To dispose of a pigeon

"It's not against any religion // To want to dispose of a pigeon" sang Tom Lehrer in "Poisoning Pigeons in the Park".  Let's leave aside the accuracy of that statement (I'm pretty sure it's against the tenets of Buddhism, and I think quite a few Christians and adherents of some other faiths would have a problem with avicide other than in the cause of providing a meal).  I'm mostly happy for pigeons to visit my garden, with the occasional exception of when they peck at the vegetables or the plum buds (in which case we shoo them off, rather than poison them).  But when I have a dead bird on my hands, I do like to dispose of it decently.

Shallow grave

Down between the doronicums and the daffodils was a neat, low mound of soil, with the wing of a woodpigeon showing through at the top.  The two thoughts that came to mind, almost simultaneously, were: 1) who put that there? and 2) how much of the pigeon is attached to the wing?  (The answer to the second question proved to be - all of it.)  I would guess that it was buried by a fox; foxes will occasionally bury their prey, with the intention of coming back for it another day.  I remember one day not long after we moved here when, digging in a flowerbed, I unearthed the perfectly preserved head of a cock pheasant (no sign of the rest of the bird); it was a bit of a Godfather moment, albeit with a different sort of head and a different sort of bed.  Burying a pigeon, as I've noted on this blog previously, isn't easily done in this garden, and the fox had not selected the deepest soil for the purpose, with the poor bird really only three-quarters covered.  What surprised me was how neatly the fox had done it; I would have expected to see signs of scraping and other soil disturbance all around but no, nothing of the sort.  Fortunately that bed is in need of renovation and serious weeding, and no plants had been disturbed.

So - the old problem of where to bury a pigeon (properly).  Last year we had a short length of fence installed behind the summerhouse, and when the holes for the supports were dug I was surprised how deep the soil was there.  I hadn't seen a hole that deep in this garden since we hired a mini-JCB to excavate the pond.  Not having a JCB or even a particularly sharp spade to hand, I could only manage to get down about 25cm or so, but it was enough to give the pigeon a more appropriate burial; and I put a couple of bricks on top, just in case the fox returned and wanted to dig up its supper.

Meanwhile the plum tree is blooming nicely, with not too much pigeon damage so far!

A sign of spring

One sign of spring

Ask people how they know that spring has arrived and you would probably get a mixed bag of answers - warmer weather, primroses and daffodils flowering, birdsong, nesting activity, bees and butterflies appearing.  We've got all of that, but the other day another, less obviously welcome, sign of spring appeared: a small bit of poo on the lawn.  Thin, longish, dark and shiny.  We've had a hedgehog in the garden; and he (or she, or they) has been here and left a little deposit every night since.  I hope he or she is finding and eating the slugs.

Tulip 'Orange Emperor'

The weather has been windy, but getting warmer, and it's very pleasant in the sun; no need of a jacket for gardening, and the rest of the full winter gardening kit is being gradually discarded.  The first of the tulips are out: 'Orange Emperor' was the first, followed by 'White Valley', both of them replanted from last year but producing some welcome flowers.  The crocuses have gone and the early daffodils are fading, but other bulbs, such as the little pot of Pushkinia libanotica and the Muscari latifolia, are looking good and cheering up the patio and terrace areas, while the bigger daffs are still providing most of the colour elsewhere.  The two osmanthus are in bloom, and the first plum blossom is starting.  Meanwhile in the greenhouse, the dahlias have been dusted down, the rotten bits thrown out and the good tubers all planted up; and the first lettuce seedlings pricked out into modules to grow on in the cold frame.

Pushkinia libanotica

Pointy sticks!

I've been sowing the first spring seeds - the brassicas in the cold frame, and some other crops (salads mostly, but also leeks, turnips and beetroot) out in the veg patch.  This year I've drawn up a rough planting plan of what should go where, although I still find it difficult to envisage what crops will be out of the ground in time for the next crop to go in; I hope I've left enough space between the salads for the brassicas (sown in the cold frame) to be planted out, although some of the salads will (I hope) have grown and been eaten by then.  The plan seems to be working so far.  To protect the seedbed areas from dustbathing sparrows, wallowing partridges and dogs and cats wanting to use them as a litter tray, I've pushed in twiggy prunings from the buddleja, the idea being that wandering creatures will think twice before poking the more tender parts of their anatomy into a space with so many pointy sticks; I did this over the winter with one or two of the mulched beds and it seems to have been successful.  It may not be very decorative, but it's worth doing if it helps my seeds to come up undisturbed!

Despite the un-decorative sticks, the veg patch is looking rather tidier than in the past.  The long beds abutting the lawn have been edged with the spade and a shallow trough created to discourage the creeping grasses from trespassing, and - except for one section which needs heavy-duty weeding - look quite neat.  Most of the antirrhinums which were planted out there last year have survived the winter, so I've tidied them up a bit and look forward to seeing what they do this year.  The

Alkanet

black polythene covering the two 'no-dig' mulched beds was blown around by the winds so has been put back together again; underneath there is some couch grass trying to come through (and a lot of red ants, and a little stash - a mouse's? - of nibbled hazel shells), but I think I should be able to put courgettes and squashes in there this year through the polythene, slug activity permitting.  The paths between the veg beds, while not entirely weed-free, look rather better than in the past, and I'm trying to keep on top of that; for the moment I've reprieved the large, self-sown alkanet plant in one of the paths as the blue flowers are pretty and the bees seem to enjoy them, although the moment it looks like setting seed it will be pulled up as far as possible (the roots are immoveable).