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. 

February 21st

 As far as I can work out from books the ideal time to get some of the growth out of the pond is before things start coming to life - certainly before any frogspawn is laid - and after the water is too cold to bear. So today was the day. Storm Franklin was not affecting Edinburgh and it was pleasantly sunny. So the pond that looked like this

was made to look like this.

One very considerable advantage of a small pond is that I can reach all of it, and the whole job -dredging out excessive growth, cutting back dead stems and trimming the grass round the edge - took less than an hour. I hope the plants that flowered last year reappear this; and I like to have some open water so that I can look into the depths and see any pond-life that may be swimming about.

To my surprise today a pond skater emerged. It seems very early in the year. This one skated across from one dark recess under the bank to another. There was also some minute creature, smaller than a pin-head, jumping on the surface. I have not yet managed to identify it. 

It is important that the plants pulled out are left where any mini-beasts that live in them can make their way back to the water. My shallow end makes that easy.

You can see that I have left the dead stems of the tall purple loosestrife for the moment. I do not know if anything likes to overwinter in them - it is certainly possible - but I think they are very attractive. And all the time I worked, a blackbird was singing and singing, declaring that these gardens are his territory.

Later that night I dug out a book which should belong to all amateur pond owners like me:

You may guess from the price that I have had it a long time. From it I learn about pond-skaters: "The adults are long-lived and many species are capable of surviving through the winter by hibernating". I hope the one I woke up can get back to sleep again. 

And then I found that the jumping pin-head was indeed a springtail: "A few species are found on water, where they occur all the year round". I ought really to check these books before posting the blog - but I guess this slovenliness fits with my main point that wildlife gardening is for everyone, not just for dedicated naturalists. 

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Four Habitats

 This is the last blog-post about the general set-up of the wildlife areas in the garden. After this they will, I hope, chronicle developments as they happen from early spring onwards. But there are a few more things to point out that show how one can practise wildlife gardening in a small space, if that is all you have available.

The Wildflower Meadow

This looks like a patch of rough grass, allowed to get out of hand. Three years ago I lifted the turf from a one metre wide strip of lawn. I guess it is about two and a half metres long. On the bare soil I sowed it with "Urban Pollinator Mix" from Scotia Seeds. It has been rather overcrowded with Ox-eye daisies, and some of the plants enticingly on the label have not appeared so far. But is only a very limited site, and there are about half a dozen flowering plants. I hope I can show you them later in the year..

The water feature (we call it the ditch) is just using up the left-over pond liner. You may remember that I bought far too much. No special effort has been made to get native plants for it, and some of the pretty ones I bought seem to have died. But the two together - meadow and ditch - turned out last summer to be just what the baby frogs wanted. They could hide in the long grass or under the flagstones, and occasionally leap into the water if frightened. You will notice that the left hand end of the ditch has been made so that it is easy to climb out, a very important consideration. I did put some oxygenating weed and some pond snails in the water.

The Cornfield Annuals

This looks as unprepossessing a bit of mud as you could wish to find in a garden. But in late summer, I hope it will be blaze of colour and humming with pollinating insects. Every Eastertide at our church we give out a teaspoonful of seed of wildflower annuals, roughly enough for a square metre.  (Scotia Seeds again; there is a lot to be said for getting fairly local plants if possible, and this garden is in Scotland.) We find that they self seed vigorously, so this area hardly needs new sowing. But they work well in pots too. This is what they looked like last summer.

The main work is weeding out those other self seeded plants which one happens not to want. There's no rule about this, of course.

Ivy

It is agreed by all the books that ivy is an outstanding plant for wildlife. I know this is true from my previous garden. Quite apart from invertebrates, birds eat the berries and find shelter, if not nests, in the foliage. It can also be a menace if it grows rampant and unchecked. Here I have, as you see, planted a couple of cuttings from a local park. But the main point of the trellis is so that every tendril that strays outside it shall be ruthlessly cut off. We shall see if this works.

The Almost Hedge

One of the things I liked most in our old garden was the wild hedge. (It was not, in fact, a boundary.) About ten metres long, and with seven or eight varieties of native trees, some bought (hawthorn), some grown from seed collected by the wayside (guelder rose, oak and beech) and some just turned up (ash and elder and hazel).You can see in the photo what I have here. There is a discrete pile of logs, with some magnificent moss. Because we decided against a compost heap - a matter of space, and we do  buy bags of compost made from our Garden Rubbish collection - I made a little cylinder of chicken wire and fill it with leaves, twigs, rotten apples and so on. The shrubs on either side are not "wild", but the birds who perch on them don't seem to mind. The bramble just turned up, and is not allowed to wander far.

Those of you who have read this blog from the beginning with know that this series of posts was inspired by one sentence from Colin Stafford-Johnson in his "Wild Gardener" programmes on BBC2: "Anyone who's got a little bit of land can make the land better for nature." I hope these introductory posts have seen that even without much space, and a good deal of that given over to lawns, "exotic" shrubs and so so, you can still try to make it better for nature. If you never use pesticides and herbicides, and provide a bit of water, you are unlikely to go far wrong.