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.