My Wild-life Garden Chapter 28: April 19th

What a difference one warm sunny day makes! Today I sat in the garden for lunch and saw, in the space of two minutes: a swarm of gnats dancing (please do not ask me what variety); a big hover-fly hovering (once again precise identification is beyond me); and three peacock butterflies - two in a mating dance and one single. These butterflies (Inachis io) hibernate over the winter and emerge to breed once the spring warms up. All those crevices in walls and gaps between the planks of a shed are serving a purpose. Lots of insects use them.

In my last entry, Chapter 27, I put "Ash" as the caption for a photo of a Sycamore (Acer pseudoplatanus) bud. I have now made a correction. I wonder if there were no comments because nobody noticed or because you all thought "Stupid old fool. Nice photos anyhow". Ash (Fraxinus excelsior) is usually fairly late in bursting into leaf.

One bizarre appearance this year has been a chestnut seedling.

Was it a grandchild or a squirrel that brought the conker here?

In the pond there has been a good hatch of tadpoles. The fact that next door is a bit of a building site has its advantages. I fancy it keeps some large predators away. The exception is many cats from the neighbourhood. I do not understand why they are permitted to hunt my wild birds, trample on my seed-beds and dig up my new plants. If they were dogs I could prosecute the owners. But the tadpoles, at least, are safe.

New tadpoles

Another sign of spring in this street is that gulls look for nest-sites on the roof. Later on they even swoop down on passers-by, let alone roofers mending gutters. A few years ago the odd numbers hired a falconer to roam the roof-tree and scare them off. We even-numbered houses, who rather like birds, had a free show. I'm not sure it has made much difference.

The gulls have arrived

Lots of plants are growing, of course. Do not expect photos till they flower, and do not expect anything too dramatic.

Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)

When you find yourself thinking "Look at my beautiful dandelions," you may call yourself a real wild gardener.