Saturday 16th August, 2014
On Monday I started on the annual trimming of the ferns growing on the banks of our drainage ditch/stream. I thought it would be an unevenful task but while I was working near the side of the garage I heard a clattering noise. Something was walking over the slate on the bottom of the ditch. I expected a cat or a longtail to emerge - but a young thrush waded out from under the canopy of ferns.
It was the last thing I expected because we hadn't seen any thrushes in the garden since I photographed one enjoying our raspberries over a month ago. I picked it up intending to find Tim and discuss what to do next - but it started to struggle. So I put it down in a warm dry place near the ditch and decided to offer it a worm. The plan didn't work out well. I am not sure whether the bird tried to peck at the worm and missed or whether it resented being picked up and was trying to discourage me from further overtures. But the result of my clumsy attempt at bird feeding was that my finger got pecked, the worm fell into the weeds and the bird shot off into some tall plants.
I wondered whether the young thrush had been blown out of a nest in a large conifer near the wall behind the ditch and went inside to do some research into thrush nesting habits. One article said that young thrushes often leave the nest before they are ready to fly and that the parents continue feeding them on the ground. The most sensible course of action seemed to be to avoid working in that part of the garden in the hope that the parents would find their youngster . . . but I wasn't very hopeful about a happy outcome. These incidents seldom end well. Unfortunately I was right. The next morning I found a little body on the drive.
But I couldn't stay sad for long. There is nothing better than the sight of a rainbow to lift the spirits.
I finished that section of the ditch on Thursday morning and thankfully there was no sign of a fallen nest or of other sibling fatalities. It is sad when a baby bird dies because the parents work so hard at feeding them but I try to remember that there has to be a balance between the number of surviving birds and the food available. Man is the only animal with the unfortunate ability to manipulate the food supply and overpopulate the world.
Last week I tried to magic some small copper butterflies . . . without success which was only to be expected because I haven't believed in magic since I was about six years old. This week I was luckier with butterflies. I saw two small coppers in the garden as well as a wall brown and a painted lady - all first sightings of the year.
I wonder whether I should be a bit less enthusiastic about weeding out sorrel and dock. I read that they are the main food source of the small copper larvae. But, on the other hand, if the butterflies lay eggs on my weeds they may end up being composted when I cut down the old growth in autumn and take the garden refuse for recycling. I shall have to consult my butterfly guru next door.
A small copper
The wall brown.
And the painted lady. We don't see them in the garden every year as they are migrants from North Africa and are unable to overwinter in Britain. They migrate earlier in the year so this one is probably the result of an egg laid locally this summer by one of the spring migrants. She (?) spent a long time sunbathing on the warm tiles of the next door house but finally flew over to join the red admirals and peacocks on our buddleia.
While I was up on the patio above the garage spying on butterflies, I noticed that the lace cap hydrangeas looked rather good when viewed from above.
There are a few new flowers too. The tiny pink cyclamen are flowering under the lilac and also under the azalea mollis.
And there is a single spectacular flower on the oriental lily in a pot outside the conservatory.
The butterflies are starting to show an interest in the sedum spectabile. I have two varieties - this is Autumn joy. The little buds are just starting to open. I also have a lighter pink one which flowers a bit later - probably Brilliant. The butterflies prefer Brilliant to the Autumn joy but it often flowers too late for the main flush of butterflies.
It has been a good summer for butterflies. There have been more peacocks, red admirals and small tortoiseshells than I can count. I saw at least ten red admirals on one small buddleia shrub. It is interesting how the populations vary from year to year. When we moved here there were masses of small tortoiseshells. They used to hibernate in our old garage. Then we went through a number of years when they were quite scarce. This year they were back - with a vengeance.
A couple of years ago Tim and I manhandled a large chunk of rockery slate from the front garden up to a sunny spot behind the house. We thought the butterflies would like to sunbathe on it. Here are a small tortoiseshell and a peacock taking advantage of the facilities.
I went out with the camera on Friday afternoon and checked the small coppers' favourite spot on the origano near the steps up to the old dead willow. There were no small coppers to be seen but I did get a better photo of the comma which also seems to like that sunny corner of the back garden.
This afternoon we went for a walk in Brookdale plantation.
We used to have three excuses for stopping to get our breath or rest our aching legs on hikes . . . picking blackberries, taking photographs, and just admiring the view. The first two applied in this case. I wasn't even tired but I couldn't walk past these juicy blackberries in the clearing near the felled logs. I photographed them quickly before eating them. They tasted as good as they looked.
We had planned to climb up to the top gate near the Mountain Road to photograph the heather. I saw how good it was looking when I drove home along the Mountain Road after an appointment at Noble's Hospital yesterday morning. We changed our minds when we were about half way up. We were both tired and the clouds were looking rather ominous. Instead I took a couple of close-up photos. First this little clump of heather growing amongst the rushes next to the track . . .
. . . then this seedhead - probably Hypochaeris radicata or Common Cat's ear although it may be one of the various types of hawkweed.
On the way down we could see through the trees to North Ramsey and the coast as far as Shellag Point. It wouldn't have been a good time to be walking past Shellag Point. The beach was already mostly under water and it was still an hour until high tide.
No comments:
Post a Comment