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.

Spring has sprung 2012

Spring has sprung, the grass has ris’,

I wonder where the birdie is?

There he is up in the sky,

He dropped some whitewash in my eye!

I‘m alright, I won't cry,

I'm just glad that cows can't fly!

Spring is coming on apace and there has been activity in the pond.

In my Easter bonnet . . .

Look into my eye! See the humans' house. 

We have not heard the great chorus of frogs that has been customary in the past and there are certainly not hundreds of them in the water. They started calling later this year and are still croaking now so something has changed in their world. Overall, numbers have been dropping over the last three years and this spring they are sadly depleted.

Nonetheless, they have laid great swathes of spawn which appears to be developing healthily.

One thing that is really flourishing is the duckweed (Lemna minuta) The plant mass can double in size every two to three days during the summer but in our pond it dies away almost completely in the winter. We keep it under control by raking it off the surface and composting it. I don’t object to it – its little leaves are quite pretty and provide some shelter to frogs and fish.

We have daffodils aplenty and strong, bright grape hyacinths (Muscari) Our first early-flowering tulips have appeared and I noticed forget-me-nots this morning. 

 Nectarine (Prunus persica variety nectarina)

The nectarine on the patio will look stunning if all the hundreds of buds open. Two days ago there was one flower; today there are many more bursting.

A week ago it was the woodpeckers that were most audible, drumming on the trees. In the last couple of days the crows have been extremely vocal. Our feeders are well patronised. Long-tailed tits, blue tits, great tits and coal tits flit in, cheeping and cocking their heads, always keeping an eye open for enemies. The starlings continue to squabble and scream at each other in a friendly sort of ‘we love to hate each other’ way. Wood pigeons stumble onto the fat cakes and magpies and robins and nuthatches fly in to sample the feast. Blackbirds search for wriggly meals and sound their alarm calls at the first hint of danger. After a noticeable absence last year, when I saw just one collared dove, I have already seen a pair this year and hope they will return to nest in the garden.

The fur I’ve groomed from the dogs waits to be collected by the tits for their nests, and butterflies – those ‘self-propelled flowers’ (R.A. Heinlein) - dance in the sun and settle occasionally for a photo call.

The Comma (Polygonia c-album) is one of the first butterflies to be seen, appearing from late February. Much of the males’ time is spent looking for a mate – are the females playing hard to get? It’s interesting to reflect that a century ago the Comma was a rare sight but now is common throughout England and Wales and may soon colonise Scotland. A few have been spotted in Ireland in recent years. It’s good to hear of their success.

seven-spot ladybird (Coccinella septempunctata)

Cobwebby seven-spot ladybird

We have seen many seven-spot ladybirds, too, the commonest in Europe. Perhaps this means a summer full of aphids . . .

This is such a beautiful time of year when all things are full of life and growth and each day brings more treasures to light. The world becomes brighter and more colourful with every passing day and everything, birds included, looks as if it has been freshly painted.

First frog and a foolish butterfly

Yesterday, St David's Day, started with a heavy frost and blue, blue skies. It was a wonderful day – brisk, bright and surprisingly warm in the sun though had the wind been blowing it would have felt very cold. Today started in similar vein and the weather forecasters are predicting that we will have several more dry, clear days. In celebration of that I have chosen a Spring-like colour for this post, though it will probably be impossible to read.
Yesterday there were many flies in the forest, most of them intent on settling in my hair and just now I saw my first butterfly of 2010 in our garden. It was yellow – more lemon yellow than primrose but it didn't settle so I couldn't photograph it. I'm sure it's much too early for butterflies to be out and about so I fear it is destined for a short life unless it can find a warm place to rest. While I was outside I glanced into the pond in time to see a frog swimming into the safety of the depths. This was the first frog I have seen this year – usually they're busy quite early in February. Like our daffodils, however, they are late to appear this Spring.