Walk Along the Canal Towpath

November, late in the year, but the warm sun has brought out the bees. They are busily buzzing around the nectar-rich ivy blooms held proudly out from the rich green foliage draping riverside trees and bushes.

My favourite river side tree is the alder. They are so delicate and their reflections steal my heart each time we walk along by the river. At this time of year they are leafless, but their branches are prettily displaying bunches of tiny cones and catkins, still tightly closed waiting out the winter for the promise of spring.

As we neared Parndon Mill we saw a lovely goat in his paddock. Had the sheep gone off to market we wondered as we walked past the lock and headed into the sun. The water sparkled and the geese at the mill shone brightly white in the sunshine. The donkey brayed loudly and made us laugh at his whimsical sound.

We saw very few birds: one mallard, one blackbird, a lone redwing. We used to have huge flocks here at this time of year, but not anymore. We heard the silver song of the robin and the call of a little owl, but no kingfishers, which was disappointing.

As we neared the lock, we saw the boar at his gate. He had heard us coming and with his teeth he caught the metal bar and pushed the gate back and forth. I usually give him my apple core, but I today I didn’t have one for him. So I collected some leafy branches of hawthorn and was lucky enough to find some covered with sloe berries, which I fed to him.


Leaving the Mill and lock behind we continued our walk along the canal towpath. We spotted some tiny saddleback piglets and their mother working their way down the field toward the gate, probably knowing feeding time was approaching. They were delightful to watch.

Walking along we noticed, on the far bank, that each fence post was marked with a hazel bush of bright golden leaves. The hawthorns were very old with twisted, crisscross branches and entwined spikes and covered in berries that glistened in the sun like baubles on a lighted Christmas tree. Some trees still held leaves of green while others were festooned in orange, red and browns, even others were totally bare. We saw a partially pollarded willow, almost bereft of leaves, but strong new 12 foot rising from the trunk covered in blue-green leaves – what a contrast!

Large bramble leaves in beautiful autumn colours crept over the bank. There were streamers of bright red rose hips shining in the sun hung suspended from branches where months before they had delighted us with their badges of dog field roses.

The fungi alongside the towpath grew in clumps and were the classic domed toadstool shape though I was unsure of its genus. We made a note of eight clumps of mistletoe that we would return to harvest in December for our Christmas decorations.

Misty Mornings and Birds

From my kitchen window I can see a cotoneaster its boughs heavily laden with berries, shiningly colorful, and brightly glistening in the rain, good autumn food for birds. Across the lawn a robin and a blue tit vie for the last apple hanging from the tree, and a malus is filled with a flock of pigeons, whereas other years it has been the territory of blackbirds, thrushes, redwing and fieldfare, sadly this year we haven't seen even one redwing or fieldfare.

Hanging from a lower bough is an overwintering insect box, I hung it with a happy smile in the summer, thinking of how it would provide protection for hibernating insects. Interestingly it has proved very successful as a feeding station, especially for the great tits who are delighted with the easy pickings it provides.

Misty mornings now, and drifts of mist hang low over the fields that border the river, the tiny misty droplets highlighting and jewel bedecking the myriad cobwebs, draped over or hanging from bushes and plants. Watch out for an influx of spiders indoors, sheltering from the coming cold winter. Now is a good time to go fungi foraging, there are many and varied types to be found, all shapes and sizes, I once found a navy blue one growing under a yew tree.

Today through the lounge window I watched a heron take off, flying low over the lawn and upward through the branches of our trees. I have very mixed feelings about herons because they empty the pond, but I do love to watch them and I am always awestruck when I see them in flight. Today he didn't fly very far, just across the paddock and into the field where he spent the afternoon silently stalking by the river's edge.

Later on I saw a tiny restless goldcrest who spent several minutes flying repeatedly between a bird bath and a conifer. At just 3.5 inches long the goldcrest is Britain's smallest bird and is a joy to see with its vivid bright yellow streak along the top of its head.

Now is a good time to clear out and clean nesting boxes and before replacing them put in a handful of dried leaves to help out overwintering creatures.

Walk Along Brimming Canal

We have had a very wet several days and the fields at the back of the garden are flooded again. So we knew the river would be high, making the sights and sounds of our usual walk a little different.

Weirs usually dry are now overflowing with rushing, crashing, foamy water. One weir ran through a concrete tunnel connecting it to the river. We stood above the tunnel in awe of the roar of the water underneath the bridge, and the spray that shot high into the air.

During the course of our walk we saw only one fresh mole hill. I imagined the little creature with his warm furry coat poking his head out and quickly drawing back as the wind hit his little snout.

We met a red-faced fisherman sitting huddled on the bank. He told us he had caught but one small roach. On our return, later, he had caught another half a dozen including a 15” bream. He didn’t like killing them, so he’d thrown all of them back in.

The wind was strong and cold; it made one’s eyes water. The sun shone out highlighting the foliage with its golds, oranges, reds and browns – a truly beautiful autumn day. We were well wrapped up and determined to enjoy our walk, but no matter how quickly we moved to stay warm, our ears became cold as did our arms and gloved hands.

We were amused by the sight of swans swimming along with ducks and Canada geese on flooded fields that a day earlier had been lush green meadows.

We came to a weir that was usually dry and were enchanted by a magic carpet of leaves of all shapes, sizes and colors drawn toward the weir. We watched spellbound, then placed bets on which clump of leaves would first escape the current of the weir and float off downstream.

A Noise in the Night

The beech woods I wrote about last month are the setting for this piece, also the tale I am about to recount is absolutely true.

In the middle of a dark and moonless night my grandson was roused from sleep by the frightened and frightening cries of a creature, he was tired after a long day and had work to go to in a few hours so he tucked down and tried to ignore the sound. After several unsuccessful attempts he decided to investigate, leaving his bed he pulled on jeans and tee shirt picked up his mobile and set off. The calls were already becoming more urgent, and the woods were very dark and not the friendly place he usually frequented. He followed the direction of the sound and could hear the fear in it, he found this very unsettling and at one point was fearful as to what he was going to find. The unfamiliarity of going through the woods at night coupled with the distressed and distressing calls had quite unnerved him especially as he had no self protection should he need it, briefly he faltered but the calls were so near now he went on. He even wondered if it was a young child and knew then he couldn't stop. It was not only dark he was cold and the tree roots tripped him often, eventually he climbed up from a steep drop and as he reached the brow he heard a different sound, switching on his mobile phone he had enough light to see facing him and close enough to touch at his eye level a fully grown badger instinctively he stood tall, held his arms out and shouted. The badger stepped back a few paces and then stood its ground off to one side he could still hear the desperate cries of a creature in trouble, carefully he sidestepped away from the adult badger and made his way to the sound, it was coming from a lidless culvert. Using the light on his phone he looked down and found a young badger cub up to its neck in mud and at a good arms stretch, he was very slimy and smelly and almost impossible to grasp. After several attempts Ric managed to hold him by the neck and draw him upward, where he could use the other hand to support the youngster. When finally out, the cub rubbed himself on the ground, then made his way to his mother who had been waiting close by, obviously pleased to see her cub she nuzzled him before setting off through the woods with him.

Ric said he felt very privileged to have rescued the little chap he also said he was astonished at how heavy the cub was, how solid he felt and how coarse was his fur, he was also surprised at how the adult had waited so patiently while her cub was rescued displaying no fear or aggression. Did the adult realise she needed help which Ric could give her? Is this why she waited and watched so patiently?
Ric went back the next day and covered the hole to avoid any future mishaps.

A Beechwood Walk

Recently we visited our grandson who lives in the Chilterns, after lunch we crossed the lane he lives in, and entered the woodlands opposite. Following a narrow path through the perimeter bushes we found the dense undergrowth gave way to the typical spaces of an ancient beechwood. The floor was thickly carpeted with a top layer of freshly fallen orangey brown autumn leaves, joyfully crisp to walk on. Smooth grey green beech trunks stretched far above us, holding lightly leaved branches aloft and outward, extending themselves into a fine tracery of twigs, silhouetted against the blue sky. Here and there sunlight filtered prettily down through the branches and where it lit and warmed the woodland floor would be a patch of nettles, freshly green and tall, leaning and reaching toward the sunlight. Toadstools often nibbled at the edges were many and varied, as was lichen. Branches and even trees lay where they had fallen; sprouting both funghi and lichen, in other places dead trees remained standing, with bracket funghi growing up the entire length of the trunk. I was entranced by both the colours and patterns of the funghi and lichen. Traditionally ancient beech woodlands are often home to truffles and I wondered if any were growing there.

Under the crisp topping of leaves was a thick humous rich layer inhabited by many different insects, I would like to have gone beetle hunting but time didn't allow. This wood must be home to so many small mammals as well as larger ones we were shown the biggest badger sett I have ever seen and my grandson and his fiancee feel priviledged to have watched badgers, who just seem oblivious to their presence. These woodlands are also home to a large herd of Muntjac deer, which also wander through my grandson's garden.

Beech mast littered the floor, and occasionally we came across hazel trees, with a scattering of nuts and empty shells underneath. Here we saw evidence of the resident rodent population --- it was interesting to see the different ways the shells had been opened, some split in half, perhaps by squirrels, others with large holes in the bottom half of one side and yet more with tiny round neat holes --- mice and voles maybe.

Our woodland wander was wonderful and enhanced by the accompaniment of my grandson’s four cats, who daily go for a walk with him. They were delightful never venturing far from us, either walking in single file behind or three of them chasing each other round and about, back and forth or up and down trees. The fourth cat is an old gentleman of 15 years, pure white and still quite spritely, although he no longer rough and tumbles or climbs trees.

Old woodlands such as these are magical places and we are so fortunate to be able to enjoy them. The woodland I described here reminded me of High Beech woodlands, not too far from where we all live.

Disappearing Squirrels

We have had quite a few noteworthy events during the past two months, the first was when we were checking the drains and on lifting an inspection cover found a tablespoon-sized toad quite happily sitting there. He was relocated to the pond area. Another which stands out but this time for its comparative value was while clearing the undergrowth from an apple tree we found an enormous toad, darkly brown and lumpy we stopped clearing and went to sit by the pond there we were delighted to see an eft he was so tiny but perfect he had such delicate little hands and arms and was such a contrast to the old toad, but we were quite charmed by them both.

Thrushes have managed to rear a brood successfully there are so many predators in the garden to steal their eggs or young -- jays, magpies, crows and squirrels spring to mind, this morning I looked out of the end kitchen window and saw blue and great tits, 3 wrens, a chaffinch, pigeons, blackbirds, thrushes, a white throat and a flock of long-tailed tits. Pheasants continue to visit, but the creatures who have consistently afforded us the most pleasure and amusement are the grey squirrels, sadly I now have to report we have none. A few weeks ago we were enjoying both the adults and their young, we fed them as usual in the morning and although it seemed a little odd when we didn't see them the rest of the day we weren't unduly worried, but the next day none appeared which set alarm bells ringing, the day wore on and still none came and the same every following day. I am mystified. I have no answer. I can only wonder. One missing squirrel I could think, maybe a passing car, fox, cat or even a bird of prey, but all of them -- could they have succumbed to an infectious disease.

Butterflies have been in colourful abundance this spring and summer and the garden has hummed to the tune of hundreds of bees of many types -- and now a few wasps are appearing. We arrived home one evening to find a huge swarm of angry hornets buzzing around the outside light, we used the back entrance and turned off the light, the swarm dispersed and thankfully although we've seen the odd one or two, we haven't seen a worrying number. Hornets are not naturally aggressive, I read, however their size is enough to make me shudder! The fruit trees are heavy with their welcome crop, which as yet although unripe is being eaten in situ by the tits and blackbirds. Hips and haws hang heavy this year as do the elderberries, reminding us that golden autumn is on its way with its shorter days and misty mornings.

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.