Mid-Summer in the Garden

One fine morning with the kitchen window wide open, I heard the pheasant beating a tattoo with his beak on the paving stones beneath as he pecked up the seeds, on looking down I saw a jay delicately picking ants from the surface of half an orange, placed there for the butterflies. This month in addition to the usual birds we have been lucky to also watch; herons, spotted flycatchers, reed buntings, reed warblers and a kingfisher. The Muntjac deer still use the garden and keep the lower branches of an apple tree well pruned.

Within the garden are large clumps of Geranium Phaeum or Morning Geraniums as they are commonly known, the flowers are small, dark and fairly insignificant, appearing one after the other up the stem. Now the flowers are all but finished and many people cut the untidy, straggly stems back to the neat mound of leaves beneath. However if this action is resisted the reward will be great as bullfinches will visit to enjoy the seeds. These are such attractive birds with their well defined and striking markings and a great addition to any garden.


The delicately pretty wild roses are festooning the hedgerows, both field roses ---white, and dog roses--- pink. I notice a great variation in the depth of colour of the dog roses, from palest pink to a really deep shade. I wonder is this natural or because they have interbred with the field roses? Orchids spotted so far: Bee, Common Spotted and Twayblade.

Lately one of the squirrels has grown increasingly fat, she sits wide-legged and walks with a legs apart gait, she has also grown increasingly irritable with her mate, seeing him off with loud growls. When I first heard this sound I couldn't understand what it was or where it came from, but on watching from the open kitchen window I saw it was a squirrel. Each time her mate approached either her or the food she became aggressive--- growling and chasing him away, this is the first time I have heard a squirrel growling.

For two or three days I didn't notice her at all, then today she was back, patiently waiting on the windowsill. She snatched the food from my hand and sat back where she was to eat it. I put more beside her and shut the window. A jay flew down but lacked the courage to collect food while she sat by it. Her belly is no longer swollen --- indeed she looks so much thinner I hardly recognised her. I wonder how long it will be before we see her little ones.

Return of the Ducks

The ducks are well and truly back, they arrived about a month ago, they are mating manically causing tidal waves in the pond, the once sparkling crystal clear water is now a dirty greenish brown colour. The fish which so delighted us a few weeks ago are now nowhere to be seen, having gone into hiding and the brief sighting of the newt with the beautiful orange underside is clearly not going to be repeated any time soon. The tadpoles that managed in their spawn state to survive the goldfish, will no doubt have been syphoned up by the ducks.

Mrs. Duck is now becoming increasingly hungry. Today at tea-time she ate a large handful of peanuts, two of mixed bird seed, a slice and a half of bread soaked in water and on her hurried way to the pond she rushed toward a squirrel at such a rate she caused him to start and drop the half a digestive biscuit he was eating, and then as if to add insult to injury she stopped, snatched it up in her beak and carried it with her to the pond!

It is with pleasure I note that a wren has made her home inside an ancient blue tit box, tied together with string and wedged into a fork in the pear tree. Nearby on a grass verge is growing a bee orchid, my delight in finding it was unbounded, fortunately I had my camera with me and could photograph it.

The garden has many delightful Orange Tip butterflies (Anthocharis Cardomines). Adults have wings that have white uppersides and green mottled undersides. It is the males that have the beautiful striking orange tip on their wing, while the females have a blackish grey tip. The caterpillars are found on cuckoo flowers, ladies smock, jack by the hedge and honesty, although for some reason survival on the honesty is limited.

I know some people catch and kill white butterflies thinking they are all 'cabbage whites' – this is not so, and these beautiful butterflies need to be enjoyed, as the females although white will do no harm to your cabbages, etc., but being female are vital for the breeding of the next generation. To witness male orange tips and their all white partners dancing daintily through the air is a sight to lift the spirits.

A Trail of Breadcrumbs

Spring is truly here at last. The garden is magnificent, although the majority of daffodils have faded, the bluebells and honesty have taken over from them. The real joy of the garden is the beautifully blossoming trees: magnolias, camelias, and rhododendrons are wonderful, but when you add the fruit trees: apple, plum, cherry, crab apple and pear, then the sight is breathtaking. Incidentally, the tiny red fruit from the crab apple which weigh the branches down so low they touch the ground (one year we lost a third of the tree due to the excessive fruit breaking branches) are shared with the birds and squirrels. Our share we turn into crab apple liqueur, a warming drink on a cold day or a cheering one at the end of a busy one. More and more butterflies fill the air. Yesterday I saw many orange tips and a small blue. I'm pleased to report the garden is also alive with the sight and sound of bees. The fish are very active and the croaking of frogs makes a pleasant background sound. Short tailed field voles are also more active now that the weather has warmed up.

Here is a puzzle, like many people we leave windows open during the day when we are in, sometimes a squirrel or robin will venture into the kitchen and help themselves to food. The conservatory is also a favourite place for interlopers, however yesterday in the early evening I went to close the bathroom window, as I did so I noticed a small pile of bread on the windowsill (interesting because the only creature we give bread to is the fox). Next to it, on the windowsill, were a few drops of urine. I cleared them up, washed my hands, and as I left the bathroom I noticed in the bath lay an 8" long twig. Was something, probably a squirrel, planning to move in with us, I wondered? Today I kept the window pulled to.

Sunny Spring Days

Today is really warm; the garden is filled with spring flowers including hundreds of daffodils. Birds are already collecting nesting materials --watch out for tiny long-tailed tits as they search for cobwebs round the edges of windows. I have already seen both dunnocks and pigeons mating and watched robins busy with their courting ritual, note how much brighter birds colouring is now the mating season is here. Last autumn I added another three nesting boxes to the trees and bushes in the garden.

The woodpile dropped considerably during last winter, so we are topping it up from a reserve pile, which I noticed this morning appears to have blackbirds nesting in it already, I have decided to plant an evergreen clematis to grow over it, to flower at a different time to the everlasting sweetpea, clematis and honeysuckle already there. Woodpiles are invaluable in wildlife gardens as they not only give winter shelter to small creatures such as toads, hedgehogs and hibernating butterflies, but also provide a much needed breeding ground for insects. These sunny days are bringing out the bees and butterflies, so far: Whites, a beautiful Brimstone and a solitary Red Admiral -- was this a little early for the latter I wondered? This week I also heard the first frog croaking in the pond.

The pheasants continue to visit us for extra sustenance as do the garden birds, although I have noticed more territorial squabbles amongst the robins and blackbirds of late. I shall continue to feed the creatures that visit the garden, even though winter is coming to an end, as they expend a tremendous amount of energy in nest building, egg laying and chick rearing.

Heron Observations

I spent a happy half hour today watching a beautiful grey heron, for such a large bird he was so delicate in his movements. He was between the field edge and the flood water, he crept stealthily back and forth, lifting each foot in turn and bringing it slowly forward before carefully placing it in position. At times he craned forward, his neck stretched out over the water; occasionally he gently dipped into the water, shaking the drops from himself afterwards. At other times he turned his attention to the mud at the water's edge and thrust his long orange beak deep. Was he looking for worms or beetles I wondered? There were times when he stood stock still as if listening, his neck stretched as far as possible, his bill pointed upwards. His height at this point would have been about 90cm. I know herons eat fish and frogs but don't know what else. I shall have to look it up...

I did! It also eats insects, water voles and sometimes other water birds, usually young ones. I even heard tell once of one eating a young rabbit, this is only hearsay though so I don't know whether or not this is true.

Autumn and Foxes

There is an autumnal feel to the air. Bird song is much less. In fact, the robin is often the only bird to be heard during the day. He sings a thin, lonely song far removed from the robust singing of spring.

Beautiful shiny brown conkers are waiting to be collected and admired indoors for a few weeks before being put outside for the squirrels to bury and feast upon. Delicious blackberries are waiting to be gathered from the hedgerows. More will be eaten instantly than ever get home. Stained fingers reach eagerly for the next one – why do the best ones always grow out of reach? I love the leaves of blackberry plants, at this time of year, with their beautiful colours. How often we find delicate flowers still blooming, and the cobwebs hung on the plants still bespeckled with dew. These are, for me, the real treasures of life, apart from family and friends, of course.

After our disappointment earlier this year, when we lost the broods of pheasant chicks, both due to natural phenomena, imagine our surprise a few days ago when one of the female pheasants turned up looking for food with yet another baby in tow. It’s only one chick, but we were still delighted. Was it the only one to hatch? Or had she already lost all the others? We don’t know, but we were pleased to welcome this tiny new chick to our garden and hope it will grow strong and live long.
The foxes have always been welcome and in past years we have often had two – always they have been comfortable in each other’s company, and have given us much pleasure. This year, however, for the past few weeks we have been entertained by three foxes. Two of them will feed together fairly easily with one being dominant and the other submissive; she crawls on her belly and moving quickly away if turned on. Now with a third fox involved the behavior has changed. There is a lot more aggression shown. Mostly they chase each other, or quickly turn and end up pinning another fox on the ground inflicting sharp nips. In spite of this, the foxes are high spirited and always return to feed. Just occasionally full fights will erupt. They start fighting on hind legs and then end up rolling around on the ground. From the squeals and screams it is clear they are hurting each other. These fights are clearly to establish dominance. The smaller, darker submissive fox never takes part in these conflicts and is very quick to run and hide in the bushes if turned upon – maybe this one is a female, but it appears that one of the aggressive dominant ones is also a female. Interestingly, while the foxes fight with each other, the hedgehog remains calmly eating his share of the food while all this takes place around him,

Birds of my Garden

The garden is very lush at the moment and filled with flowers and their perfume is such a pleasure. Today is cool and overcast. It’s 12:35pm and already we have had visits from blackbirds, thrushes, dunnocks, blue, great, cole and long-tailed tits, robins, starlings, magpies, pigeons, wrens, bull, gold and chaffinches, one of our two pairs of mallards, and then, to my joy, the white duck flew in. By the time I had reached the kitchen window to feed her she was already underneath, head held high, beak reaching eagerly upward. Satiated she hastened to the pond for a good wash and then was off. We hadn’t seen our white friend for a few weeks, so we were particularly pleased to see her today.

My pleasure knew almost no bounds when a few minutes later a brown female mallard appeared at the patio door asking for food. On going to feed her I opened the kitchen window and to my delight found a female pheasant with her babies standing waiting to be fed. The babies were so tiny – the smallest pheasant chicks we have ever seen and not able to hurry without falling over their own feet. They must have been very recently born.

People often find it strange that I feed magpies, jackdaws and crows, but they need to eat and feed their young, and by providing food for them I hope they will not raid as many nests. Having said that they have raided both blackbird and thrush nests in the garden already this year. Although I must admit the sight of magpies in their fine attire, proudly strutting across the lawn as if they own it always makes me smile.

I am glad to report that both the thrush and blackbird have subsequently successfully bred. For those of you wondering about the 12 ducklings in our garden last month, the news is not good. The mortality rate is high and sadly all these ducklings were victims of predators. Their numbers lessened each time we saw them, and the same happened to the pheasant chicks; survival for these creatures is very difficult. Ducklings on the river are again very few this year.

This year we have seen some surprising sights. We have watched a magpie and a crow picking off ducklings and a mother duck fight with a crow – even though she had no young she flew across the lawn and attacked it. We also watched a magpie repeatedly attack a young rat, eventually picking it up and flying off with it. The young rat was very strong and put up a good fight before succumbing – it was still struggling when carried off. (Please note: we do not usually have rats in the garden, but living near the river, we do get the odd one passing through occasionally.

The Pike and the Ducklings

There’s a bend in the river, where the water runs deep
There laying and waiting is the fat pike sleeping deep
Ducklings happily bobbing on the pond
Soon these carefree antics will end
When the mother decides it’s time to grow
Down to the river to learn they all must go
If the pike is still in the river, with a crash
He’ll drag them down, leaving only a splash
Anxious mother jumps the fence with wing powered leap
Showing her little ones how under the fence they can creep
Seen it before, I’ll see it again, with heart in my mouth
I watch the rusting little ones follow her south
Across the paddock and into the field where danger lies deep
Tonight these images will disturb my sleep
With motherly movements and tender quacking
Slowly she shepherds her treasured ducklings
She guides them on through rough grass and bramble
Guards them as they hasten and tumble
The river is near
Is the pike waiting?
If only she’d taken the path to the lane
Maybe tomorrow I’d see all her babies again
But even there lies danger, of cars hurtling past
Uncaring, unseeing, and much too fast
A swift drop over the bridge to the water
The current drives them forward to their slaughter
But, this year, there’s hope in my heart
If the mink ate the pike they’ll have a good start

Wimpole Hall in Royston

The day of our visit to Wimpole Hall was grey and overcast, with a chill wind, but we were well wrapped up and it was delightful to see our countryside in spring. We came upon fields of cowslips nodding their pretty heads and braving the cold winds. There were two lonely birds on a lake: one an attractive grebe, and the other a beautiful white swan. Each kept its own company of silent reflection. We were admiring banks of primroses leading down to the lake when we noticed a heron nearby, who suddenly rose from the water’s edge and came to rest not more than twenty feet away in a field full of sheep and their lambs. We walked through this field with the little lambs racing and chasing, jumping and climbing on to fallen trees – it was magical.

The staccato sound of a woodpecker drumming high in a tree caused us to pause, lift our heads and search for him in vain. High on a hill, on the edge of a field, we came across the remains of a hare: bones bleached and weathered jutting out from the last remnants of fur. This caused me to wonder if there were no foxes in the area, for surely the hare’s remains would have been carried off, and if not foxes, were there no carrion crows in these parts?

We turned toward the car and then headed for home through the lanes or minor roads across the beautiful Hertfordshire countryside. The first thing we saw was a bird of prey, strong wings silently slicing the air as he searched the field below for prey. Across the road a seemingly small blackbird sat in the fork of a leafless oak tree, as if seeking shelter from the cold northerly wind.

The roadside verges were prettily peppered with bluebells, coltsfoot, dandelion, daisies, primroses and cowslips. Two pheasants lay on the roadside, probably struck by cars, and countless live ones flocking the fields and verges. A ford glistened over the road topped by a lone wading moorhen, while up on a slope were two dozen mallards dozing, heads tucked snugly under their wings.

We passed a rookery full of noisy cawing birds and two badgers still and in their final sleep. I wondered if they were a pair.

Between Standon and Much Hadham we chanced on two muntjac deer cropping the roadside verge.

It was a beautiful ride home. So many trees with their pretty fresh green frocks on to welcome spring, quintessentially English views of fields broken by mile upon mile of hedgerows, woodlands, rolling hills and, in a dip, a village marked only by roofs, chimney stacks and a church spire. All the while, the birds chorused overhead.