instead. I suppose the pips contain protein amongst other nutritious things.


One little chap was very busy all morning. Finally after nearly three hours, he climbed a tree clutching a piece of food. 25 feet up on a bare branch he sat to eat it. When he had finished, he lay down along the branch and went to sleep.

Although it is not icy today, there is no sun and a bitingly cold wind, yet he slept high up in a leafless tree on a bare branch. How did he keep warm? It must be due to his thick fur coat and also other factors like his high metabolic rate.

I did some internet research and apparently studies on summer and winter squirrels show that winder squirrels have significantly lower levels of bile acids and lecithin in their liver as compared to all other groups. A difference between squirrels that hibernate and those that do not may be gall bladder contractibility. Fasting normally results in suppression of gall bladder contractibility. The studies were on American squirrels, but I suspect they would prove much the same if done on our English grey squirrels.

Moorhen in Pond

The moorhen continues to enjoy the garden, and now the ice on the pond is melting, spending much time in the water.

The Pigeons’ Revenge

Last autumn two new squirrels came to the garden, built a dray high up in the silver birch. They constructed it almost directly on top of a pigeons’ nest. Today I watched the pigeons taking revenge. They mated four times, each time right after the last, all on top of the squirrels’ dray, which has been left looking decidedly squashed and sad.

Goldfinches and Lemon Balm Seeds

We are daily visited by a charm of goldfinches. They are so pretty, and are drawn to the garden mainly because of the lemon balm seeds. Every summer, I forget how valuable these seeds are to the goldfinches, and because these plants seed so well, I pull many of them up. I do this with great satisfaction, if only I could be mindful of the value of lemon balm seeds to the goldfinches, then I would have much more pleasure during this time of year and the birds would certainly profit more.

Striking Looking Birds

Snow still thick on the ground; I watched a covey of eight red-legged partridges in the orchard at the end of our garden. They are a striking looking bird and watching them through binoculars I wished we saw them more often.

The moorhen is back in the garden, this year on its own – another striking looking bird. We are delighted every winter to see it for a few months wandering all over the garden. This year it is pecking at any long stray tufts of grass poking through the snow. It also eats the food put out for the birds.

Winter Scene

Another trip to Reading today: it is a freezing cold day with thick, heavy, white frost on the verges. Coming from Gilston on the A414 we see flooded fields turned into frosty ice rinks. Clouds of seagulls hovering low over the land.


Red berberis berries and white snow berries line the road at one point. The deciduous trees stand stark and bare the ground underneath carpeted by a thick, crisp cover of frosted white leaves. We pass a hungry heron pacing a field with frozen soil bereft of stream, and wonder what he will find to eat. Winter sunlight imperceptibly greening the frozen grass. Horses standing woodenly on white frost covered legs against bare hedges catching the warmth of weak sunbeams.

A Frosted Blackbird

It’s very cold outside, the sun comes up moon white every morning into a silvery sky, last night’s sunset was surprisingly red, so perhaps today the sun will shine and gently warm some of the creatures living outside and enduring this freezing spell of weather.

It’s 9am: the thin white sunlight brightens the snow on the lawn and in the fields, while deepening the shadows. A pair of squirrels is busy collecting food from the bird table and storing it in the woodpile, a jay sitting on the lower branch of the birch tree, watches them, as yet he has made no attempt to sabotage their winter store. My guess is that he is the one that has already been eating food straight from the bird table, and is now marking where his next meal will come from. Another squirrel is sitting fatly, his fur all puffed out, on the bird table. He has eaten his fill, stored much, and is obviously not interested in the rest of the food, other than to guard it from the birds with a view to keeping it for himself.

A skein of Canada geese just flew noisily above the garden, I love the way their calls announce their coming, making it possible to fully enjoy the sight of their flight formation. The fieldfares are here at last! Only four but such a welcome sight, yesterday I watched a solitary redwing feeding in the same overgrown but many-berried cotoneaster that feeds the fieldfares today.


Early this morning, I watched two blackbirds tussling over food on the bird table; one of them was lightly brushed with frost and must have had a very cold overnight perch. I wondered at the metabolism of birds and knew that if that was us subjected to these sub-zero temperatures we would likely have succumbed to hypothermia, but here less than fifteen inches away was this striking black and bright yellow-billed chap, perky as ever and fighting for his rights on the food table.

Happy new year, not only to you but to all my garden friends outside who give so much pleasure and ask for so little in return.