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.