My Wild-life Garden Chapter 13. August 24th

The first sign for us that summer is nearing its end is the departure of the swifts. I do miss their shrill calls at breakfast-time, and the whir as a parent zooms into the nest hole. We also notice that it is more or less dark by nine. No more coming in from gardening at dusk to find it is 10.45. There are more reddening berries around too. The Arum maculatum, Lords-and-Ladies (Jack by the Hedge) is very spectacular, if you can be bothered to look behind the hedge.

Lords-and-Ladies

There has been so much growth recently that cutting back has become overdue. I did make a start on clearing the pond a bit. Last year I tried to do the whole thing in one go, sometime in the winter, with the result that I did my back in for days. This year the plan is “little and often”. The idea is that one dredges out superfluous growth but then leaves it where it can drain back into the water, and any displaced mini-beasts can get home.

Dredging the pond

The most numerous creature seems to be Asellus aquaticus, which is easiest described as a sort of water woodlouse. I was very pleased to find also a Caddis fly case, still inhabited. It was a beautifully neat structure, about the size of a cigarette butt, all made of evenly cut stems like tooth-brush bristles. 

I gather from my nice pond-life book that identifying precisely which species it is will be beyond me; but it seems to be some sort of Limnephilus.

While I was dredging a frog popped its head up to see what I was doing. Also I came across a magnificent spider. I identified it as Tegenaria gigantea, only to discover from the internet that it has been reclassified as Eratigena (an anagram of Tegenaria).

Eratigena, with snail for comparison

There are still lots of bees bumbling around, which is nice, and many of the flowers I have mentioned already are still doing well. I have somehow managed to bonsai the sunflowers but the nasturtiums are rampant and glowing.

Bumble-bees

I think I have said before: do not feel you have to restrict yourself to native species, but lay off the pesticides.

My Wild-life Garden Chapter 12: August 15th

Since my last post the Centaurea nigra, Common Knapweed, has bloomed abundantly. The purple theme has been developed further near the pond by the appearance of a little patch of Prunella vulgaris, Self-heal. Otherwise the colour all comes from flowers I have already written about, and probably photographed for you.

Self-heal

We have had some properly hot and sunny days, so all sorts of flying insects have been searching for nectar and pollen. Amongst them I saw three large bumble-bees, possibly Bombus lapidarius. They had that weak, struggling look, all too common with bumble-bees, crawling on the ground, up a grass stem and then falling off. I hope they managed to get some food and some sun-light, and so gathered strength.

A large, weak bumble-bee

I am still hoping for a brave show of butterflies. So far this has been the worst year for a while. I did see a solitary white the other day, and I think it was Artogeia napi, the Green-veined White, rather than Artogeia rapae, the Small White, but I am not certain.

The wild-life garden is great for children. The other day my grandson said, as soon as he came in “Can you get me a snail, please”. That was easy. He put it in a plastic cup with some earth and a leaf. In no time it emerged from its shell, and crawled around, giving a superb chance to inspect its eyes on stalks, and its mouth-parts, and its slimy trail. After twenty minutes we put it back under a plant in the shade.

A Garden Snail

We like to see the small birds, too. A pair of Parus ater, Coal Tit, have been at the feeders, and there are sparrows around again. There is the high wheezing of sea-gull chicks, and the shouting of sea-gull adults defending their territories. The best sighting, though, was a brief but unmistakable appearance by an Accipiter nisus, Sparrowhawk. It flew across at about twenty feet, banked at a right-angle and disappeared into a tree next door. I wonder if it is to blame for the half-dozen white, downy feathers that have appeared on the lawn.

Over-grown pond

I really ought to be doing more cutting back. The pond is all but inaccessible and invisible. Maybe I'll get on with it soon, but maybe I won't.

Summer days

Never forget that gardens in the summer are partly for sitting still in.

My Wild-life Garden Chapter 11: August 4th

In my last post I commented on the lack of small birds. I am glad to say that the very next day there were goldfinches of one of the bird-feeders and sparrows on the other. The following day there was one of the occasional treats: a flock of long-tailed tits passed through, inspecting the leaves of bushes for food.

It has been a wet summer there is no doubt. The rainfall in Scotland has even made the national news. Apparently it is the wettest July since I can’t remember when, and farmers’ crops, and feed for livestock, are badly affected. I have always liked John Ruskin’s saying: “There is no such thing as bad weather; only different types of good weather.” But he did not try to make his living by farming. Mind you he did have a superb garden at Brantwood. It is well worth a visit – and includes many wild patches.

Rain drops

I was expecting two more flowers to bloom as soon as we got to August, and I was not disappointed. One is Dipsacus fullonum, Wild teasel. I bought some seeds of this maybe twenty years ago and it is still appearing. It is a biennial, so you have to remember to leave some of the rather unprepossessing one-year old plants when weeding, and I find it is worth staking it in the second year, when it shoots up. The heads are loved by bees.

Teasel

So are the flowers of Centaurea nigra, Common knapweed. My plant of this just turned up one year on the edge of the long-grass meadow, and it now has a score of dark purple heads. I do hope we get some butterflies to write about before summer is over. I associate knapweed with childhood summer holidays.     

Knapweed

Perhaps that is one reason I like Campanula rotundifolia, Harebell, so much. They are still appearing all over the place – including some that have obviously self-seeded. I can all the more easily pretend I am in the country. Many of the flowers mentioned in previous blogs are still blooming, and the prolific green growth is dotted with white, red, yellow, purple and blue.

Self-seeded harebell

Summer holidays in the mountains were a time for Sorbus aucuparia, Rowan. I knew I wanted one as soon as I had the idea for a hedge and the one I bought has survived despite a poor position. But, twenty-five years old, it is starting to flourish. It now has abundant red berries.

Rowan

I would love to have photos of exotic creatures for you you. But one of the effects of a simple wild garden is to increase one's appreciation of the ordinary.

This frog in the baby-bath pond was very welcome.