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.