One year in the wildlife garden

 I posted the first in this series of blog-posts exactly twelve months ago. (There are earlier posts in the blog referring to our old garden before we moved.) In that time I have put up 26 posts, many of them illustrated with not-very-good photos. I do not think they record anything spectacular. The main point was to show that gardening for "ordinary" wildlife can be most enjoyable. 

This series of posts was inspired by a TV programme. It was "The Wild Gardener" by Colin Stafford-Johnson and included the splendid sentence: "Anyone who's got a little bit of land can make the land better for nature," I like to think that if we all made an effort the decline in species might be reversed.

When I was talking about habitats I mentioned my effort to grow a thicket of ivy, an excellent wild-life plant. Well it is making slow progress. Perhaps one day we will have nesting sites and berries.

The theory is that it will never be allowed to grow beyond the trellis; time will tell if I manage to keep it under control.

Part of the advice from all sides it not to be too tidy. Many invertebrates, most of whose names I don't know, spend the winter in seed heads, hollow stems and other such spots. I expect you are like us and simply have to do a bit of tidying and cutting back, otherwise the amount needed is overwhelming in the spring. But we try and leave some - like this sunflower.

 If you provide enough "real" habitats you probably do not need artificial ones. But gardening surely ought to be fun. I have no idea what insects or other mini-beasts might like to spend the winter in here, spiders for sure, but it was entertaining to make. I am sure it could have been made better.

It may be that I do not continue this blog for the moment. There may not be anything new or exciting to say. If there is, of course, expect to hear about it.  Here, as Christmas approaches, is some holly.

Winter comes

 Last week I went out in the morning to find a little ice on the pond for the first time this winter. The season is moving on, although we have had an unusually mild November. Because the pond is so small it is not hard to keep removing leaves as they appear. A few are all right, but too many are best avoided.

I have mentioned the small log-pile before. There is no space for anything ambitious. But look what is decorating it now! 

I have found fungi very hard to identify, but I hope I track this one down. Later searches suggest it is the Many-zoned polypore, Coriolus versicolor. Apparently it is very common but it is decorative.

Another aspect of winter in my town garden is that the bird visitors have changed slightly. The other day I saw the first blackbird I have noticed since April. There are no goldfinches or starlings just now. The chittering fledglings, squabbling over the feeders and emptying them in a day or two, departed in early June. But a robin is now a frequent caller. Every day I scatter a few fat-sprinkles for the ground-feeders and two or three magpies soon appear. Perhaps they deter small birds. A woodpigeon is also regular again, after a summer off. Coal tits are often seen on the feeders; they are very attractive. My own favourite is a dunnock. They are so modest I suppose one may have been pottering about unnoticed for months; but now it is often seen, neat and unassuming as it forages beneath the shrubs.

The bright colour in the garden just now is the holly berries. They still catch the sun, even though much of the garden is now shaded all day. 

Pond clearance in the back end

 I mentioned in early spring that I did not want my pond to become a swamp. Well, despite the March clearance, the whole thing had become overgrown with Water mint and Forget-me-not. While they were flowering, and attracting pollinators, it seemed a pity to remove them. But today was the day - fortunately before the water became untouchably cold. Some were left, of course.

I sluiced each extracted plant in some water in the hope of rescuing creeping things. This had at least some success, as shown here.

Snails saved from the dredging

What I had not expected was how much moss and mud had spread out over the water surface. Removing some of that was more work than I had bargained for. But if a pond is not going to become gradually silted up to the point of disappearance (this happens to natural ponds) some dredging is needed. As a gardener I can choose what to do up to a point, and gazing into the water is part of the pleasure. Perhaps next spring I will be able to.

Before

After 

Mellow Fruitfulness

 Proof that it is definitely autumn is the appearance of a delicate toadstool on the lawn.

At the same time all sorts of hips and berries are turning bright red, keeping colour going even though many flowers are fading.

Different birds seem to like different berries. There was a time, in a previous garden, where greenfinches used to gorge on the rose hips. The best we can do is provide food and see what does or does not turn up. Our pears are very popular with foxes, which certainly pick off what they can reach, night after night. This reinforces the message not to use pesticides. I have this year put a barrier of netting round the small plum tree, which seems to have worked. Last year small branches were broken off!

I have recently finished digging over a small patch of lawn to make a flower bed. I was very pleased to discover plenty of centipedes. On the relevant RHS web page one of the first things it says is: "Part of a healthy garden eco-system". Their main food is the sort of bugs that eat your plants. 

The bird-life in the garden is moving on away from the spring and summer pattern. In that last week I have seen the first robin and the first coal tit noticed since April. There's lots to see if you look. Meanwhile I am not sure if the baby frogs have left the pond and immediately found excellent hiding places; I hope so. 

Late Summer

 The most obvious feature of late summer is the ripening of fruits. Gardening books have advice on how to deal with pests and diseases. I have yet to read one that advises how to dissuade a fox from taking pears and plums, usually then scattering them around with one bite taken out. However, there are still plenty of pears and plums for us. In the explicitly wild bit of the garden the brambles that have turned up behind the pond have fruited excellently this year.

There have been many more than are in this photo, but grandchildren are even more rapacious than foxes.

I did not plan to make a hedge, but the bank of earth dug while excavating the pond has become one. Two wild roses (bought), this bramble, and a raspberry (just turned up) are flourishing so much that they need cutting back. This is a happy reminder of hedging along a country lane in my childhood. Some of the not-native plants have good berries too, already. I have known this cotoneaster stripped by woodpigeons in previous years. 

So long as you never use pesticides, many non-native plants will add to the wildlife resources of a garden.

The tadpoles in our pond have not yet emerged as baby frogs. They can't be hurried. At least I am sure that they have plenty of places to hide once they do emerge. If last year's hatching is anything to go by, some of them will find our garden a place to live. 

One hazard they encounter is neighbourhood cats. One of these creatures amuses itself by touching frogs from behind and making them jump.

The small birds seem to be reluctant to go to the feeders just now - maybe it is moulting time, when they try to stay under cover. But I did happen to see a flock of long-tailed tits pass through the area; always welcome. As far as I can see they roam around, never staying in one garden for long.

Some of the flowers in the "wild" section are inspired by things I love to see on holidays. These scabious I grew from seed after coming back from Wester Ross a couple of years ago. Bumble bees seem to like them, and it is important to keep fresh blooms, with nectar and pollen, going all though the spring and summer months. (Apologies for the poor photo)

Possibly in terms of helping wild nature and biodiversity the invertebrate mini-beasts are as important as anything. There is no shortage of habitats. Our insect house may or may not house a mason bee or two in any given year, but I lifted the lid the other day and look what was sheltering there. 

There is no limit to the fun you can get from a wild-life garden.

High summer

 The last day of July. After some fairly strenuous gardening (not in the "wild" garden patch) I sat peacefully in what the poet calls "a bee-loud glade". There were at least three varieties of bumblebee - possibly four or five. But I do not claim skill at identification. Some were on the knapweed in the wild patch. Some were on the sunflowers. There were several popular plants. I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again - never use insecticide.

A few days ago we were away for a fortnight, Our Edinburgh heatwave was much less severe than many places, but still I wondered what I might find when I came back. None of the plants looked much the worse, but the pond was nearly empty. I used all the available tubs of water to refill it as much as possible, and the next day I breather a sigh of relief when I saw a tadpole wriggling. I wonder how many baby frogs will eventually crawl out. Meanwhile quite a few adults take advantage of our water features on these hot days.

The pond plants for summer are doing well. There is far too much water mint. But the single plant of purple loosestrife is magnificent - and popular with bees.

Some of my plant photos are not worth posting. There is a good show of heath bedstraw and some attractive cornflower from the wildflower annual seed packet. One of the best has just turned up - officially a "weed" in many places. here it is.

Ragwort

Some pond-life

The little pond is getting seriously overgrown with forget-me-nots and with mint, even though I though I had thinned them out pretty thoroughly in March. One learns from experience. Next year....

However, I did manage to do a little pond-dipping this afternoon and photographed the results.

There are lots of these snails. I imported a few to keep the algae down, and they have multiplied many-fold. They are also keeping the algae down very well. The other day a pond-dip pulled out a little pod of their eggs - a blob of jelly about the size of a swallowable capsule pill. Under a microscope I was surprised to see that the tiny dots were not in fact eggs, but miniature snails - as far as I could tell. Here's an adult.

I was surprised to find a different sort of snail, with a spiral shell.

There were also lots of water fleas - daphnia. They are the little orange creatures, swimming about. They are very prolific and, I think, help provide food for the tadpoles.

Finally, on this brief look, there were some flatworms. I'm not sure how big they grow. At the moment they are small.

I have no certain knowledge about how any of these, except the first sort of snail, got into the pond. Presumably they were in the roots of some of the plants that were purchased. A good idea with a larger pond is to bring in some pond mud, and maybe some weed, from some wild pond. My stretch of water is so small that I decided not to overcrowd it. 

One other observation today was a big ants nest. I lifted a couple of flagstones as part of some reorganisation, and this is what I found. 

 You can see a cluster of eggs, and also a lot of young ants growing wings, almost ready to fly off in the sort of cloud that can spatter car windscreens. The speed with which the workers bundled the eggs and the immature wingy ants underground was wonderful to watch. All the wild life in the garden is wonderful to watch. At this time of year there is masses to see.

Mid-summer

 The garden is ablaze with flowers - not all of them native. But this blog is about the native ones. The thyme in the rockery is suddenly in full flower. It is very attractive to pollinators.

So is the birdsfoot trefoil. 

The attempt to set up a miniature meadow, 2metres by 1 metre, has this year turned into more grasses with beautiful heads than flowers. However the ox-eye daisies have spread to the neighbouring flower bed, so vigorously that some of them have had to be weeded out. 

The goldfinches, perhaps the prettiest things in the garden, refuse to eat anything but sunflower hearts. Now that the shop has run out they have moved away for the moment. Our regulars - magpies, woodpigeons and sparrows - keep coming. Also we undoubtedly have a young family of starlings (there were none at all over the winter). On the other hand whereas we did have a pair of blackbirds over the winter we now have none at all. Perhaps their nest has been raided. Local predators include the magpies, a sparrow hawk, urban foxes and one or two cats. We have a high-powered water pistol to discourage cats, but it brings only the briefest respite.

One thing I hope the birds like, or will like as it grows, is the shrubs behind the pond. I did not call it a hedge, for it is so short, but it is getting a bit like one. The two sorts of wild rose have to be cut back.

Their flowers blew off yesterday, but we can expect lots of rose-hips soon. The brambles and the raspberries have just turned up, but they are very welcome, by bees as well as by us.

At the moment these plants seem to provide a lurking place for those cats I would like rid of. But such is normal life for the wildlife gardener.

365 Days Wild

 This is June, the month of 30 days Wild. What an excellent project that is. I am trying to identify a different invertebrate every day. So far I have exposed my hopeless inability to identify bumblebees - they won't stay still - and the utter impossibility of identifying the clouds of small flies passing up and down over a small stretch of the Water of Leith. I did triumphantly count two spots on a ladybird.

Meanwhile in the garden wild flowers are staring to blossom. So are non-native flowers, and they can be an important part of a wildlife habitat too, but they are not the subject of this blog. As soon as I established the little pond I bought some Water forgetmenots, Myosotis scorpioides.

I also bought some Water avens, Geum rivale. They, interestingly, have moved a little from where I planted them and are flourishing all the better for it.

Most interesting is a Ragged robin, Lychnis flos-cuculi. (Apologies for the poor photo.) This has turned up where none was sown or planted. I think it must have self seeded from one which I did have at the other end of the pond, where it was crowded out; and so I have moved it to another water feature (known as the ditch) which is not wilded. 

They are a plant I particularly like, I think from associations with childhood - one of the flowers my mum showed me.

Another of those flowers is the Welsh poppy, Meconopsis cambrica. This has grown freely in the garden since before we bought the house. They grow prolifically as a weed - may well be a "garden escape" - and are removed ruthlessly from the rose beds.. But they are worth a place in any uncultivated corner.

One of the great pleasures of June, and of retirement, is sitting in the sun in the garden enjoying the flowers. If some of them are reminders of happy days in the country, that is surely a bonus.

World Bee Day

 If you are reading these posts you probably do not need me to tell you how important bees are. The main thing is not the production of honey (I like it; I've just had some for lunch) but the work of pollination. Perhaps just as important is the whole ethical objection to the extinction of species. As John Donne famously said: "Every man's death diminishes me". His wise words can readily be extended to all life on earth.

What can we small gardeners do, managing a plot the size of half a tennis court or less? The answer is "A very great deal", for all our half tennis courts in one city add up to hundreds of acres, and across the world to an incalculably vast estate. 

Two years ago, when we were confined to our homes by lockdown (and Partygate was raging) I made a determined effort to identify the bumblebee that came into our garden. This was the result:

The feeble inadequacy of the research speaks for itself. but at least I was led to appreciate better the range of bumblebees that use our garden. I do take comfort from two things. One is that my "Collins Guide to Insects" says: " the identification of all castes is complicated by marked regional colour variations". The other is that, after I had rejected Bombus hypnoroum on the grounds that it did not come nearly as far north as Edinburgh, my daughter (who used to work for Buglife) said "Oh, their range has extended northwards". So if, like me, you have trouble with identification, just enjoy looking at the bees, and marvelling at their variety, beauty and industry.

One thing you can do for bees is get one of those insect houses. Here is mine.

You can see how some of the holes are plugged with mud. This will probably where Osmia rufa, the mason bee ("there are many similar species" says my book), has laid eggs. This one has got rather overgrown, so I have had a go at making one. It has so far been less successful for bees, though I hope various invertebrates may have found other uses for it. Remember that bumblebees hibernate, so holes of all sorts - in walls, or log-piles or moss - may be useful to them. And there are lots of bees apart from bumble bees.

The most important single thing all small gardeners can do is never use pesticides. We don't need to. Of course, it is irritating when a seedlings is eaten off by snails, or slugs take a bite out of a lettuce leaf. But try encouraging frogs, insect-eating birds, hover flies and so on. A balance will soon be established - and part of the balance is that you put up with a few holes in your crops. 

The other thing, of course, is to have plenty of flowers for bees to feed from. Yesterday in the hot sun (not today) I saw a dozen small bumble bees getting at the raspberry flowers very early, before the flowers were properly out. They were so small I wondered if they were a different species from the big queens that emerged from hibernation towards the end of March. But that useful insect book explains: "Some early spring workers are very small and it is hard to believe that they belong to the same species as the queens." I love it when a book by an expert fits my own observations.

I have already mentioned the annual wild flower seeds we give out (my organisation, as a matter of fact) we give out at our church. This year's sowing are not nearly flowering yet. But one feature of these seeds (Scotia Seeds "Cornfield Annual Mix) is that they readily self-seed. This row in front of our house is in an ideal spot and never sown by human hand. And look, they are in flower already, food for bees long before this year's sowings are available.

Foxes and Fledglings

 One pleasant feature of the way our house is set up is that while working at the kitchen sink you can look out over the garden. Birds bathing is always fun to see. A couple of days ago, while I was washing up, a large fox ( a vixen, I think) was sitting on the patch of flagstones calmly scratching. She didn't seem at all bothered by being in a town garden in broad daylight. Of course urban foxes have now become so common that they are not news, but this was certainly an attractive animal.

A few minutes later, during the same bout of washing up, I noticed something moving under some shrubs. I stopped work and got the binoculars on it (they lie ready in the kitchen). It was clearly a young bird, It seemed to be more fluff than feathers, so I wondered how it could have got in without flying; I'm pretty sure there is no nest on our side of the fence. From its size I guessed blackbird or possibly starling. Thanks to Google and You Tube I was able to establish that it was definitely a blackbird. I was surprised that no parent came to warn it about the fox, feed it, or otherwise indulge in avian parenting. Eventually it jumped up into the shrubs and I lost sight of it.

At the feeders the birds are very picky. I have one of those candelabra jobs, with four hanging squirrel-proof feeders; fat balls, general bird seed, nyjer (there seem to be innumerable spellings of this stuff) seed for goldfinches, and sunflower hearts. Until recently only the sunflower hearts were eaten, mostly by goldfinches. The fat balls were completely ignored, even though some starlings have reappeared with the spring. The nyjer seed is untouched. The basic bird seed mix in its special new feeder seemed a waste of money. Well, the sunflower hearts have run out and so sparrows have turned to the good old seed mix and the goldfinches have given us up. Our local Sainsbury's has been out of sunflower hearts for well over a week. Another casualty of Brexit, I suppose. The expensive nyjer seed sits, waiting for custom.

I do scatter fatty nibbles and mealworms every morning for the ground feeders. Two or three magpies usually get there first, and frighten off all comers. Sparrows twitter as soon as I come out of the garden door, and four wood pigeons often look in. I especially like the dunnock, which hops unobtrusively below the foliage. Most unexpected, and new this year, has been two large black crows. I thought large birds didn't alight in small gardens because they feel confined by the fences. There's always something interesting to see while washing up.

One of the great glories of the countryside in May is the bluebells. No way can I, or you, recreate a bluebell wood in a small town garden, but I couldn't resist installing a few.

It is nowhere near a bluebell wood, but it reminds me of many favourite places. The colours are a rich, vibrant blue. It is worth making sure you buy our native bluebells, rather than the common Spanish bluebell. They hybridise easily, and the result is paler and less attractive plants.

In a recent post I reminded you to search always for peat-free compost. I am delighted to say that when I went into Sainsbury's the other day in search of sunflower hearts, there were stacks of bags of peat-free composts of various grades. Not all the news is bad. 

King cup time

 I explained in the last post that I cannot claim green fingers. However, some of the plants I put in do succeed and become established.

This is one of my favourites, Marsh marigold or King cup. I think it needs to be where its roots can reach the pond. As you can see there are two plants. There were three, but one failed to "take". I observed this year that six weeks ago there was no sign of them at all in the moss, and I feared that they too might have died. But no. Here they are, and I love them.

The packet of Snakeshead fritillary corms seems to have produced only one plant. I am pleased with what I got. 

It is growing in the very small (1m x 2m approx) patch of wildflower meadow that we have room for. Special seed (special grass as well as flowers) was sown on a cleared patch three years ago and this is where we are now. Expect to see summer flowers in due course. It is very popular with baby frogs when they emerge from the pond and are looking for cover. Occasionally we stumble on one of last year's babies (still too small to breed). There is quite a lot of cover in our garden.

Sunflower hearts are what the small birds like most. We now have some goldfinches, I'm pleased to say, visiting them. They ignore completely the special Niger Seed feeder. Our local Saintsbury's has run out of sunflower hearts, so the little birds will have to adapt. We shall see. A blackbird regularly washes in the so-called ditch, and one can often spot a dunnock among the sparrows. I hope we get a surge of fledglings soon. We shall see.

Easter Weekend

 There is now no question that winter is over. The frogspawn has turned into tadpoles and green growth is on every plant. The question of what to weed and what to leave is not one to worry about. My patches of annual cornfield flowers are weeded to keep out other annuals that I don't want. On the other hand some traditional "weeds" are welcome in the garden. Fortunately our neighbour has a wonderful display of dandelions, so I do not need to encourage them. But they are a vibrant yellow, and invaluable food for insects. Here is Wordsworth's view on the subject.

On display in Wordsworth's large garden at Rydal Mount

One thing I cannot claim is green fingers. Last year I planted lots of snakes-head fritillary corms, in the patches of rough grass. Now there has come up only one. Still, it is very welcome. One of my favourite spring flowers is wild primroses; none of the plants I have put in here have lasted. Fortunately they are still abundant in many woods, and I shall keep trying. I often think, while  out in the country - "Now there's an idea for the garden."

Not our garden, but what an inspiration.

I am always pleased to see insects. Various bumblebees have arrived. During the strict lock-down two years ago I determined to identify all bumblebees that arrived; I did not find it easy. Perhaps this will be the subject of my next blog-post.

The comparative shortage of small birds continues. Nor can I show you any birds eggs. I do not think there is a place in the garden where I could put a nest-box that would be safe from cats. If you can, please do. Our various small thickets may or may not be used for nesting one day, but prowling cats and foxes mean it is not altogether a safe place.

Cats are not welcome. Some predators are. (I doubt if there is much ethical logic in this.) A few days ago a sparrow-hawk sat on the fence for several minutes before moving on. Maybe the small birds are right to be cautious about using our feeders.

Birdsong, compost and wild flowers April 4th

 Today I was having lunch in the garden. Suddenly from the bush to my right came not a tweet but a sparrow shouting - TWEET TWEET. I wondered what this could mean; I do not remember hearing quite such a sparrow-shout before. Almost immediately the male sparrow flew down and picked a piece of the fat-sprinkle I had scattered for ground-feeding birds. I think it was the only bit left after three hours. Simultaneously a blue-tit, a blackbird and four or five other sparrows appeared. I wonder if the shout meant "Here's some food, folks!" or, perhaps more likely, "Here's some food and it's mine!", in which case it might have been wiser to keep quiet. Observing wild creatures in action, even if one is painfully short of expertise, is part of the fun of wildlife gardening.

A big task just now is mulching with compost. I doubt if anyone who reads this blog can make as much as they would like, so one buys in extra bags. This brings in a rule as inflexible as "No pesticides" and this is "Only ever buy peat-free compost." This is not a benefit for your own garden, but for the places where peat is dug out for sale. Not only is peatland a precious habitat, it is also an invaluable carbon sink. Peat should be left in the ground, just as coal should be. When you go shopping for compost ask for peat-free. If they have not got it, go elsewhere. Consumer power will soon have an effect.

In Edinburgh it is easy. Our Garden Waste Collection ends up with an outfit called Forth Resource Management that has vast bins in an old quarry. I hope that wherever you live something similar applies.

https://www.frmrecycling.co.uk/caledonian-horticulture-products/

Another jolly thing that happens at this time of year is sowing wildflower annual seeds. Our church for many years has given out little packets, but they are not expensive to buy. we get the Cornfield Annual Mix from Scotia Seeds. This comprises Corn marigold, Cornflower, Corn poppy and Mayweed. They work well in pots or window-boxes as well all in beds. They also self-seed from year to year. They make a splendid patch of summer colour and also, more important, provide food for pollinating insects. I hope I can show you some of this year's blooms in due course. To be getting on with, here are some photos from the last couple of years.

Things move fast! March 26th

 The return of growth in the garden does have one drawback for the owners of a wilded pond. The new growth sucks water out at an alarming rate. But with a small pond one or two watering cans full soon restores the levels. I have just come in from doing this. I gather that water from the tap can be a problem - quite rightly it has stuff in to kill microscopic bugs - so we have tubs detoxifying in an out-of-the-way corner. A rain-water butt would be even better, but we haven't worked out where to put one.

The new growth is very welcome, though. All winter I have been worried that the lovely marsh marigolds have given up and died. But no. This morning the spikes of their leaves are pushing up through the moss. And the buds on the brambles and the raspberries and the wild rose are turning into the green shoots of little leaves.

I have already mentioned our first bumblebee and our first butterfly. This morning I saw my first wasp - presumably a queen come out of hibernation. My excellent insect book, the Collins Guide by Michael Chinery, tells me I can distinguish different types of wasp by studying their faces. 

However, this involves practical difficulties which I have not yet solved. I shall say "Common" till I'm proved wrong. If it starts building a nest where it could be a real nuisance come late summer - inside the garage, for example - I shall encourage it to move elsewhere. Otherwise wasps are welcome; they do a lot to keep smaller insects under control and in balance.

Also a cloud of some species of small fly (no identification yet; sorry) has been busy over the pond. I ought to make more effort, but I think we are talking of hundreds of possibilities. 

The first lawn-mowing of the year has made it easier for blackbirds to hunt for worms, which I love to watch. Presumably the half a dozen chattering magpies on the neighbouring roofs are one of the reasons we don't see all that many small birds. Though a dunnock or two are welcome daily visitors. 

Equinox week. March 20th

 To get a picture of the season in Scotland right now, consider my day yesterday. Preparing for an early start, it took me at least five minutes to scrape ice off the windscreen. But then, later in the day, I saw my first butterfly of the year, a peacock, in the Angus Glens.

Last week I mentioned George Orwell's "Some thoughts on the Common Toad" as a wonderful evocation of spring. A poem on the same subject that is as good as one could wish is by Gerard Manley Hopkins. "Nothing is so beautiful as spring...". Here it is.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/51002/spring-56d22e75d65bd

I have often discussed with classes what he might have meant by "weeds in wheels". Maybe it was this (though I doubt it).

Be that as it may, it is a gorgeous poem, worth knowing by heart.

Meanwhile in the garden this week the buds on the pear tree have been swelling and turning green. Daffodils of many varieties are splashing yellow in every corner and bed. There is nothing "wild" about these plants. But in "Wildlife of a Garden" by Jennifer Owen (I recommended this book on December 4th last year) she assures us that her Leicestershire garden "contains the elements of a conventional garden and is in no sense a wilderness". In many ways a managed garden can be just as good, probably more varied, for wildlife as a naturalised one. 

I was very pleased in my small pond to see a number of pond snails - no longer miniature, but about half the size to which they will grow - setting out to graze on the algae. I assume that in the icy months they have been deep down, out of sight. On the same day I saw my first bumblebee of the year - presumably a queen. She will have come out of hibernation and be looking for a suitable nest site. I have provided a few, but there's no telling where she may end up.

The pair of magpies, rather bullies of the garden bird world, are clearly setting up house in a neighbouring conifer. They are the first to the scattered bird-food most mornings. More of a delight for me is the dawn song (5.00 am the other day) of a blackbird. Do read that Hopkins poem. The song I hear is definitely a blackbird, not a thrush. 

I wonder what the next week will bring.

The Mating Season. March 12th

 The first frogspawn appeared when there was ice on the pond most mornings. A few days later we have slightly warmer conditions, and every day we can watch from the kitchen window. The surface is in perpetual motion as male frogs splash and swim in search of a female. Some of them must be successful, for the number of blobs of spawn has increased slightly.

There is no photo of this, because as soon as I get within range the frogs (maybe half a dozen) dive down and disappear. 

In an earlier post, about bird-feeders, I commented about the relative lack of birds during the winter, and the expectation of seasonal migration. Well, in the last few days (that warmer weather, maybe) there have been changes. The foraging blackbirds every day are clearly a pair, male and female. For most of the winter we were visited only by a male. We have not seen a starling since, I think, September. But yesterday a pair were at the fat-balls. There is a fairly substantial evergreen two gardens away, and I think they nest there. Certainly in previous years we have seen flocks of young starlings in April and May gobbling up the fat-balls. Something similar happens with magpies - though we have seen one or two of those over the winter.

A very pleasing first sighting of spring was goldfinches. After a winter without them, three were on the bird-feeder (sunflower hearts) on Wednesday. Perhaps they were just passing through, but certainly in previous years we have had families on the feeders in April and May. No doubt every year will be different. (Memo: Clean bird feeders.)

There are many beautiful pieces of writing about spring. Lots of glorious poems one can think of. Not as well known as it should be is George Orwell's "Some thoughts on the Common Toad". Do read it. Here is the link to it.

https://www.orwellfoundation.com/the-orwell-foundation/orwell/essays-and-other-works/some-thoughts-on-the-common-toad/ 

Much of the news is depressing. But - and this is Orwell's message - we can still enjoy the spring. 

March 6th. Frogspawn

 Last night I returned home after a couple of nights in London. I went out into the garden with a torch, just in case, and this is what I saw.

This is particularly pleasing because it shows that some of the frogs that laid eggs last year have found places to survive the winter and are able to breed again this year. Their children who were tadpoles last year are still too young. 

If you are ever waiting for a train at Euston, St Pancras or King's Cross (it happens a lot if you live in Edinburgh) it is well worth going 400 metres or so north of King's Cross to find this.

Camley Street Natural Park is a lovely place to spend a few minutes. A volunteer warden and I chatted for a bit.

They have, of course, more space than the owners of small patches for whom this blog is written. But one can always learn something new that may be worth trying in a small space. They have more than one log pile:

I expect we all do. But they are trying out a new idea which is explained in these two photos.

There is surely no reason why we should not make all our walls and fences bioreceptive. I will let you know how I get on. Meanwhile, I shall enjoy watching the frogspawn develop.