A to Z challenge 2023 – W is for . . .

 

A to Z challenge 2023 – W is for . . .

My theme for this challenge is Nature in all much of her wonderful diversity. My posts will reflect the fact that I am resident in the south of England.

All photographs in this post are the property of the writer.

Warm Welcome

We planted this climbing rose at the far end of the garden and I wish we had chosen a spot nearer the house, for although it is advertised as having a ‘light fragrance’, it has a noticeably sweet scent.

It is reputed to be one of the longest flowering climbers available, and is classed as a ‘short climber’, or miniature climbing rose, meaning that it attains an eventual height of about 8’ (2.5m). It has been available commercially for about 40 years.

‘Warm Welcome’ bears clusters of bright orange semi-double flowers from July to September, which shine out on the darkest days, yet are not overwhelmed in bright sunlight, and which contrast beautifully with the plethora of dark green leaves.

Despite its loveliness, it has vicious thorns, the sort that pierce sharply and hang on tightly, not wishing to release the person who has ventured to prune it. Sturdy gardening gloves are de rigeur!

 

Water

All living things need water. Even a small pond in the garden will attract wild life, some of which may not be welcome, though most will bring delight.

Within a very short time of digging a pond – or utilising an old sink or dustbin lid – all manner of flying, biting, humming, stinging, buzzing, swimming creatures, large or small, will find their way to the new water source. A miniature world of procreation, battle and renewal will be revealed as the occupants and visitors commandeer the area.

With luck, toads, frogs and newts will discover the new playground, the nocturnal newts to be rediscovered periodically when they rise from the depths or appear from under rocks, while the frogs are more readily seen. Toads are secretive and lurk in damp, dark regions of the garden, returning to the water to mate and lay eggs in the spring.

Common toad

Common smooth newt

In the heat of a dry summer, birds drink and gratefully bathe in the shallows. Small birds must drink at least twice a day and will also bathe to clean their feathers and cool down. In cold winters, a pond is a valuable water reservoir for birds, when other areas may be covered in ice.

Pipe in the forest to drain water

Mice and rats come to drink and sometimes swim, though usually as a means of getting from one location to another, rather than as a leisure activity.  (Mice can swim and tread water for three days.)

Wren (Troglodytes troglodytes)

This tiny bird, the commonest in the garden, occupies a wide range of habitats and is the most common breeding bird across the UK. It feeds on insects and spiders, searching among the leaves to uncover them. It is a bird popular with people and featured on our long defunct farthing copper coin.

For centuries the wren has been regarded as special. The legend that it proved itself to be the king of the birds is found across Northern Europe as well as in 13^th century Jewish writing, in India, in central Africa and in some North American tribes.

The Irish version says that all the birds gathered in a hidden green valley and decided that the one that flew the highest would be crowned king. The eagle soared high above the others and thought he was the winner, but the wren had ridden on his back and flew up above him at the last moment.

Because it is a very small bird, it does not have huge reserves of fat and suffers appreciably in cold weather. Wrens huddle together for warmth, all thoughts of territory put aside. In the winter of 1969, 61 wrens were found in a nesting box in Norfolk.

Early Christians thought the bird had pagan associations and in Ireland and the Isle of Man the bird was hunted on 26^th December, St. Stephen’s Day. It was said that the wren’s noisy song had alerted St Stephen’s persecutors to his hiding place among the bushes. A captured wren was paraded through the streets atop a pole and the date was known as Wren Day.

Folklore holds that hurting a wren brings bad luck. The bird is small but mighty! Its scientific name is taken from the Greek ‘troglodytes’ meaning ‘hole-dweller’ because the wren’s habit is to disappear into cracks and crevices in search of food.

I seem to remember ‘troglodyte’ being a term of unaffectionate abuse, an insult, in my youth. It implied that the person being so called was unsophisticated and didn’t know much, as simple as a cave-dweller, in fact. I wouldn’t mind being compared to a wren, that resourceful, alert, quick little bird.

Armistice at Toad Hall

Illustration by Helen Ward

Armistice at Toad Hall (with apologies to Kenneth Grahame)

Badger and Toad and Mole and Ratty had agreed that the reprehensible antics of the miscreants in the Wild Wood must be brought to an end. The year was turning from summer to autumn and Toad would soon be hibernating. In very cold or wet periods Badger, though not hibernating, would spend several days in his underground sett away from the perils of inclement weather. Toad and Badger could not bear the thought of little Mole and Ratty being left on their own to counteract the disruptive behaviour of the wily weasels and sly stoats and concluded they must make a mammoth attempt to engineer some sort of entente cordiale.

To this end they decided to hold a party at Toad Hall and invite the stoats and weasels.  ‘Know your enemy,’ said wise Badger, quoting from the Chinese.

Toad scratched his head, ‘We do know our enemy,’ he said. ‘We know them only too well and I know what I’d like to do to them.’ He puffed himself up. Mole and Ratty, recognising the signs of impending inappropriate action in their excitable friend, laid their paws on his arm in an attempt to pacify him.

‘What Badger means,’ said Mole in his quiet voice, ‘Is that if we can befriend the Wild Wooders we can understand them and avoid confrontation in the future.’

‘And if they get to know us,’ said Ratty in a reasonable tone, ’They may find they like us and don’t want to fight us any more.’

‘Sounds like utter rot to me,’ Toad sniffed.

‘At least let us try,’ said Badger. ‘A running battle upsets everyone’s equilibrium.’

Toad allowed himself to be persuaded and in the following days immersed himself in arrangements for the party. He printed invitations and ordered succulent delicacies for the banquet.When the day of the festivities arrived he and Badger, Ratty and Mole dressed in their finest clothes – Toad had commissioned a new suit especially for the occasion - and stood at the door of Toad Hall to welcome their guests. 

The first to arrive were the stoats, swaggering in and smiling broadly, showing their wickedly sharp white teeth. They grabbed paper hats and jammed them on their heads then fell upon the food as though famished. Just as they were cramming trifle and cakes into their jaws their smaller cousins, the weasels, strutted into the dining hall. There were cries and whistles of recognition and exhortations to try this or that dish. Toad and his friends looked on in amazement. Never had they seen such a display of bad manners. There were no polite interchanges such as, ‘Could you pass the cream, please?’ or ‘Might I trouble you for the salt?’ Instead the sharp-eyed little creatures shoved and pushed, grabbed and snatched until the table and the floor beneath it was a litter of mashed and smashed food and crockery. Not once did any of the guests look at their hosts or thank them. Replete, they put their hind legs up on the table and stretched back in their chairs, burping and hiccoughing and laughing uproariously at old jokes. Gradually the hubbub ceased and was replaced by sonorous snoring.

‘Do you reckon we know them now?’ said Toad rudely to Badger.

Badger shook his great head and said, ‘We tried our best. They are not creatures with whom we can have anything in common. I think the only thing we can do now is avoid them insofar as that is possible and make sure our own premises are secured when we are away from home.’

‘But they’re already in my home,’ protested Toad. ‘It was your idea to invite them in. Now how shall I be rid of them?’

He need not have worried. When the Wild Wooders awoke they left quietly. The oldest stoat, grizzle-bearded, shook the friends’ paws and thanked them for their hospitality. ‘It’s not the end of the war,’ he warned them, ‘But it was a pleasant interlude, a temporary ceasefire.’

The four animals set about clearing up the mess left by their guests. They found a small stoat still asleep in a milk jug. He woke with a start and helped them to tidy up then skipped out of Toad Hall, saying, ‘Thanks, Mister. It was fun.’

‘There’s hope in the younger generation,’ said Badger and Ratty nodded his head as he closed and bolted the heavy oak door.

Mole giggled and said, ‘I overhead a joke they made.’

‘Do tell,’ said Toad.

‘What's the difference between a stoat and a weasel?’ said Mole.

Badger and Ratty looked mystified while Toad tried to look as though he knew the answer. 

Spluttering, Mole said, ‘A weasel is weasily wecognised and a stoat is stoatally different.’

Their laughter rang out into the night and the Wild Wooders, hearing it, laughed too. The armistice at Toad Hall had been a great success. Maybe there would be another one, one day.

Thanks to Tess for this prompt. Go here to read other offerings.