The bully boys

The cold weather has gone, for the moment, and temperatures are now more normal for this time of year, above freezing with clear, sunny spells – good gardening weather at last!  The birds, less concerned now about keeping warm and finding food, are focussing their efforts on territory and pairing up.  The patio robins are an item again, protecting their patch against incursions by the robin from the far side of the garden; the dunnocks, who are often the target for robins’ territorial ire, don’t seem to bother them, at least for now.  However, all is not peaceful on the patio.

The patio robins - with dunnock

A pair of collared doves have started coming for breakfast, and don’t tolerate competition.  I’ve always thought of them as gentle birds, but these two are bully boys; the little birds are safe from them, but they’re not happy with the blackbirds (admittedly, the blackbirds aren’t happy with other blackbirds either; there are at least three males and three females around, and there’s a lot of aggro), and the woodpigeons, specifically Lefty the lame pigeon, whose territory the patio is, are enemy no 1.   After one of the doves attacked Lefty, landing on his head, he has given them a wide berth, even avoiding the patio when food is put out if the doves are around.  We’re trying to scare the bovver boys off, but it’s not easy to do without frightening Lefty as well.

The doves weren’t around during the hour when I did the Big Garden Birdwatch last weekend.  The count was better than expected, with a good range of species and quite respectable numbers.  We have a lot of sparrows, but they’re fidgety birds and difficult to count; I managed 13, which I thought was a good representative number (there are almost certainly more).   This was typical of the count: I recorded a fair number of each species, although I know that there are actually more in the garden.  Four of the six blackbirds, for example, and three blue tits; the two patio robins (but not the interloper), three dunnocks and two of the longtailed tits.  The rest were singles, but I was pleased that a wren showed up, and surprised when a song thrush appeared; there was one singing last summer in a garden nearby, but I don’t think we actually saw it, and this was the first sighting for months.  The others, a greater spotted woodpecker and a starling, were more predictable but still welcome.  No finches at all, nor great tits; I don’t know what’s happened to them.

Today I finally got round to planting the tulips (in pots)!  Better (very) late than never.

 

 

Cold again

In my last post I said that no particularly cold weather was forecast for a couple of weeks; and, for that period, it stayed mild, but with strong winds.  Then, this past week, we’ve had the cold weather again: overnight temperatures in the region of -4C, and staying low in the daytime, but fortunately with clear skies, sunny days and no rain or snow.  A couple of mornings have been white with frost, and there’s a clear line down the lawn dividing the ‘cold’ side, where the sun doesn’t reach at this time of year, from the side where the grass thaws out by day.  The advice not to walk on frozen grass doesn’t count for much when areas such as the compost corner and the summerhouse (where we store the apples) are at the bottom of the garden. 

It hasn’t been a good time for much gardening.  Some leaf-raking, weeding and cutting back got done in the dry spells before the cold hit, but in recent days time outdoors has been spent filling up birds’ feeders, scattering additional crumbs in suitable corners to provide not only breakfast but also supper for avian visitors, and putting out apples to keep the half-dozen or so blackbirds happy. 

It’s the Big Garden Birdwatch next weekend, and, although there are plenty of birds around, I’m not confident of a wide variety of species coming to be counted.  The regulars are here in quantity, but I haven’t seen a wren for a few weeks, and there have been only occasional sightings of the long-tailed tits (up to eight at a time), chaffinches and great tits.  A woodpecker (greatspot) was here yesterday, and a female bullfinch has been picking over the plum tree for a day or two; but that’s it.

The early snowdrops started appearing just after New Year, but there haven’t been many other opportunities for cutting flowers for the house.  The hellebores (not easy to keep looking good in a vase) have started flowering; they were knocked back a bit by the frost, but are recovering. The first daffodil leaves are pushing through, however, under the plum tree and in the front garden, and in the tubs where the miniature daffs are planted; just before the cold snap I top-dressed them with compost from last year’s tomato pots, which I hope will have protected them from the most recent freeze.

Happy 2023!

 

Happy New Year!

Another ‘warmest ever’ New Year’s Day, with weather that is typical for what we’ve been having since the snow melted: bright sunshine with a chilly wind, until the clouds came over and brought rain and hail.  ‘Unsettled’ is the Met Office’s term for it.  But there’s no forecast for particularly cold weather for a couple of weeks at least.

The cold weather in December has left its mark on the garden.  As I expected, the lettuces (which were starting to bolt anyway) and radicchio had succumbed, and other plants have been held back by the cold.  My New Year’s Day flower count was on the low side.  There were the winter stalwarts – winter honeysuckle, winter jasmine (but very few flowers), various viburnums, Mahonia ‘Winter Sun’ and rosemary.  Apart from those, it was a case of scrumping around for a few flowers on the big hellebore in the front garden, a couple of Vinca major blooms in the front wall, a pair of comfrey flowers in a sheltered spot by the long hedge, a few daisies here and there, some meadow grass and a panicum (fountain grass) head.  In the past there have been some flowers left over from the summer at New Year, but this year all of those are already gone; and the snowdrops are showing white buds but no opened flowers.  I make that 11 flowering plants.  But the garden is only waiting for better weather; the rhubarb ‘Timperley Early’ is already showing promising-looking sprouts.  (Note to self: it needs dividing this year!)

I had worried about the smaller birds’ ability to find food during the cold snap, but a wren has been around, and the family of long-tailed tits (all five of them) have been enthusiastically visiting the fatball container.  Our regulars are coming daily: a flock of sparrows, a couple of dunnocks, at least two robins (one of whom is trying to invade the patio but is being seen off by the resident robin there), some starlings, a few blackbirds, a group of blue tits, a collared dove and various woodpigeons, including Lefty who continues to dominate the patio.  And today a greenfinch came for a drink – something of a rarity these days.

I still haven't planted the tulip bulbs because of the cold weather; a job to be getting on with!

A proper December

Back in the day, November was chilly and December even more so.  Taking part in Bonfire Night activities, in early November, meant donning warm clothes and gloves, which were generally de rigeur until about March, or sometimes April.  In recent years, winters have been becoming milder, and we’ve got used to plants overwintering with little protection.  Some years I’ve left my echeverias outside, their pots moved up against the house wall for shelter.  Last winter I left some dahlias in pots on the patio, with no special measures to keep them warm, and they survived.

But then, occasionally, the weather just likes to remind us that we can’t take things for granted.  December this year has been cold, and last Sunday we woke to about 18cm (7 inches or so) of snow; there has been no further snowfall, but temperatures have only occasionally risen above zero Centigrade (and then only by a couple of degrees) and at night have fallen to -9C at times.  The roads have been treacherous, so I’ve been confined to the village, living (rather comfortably, actually) out of the stores in the freezer.  Yesterday a rapid thaw started, with rain and significantly warmer weather, and today all the snow has gone, leaving us with milder but very windy conditions. 

Frosted glass in the porch

When icicles hang by the wall ,,,

The birdlife has been very glad of the cooking apple tree; they've eaten all the apples that were still on the tree, and we’ve taken a few more out of store for the blackbirds.  It has been too cold to keep putting drinking water out for them; it froze within a couple of hours.

The last apple on the tree

So, what of the plants?  The greenhouse temperature has fallen to below -3C, which the dahlias (brought in there to dry off) will not like, and the top growth on the hedychiums is looking decidedly peaky.  Last year I dispensed with the greenhouse’s bubblewrap protection over winter, but this year I’m regretting not having taken any steps to protect the more tender plants.  Too late now, I suppose, although the meteorologists are hinting darkly at more cold weather to come, so it might still be worth putting the wrap up.

But, despite the past week’s freezing temperatures, life in the garden still goes on: under the snow, the hellebores have been pushing up buds …

Hellebore buds under the old leaves

 

No gardening today! (eom)

 

No gardening today ...

... and no bird bathing either!

Foggy November, frosty December

Woodpigeons in the fog

True to form, November slid downhill from mild and wet to chilly, foggy and damp.  The last days of the month were marked by dismal, dank fog, with the sun occasionally peeking through but to no great effect.  The pigeons gathered high in the trees to enjoy what little sun there was, and the sparrows, dunnocks and robins enjoyed the fatballs and crumbs put out for them; Lefty became a regular on the patio for breakfast.   Then one day into December, officially winter, the temperatures dropped, the weather came from the east and north and overnight minus temperatures (and not much more by day) became the norm.  Clear, sunny weather but feeling cold.  The berries on the rowan and holly trees were eaten weeks ago, so the cotoneaster berries and cooking apples – the eaters were boxed up for safety some time back – have been the main attraction for birds in search of food.  Fieldfares and a host of blackbirds flocked to the apple tree and to a pile of partly-damaged apples left out on the terrace up by the house, with occasional forays by robins, tits and chaffinches (there aren’t many cooking apples left on the tree now, although I have a few in store).  A female blackcap was feeding on the apple tree a couple of weeks ago, though I haven’t seen her since; blackcaps have been noted staying the winter in the UK in recent years instead of migrating to Iberia, and it was a bit late for this one to be on passage unless she was heading for the south coast.  I hope she stays here over winter.

Diners on the terrace

At least there have been no further avian flu casualties as far as I’ve seen.

I haven’t yet finished weeding the veg patch so no compost has been spread on the beds yet; as a result no garlic or beans have been planted / sown, though there will still be time for that when the freeze lets up.  The tulip bulbs are also still waiting to be planted, though the saved sweet pea seeds have been sown and are germinating on an indoor windowsill. 

There are still a few last flowers blooming in the garden, though they won’t last long in the frost.  Fuchsia ‘Hawkshead’ was in flower until the past few days, and one last ‘Gertrude Jekyll’ rose is holding on, battered but unbowed; and I picked the last nerine stem for a vase the other day.  There are winter flowers too: Rosemary ‘Miss Jessop’s Upright’ is providing some colour in the front garden, along with Mahonia ‘Winter Sun’ and the winter jasmine (Jasminum nudiflorum).

Rosemary 'Miss Jessop's Upright'

Jasminum nudiflorum

Fuchsia 'Hawkshead' - before the frost

Rosa 'Gertrude Jekyll' - hanging on in there

Pandemic

No, not that pandemic, but the outbreak of avian flu that is particularly bad across the country this year.   Migrant birds may have brought it here – seabird colonies and flocks of wild geese have been much affected – and it has now reached our parts.  It’s highly contagious and apparently birds die very quickly after catching it.  The estate next to the village brings in large numbers of pheasants for shooting, which have come down with the disease; they roam very freely around the area, spreading the flu to at least one of the village farms, whose hens all died yesterday.  500 of the pheasants have also died;  the prospects don’t look good for the other chicken flocks round here (and our local supply of eggs will be disrupted for some time).  Fortunately hardly any pheasants and few partridges have been wandering into the garden this autumn, so perhaps our land isn't badly infected.

But I wasn’t entirely surprised to find a dead woodpigeon under the holly tree today.  It hadn’t been attacked; it just looked as if it had just keeled over, so I’m assuming it was another casualty of the flu rather than a victim of a predator.  I found it a burial place in the front border by the wall.  But we’re hoping that our many other birds in the garden and beyond stay clear of the disease, especially the birds of prey such as the kites which might scavenge on the carcasses of the dead pheasants.  Ultimately, though, there’s not much we can do about it.

Our lame woodpigeon Lefty is still hale and hearty, and has been clearing up the dropped scraps under the fatball container when the sparrows are having their fill.  We’re hoping he’ll make it into 2023 when he will be at least 10 years old (we first noticed him in 2013, see the blog from that year).

Lefty and the sparrows

The weather has been on the mild side for November, but rather wet on the whole.  While stacking firewood for the winter, D noticed that the birds had been making use of the woodstore over the summer – there are two nests tucked up under the roof on top of the wood.  We left them there at least for the time being in case they are of use as a winter roost!

Nest in the woodstore