Gardening for Wildlife

Having been absent from the blog for a month now due to a hectic schedule, a quick update as I'm still hectic, but with work I went to see a very interesting trial at RHS Wisley last week. This went out as an item on Radio 4's Saving Species, but Helen Bostock of the RHS has just updated her blog. I thought you wildlife gardeners out there may be interested in this.

Plants for Bugs blog

More soon, I hope, after a mad dash to the Farnes, Wearside, Cornwall and then back to Yorkshire before the end of June..... keeps me off the streets I suppose :-)

Jones's Mill, Wiltshire

Events after last weekend stopped me writing about my first visit to a wildlife reserve near Pewsey in Wiltshire. Wiltshire is still a new county for me to explore and so after 5 and a half hours pruning a gargantuan rose pergola for one of Julie's clients on the Wiltshire / Berkshire border, on Saturday evening I needed a bit of relaxation and to stretch the legs after all that time standing up on a ladder.

I also fancied a cider. So as the nearest shop to us is the co-op, 7 miles away in Pewsey, the town which gives its name to the Pewsey Downs, off I pootled in the old Suzuki. To get to the co-op I have to pass Jones's Mill, one of Wiltshire Wildlife Trusts reserves. I'd not been before and although the sun was setting, it seemed as good a place as any to walk the legs back into action.

Interestingly no one really knows why it has this name (I read the notice board). But back in the 1500's there was a mention of a house by the River Avon, but since then this has been agricultural land. This reserve wasn't at its best in mid March as it is being managed for flora and invertebrates, with many areas being grazed by Galloway cows.

I did though see a couple of early marsh marigolds in flower

and the alder carr and oak woodland is covered in lichens, such as this Evernia prunastri

Anyway it was a very pleasant half an hour stroll by the River Avon, a few birds about, a green woodpecker and a wonderfully clear song thrush singing it's double phrases into the dusk, but not much else. I'll leave it a few months and return in May or June to see how it has changed. I enjoyed the cider later as well.

On Sunday we were doing some more gardening for Julie, this time for a wonderful old lady near Wooton Bassett who has basically a field to cut every 2 weeks

But in a corner of the field is an ancient plum tree, which had just come into blossom. The whole tree was buzzing with solitary bees visiting the flowers. A wonderful reminder that even after a worst winter for 100 years, insects and invertebrates just emerge as normal and begin their life cycle once again. Sadly my rushed photos of the bees were all blurred.

However one person who is not emerging yet is Molly. As she seems to be developing a bit of a fan club on this blog, here's another picture of what Molly does best. Basically hogging the radiator (it is on by the way) and not moving too far, maybe as far as her food and back again but that's all. Warmer temperatures will need to be in the offing before she goes very far.

Unearthing black gold

When oh when will this dull, wet and miserable weather end. I'm on holiday for a fortnight and have picked by far the worst week of the year. But lets not complain too much, on with the wellies and tackle a job that is long overdue - the clearing out of the compost bin.

I suppose strictly speaking this should have happened in the autumn, the compost spread onto the garden and lightly forked in, awaiting the frost and winter weather to break it down further. But we didn't. Speaking of frost, in all that severe weather during November and December, frost heave happened a-plenty in the compost bin, causing it to erupt from all sides, causing a right old mess, like scree scrambling down the mountain.

So there was nothing for it, off with the front and lets see what was in there. Ohh that does look good, well apart from the detritus on the top.

Oh and it was good stuff, once I'd removed the top 6 inches or so it was just perfect. I had made a DIY sieve out of a plastic trug to riddle out the worst of the lumps, but that didn't work (the compost was too wet - my failure will remain forever unseen on the blog) so in the end ingenuity prevailed and I used a wire hanging basket. Perfect.

Ohh you can just feel the goodness oozing out of this. Absolute black gold. It was packed with millipedes, a good sign, and an abandoned rodent nest. Later a frog bobbled along, so that's my first spring frog of the year.

So after about 2 hours hard graft, I had the compost all lined up against the veg plot. This is about 2/3rds of it, and sieving some through a 6mm mesh to plant a few bulbs, it was just perfect when mixed 50:50 with multipurpose compost. It's not sterile so weeds may be an issue, but unleashing home made compost into the garden must be one of a gardeners biggest joys. However I did find 3 spoons and a pair of socks about half way down. Best not to ask anything further about those.

Next job sorting and cleaning the greenhouse for the impending arrival of hundreds of plug plants herself has just ordered. If it's anything like last year there will be a triffid-like maelstrom of foliage in here in about a month - shudder!!

An unexpected find in the garden

Gardening is a bit like life. One never knows what on earth will happen next. Last weekend having a garden tidy up, I came across many plant pots with "something" in them. I blame moving house for this lack of knowledge of what lay within the compost, my chaotic incompetence had no bearing on the matter. Some had been labeled, now lost, some had labels and now illegible and most were just long forgotten pots covered in weeds. Pots which as some point in time had been filled with seeds, bulbs, who knows what. I always seem to have a collection of unknown pots at the back of the greenhouse or somewhere. Anyway not having time to look at these properly, I moved them all to another part of the garden for future inspection.

This I did. And two of the pots show signs of life. And not just life but snowdrops. But where on earth did they come from? It is just possible these are snowdrops from Lacock Abbey in Wiltshire. No, I didn't dig them up, but we went there last February and someone had a stall. However they may also be from East Lambrook Manor in Somerset, as I bought snowdrops from there too the year before.

One of the snowdrops was in flower and it is a double flowering one. So my guess is this is more likely to have come from East Lambrook, as they have a national collection there. Oh how I wish I'd labeled them. Hopeless!!!

Does anyone know what species this is? Or even get close (click for a closer image)?

The other pot is equally exciting, as these snowdrops seem to be emerging but struggling to get above the level of the compost. Are these the same ones as in the pot above, or different ones? I know what you're thinking, the long winter nights must just fly by in my house if this is the only thing to excites me in February. It takes all sorts.

Speaking of snowdrops, last weekend I read about the Scottish Snowdrop Festival which is run by the Scottish Garden Scheme (the yellow book's Celtic cousin, north of the border). I love the idea that some gardens open in February in Scotland to herald the arrival of spring and it all goes to charity. Well done Scotland. The article in the Daily Telegraph is here.

Wholemeal kneading to pot up

Oh dear this is very worrying. I decided today to make some bread. I've made bread before, but that was back in the mid 1980's when I had loads of time on my hands and began experimenting on foodstuffs. What on earth possessed me to become a bread maker now? Okay I'm on a health kick after being a bit under the weather at Christmas, but why not buy a loaf and relax. I lay there this morning listening to the birds, willing myself to pop to Sainsbury's to buy a loaf, but no. I'd said I was going to make bread today and come hell or high water it was going to happen. Aries men, when they get an idea in their thick heads, are neigh on unstoppable.

So I was off. Armed with a recipe for a 2 hour loaf I battened down the hatches and set forth on my voyage of yeast based foodstuffs. The recipe I had was for a wholemeal loaf. However I'm always worried about Julie, being a vegetarian, and whether she gets enough protein. I'm sure she does, but I still worry. So I adapted the formula to include quinoa flour to a ratio of 4:1 wholemeal : quinoa.

Now I know a lot of you out there knit yoghurt with abandon, I've seen the fabulous jams and bread stuffs emanating from the pages of your blogs. But this is exciting. I had no idea what I was doing, but worked out if I can mix a 4:1 cement based mortar, I can make bread. Ingredients measured, mix in the bowl, and hey presto a dome of pre-bread emerged which just, note the word, just, needed 5 minutes kneading. Nothing to it.

Blimey!! Who invented kneading bread? Not only did I require the power of a weightlifter, but 3/4 of the flourey-dough stuck to my hands and no amount of persuasion, cursing or brute force would get it to return to the work surface. Apparently dusting with flour helps, but I just turned white and sneezed a lot. Slight communication failure there. I take my hat off to you competent bread makers, you're geniuses, or is that genii?

Eventually though brute force and perspiration won the day and the now well pummelled mound was placed in a tin, plastic bag over, and leave for an hour to rise, or prove or something. I needed soothing so we headed off to the local tack shop where herself bought a natty little Toggi riding jacket and I tickled a Jack Russel's tummy.

We were actually out nearly 2 hours and I had visions of returning home to some form of Quatermass experiment. The bread would have risen out of the tin, and be now engulfing large swathes of the Somerset coastline. But no all was calm, and so in the oven it went.

Just half an hour later the oven went into labour, and being the proud expectant father I am, I delivered the baby myself.

And I have to admit, it is rather delicious. Slightly on the robust side of heavy, much like its father, but the texture was just the gnats pyjamas. Julie insisted we cut into the loaf immediately it emerged from the oven, so what you can not see here is all the steam. Anyway I enjoyed the experience so much, as I write this blog in the evening, there is another loaf, a platted loaf and 3 buns proving downstairs. I feel a business opportunity developing.

As if that wasn't excitement enough today, being a fabulous day weather wise, we spent 2 hours in the garden. It is always fab to get out into the garden after winter and start the process of replanting, and of course clearing up the mess after 3 months neglect.

Earlier in the week I had purchased 2 new terracotta pots and some spring bulbs. Like many I guess, my pots had suffered badly in the bad weather, with only the Yorkshire Pot company's frost proof ones surviving. Two new Yorkshire pots were therefore added to the collection, plus dwarf narcissus February Gold and dwarf tulip, Red Riding Hood. The plan for the two pots are a permanent shrub with under planting of spring bulbs. One pot will have a rhododendron I was given my a work colleague as a thank you many years ago, that had out grown its barrel, and the other will have a standard bay. Eventually. My father had grown a bay from a cutting, which while only 6 inches high when he brought it at Christmas, has obviously sentimental value beyond its size.

One pot down, and one pot to go, while all the time being watched by this cheeky chappy on the fence, keeping a close eye on the mound of compost in the wheelbarrow.

Gardening by design

I'm in a musing sort of mode today, musing over something which has been flitting through my mind for a few months now, namely a plan, so far unformed, to have a sideline enterprise related to gardening. Julie (as a professional gardener) and I have many discussions over this looking ahead to 2011 when I finish my stint on Saving Species. I have in effect a career blank canvass in front of me, so now is the time to make a few preliminary doodles. My idea is something along the lines of gardening for emotions, but so far a unique idea hasn't formulated itself, as many other people also are doing something similar to this. I know there is something there I'm looking at but un-observing. Time will tell me what this is. However today I thought where better to shape and form an enterprise than on the blank canvass of my own back garden.

All my life gardening has been present in some form or another. Last night we were kindly invited to a BBQ by a producer on Saving Species for an end of current run celebration. I've known this producer for many years but have not visited their wonderful wildlife friendly home before.

The path up to the front door sets the scene exactly for what the rest of the garden is like. Exotically stuffed with flowers to attract as many insects and other wildlife as possible. Everywhere are bug boxes and tubes. On the water barrel, some bug boxes were temporarily left there before finding a home for them, and these unsecured domiciles can not now be moved as they are occupied by leaf-cutter bees happily stuffing leaves into the tubes. In the middle of the above photo is a sign, warning visitors of a subterranean wasps nest by the door.

Equally the back garden is just a myriad of pleasure, vegetables mixed in with shrubs and wild flowers, and so on an evening like last night the humm and buzz of wildlife made the heart beat just that little bit quicker as the sun danced amongst the foliage.

Returning home I looked at my own uncluttered and wildlife impoverished back garden. I've only been in this house since December 2009 and due to work commitments haven't really had a chance to do anything meaningful to change the layout. When I bought the house it had no borders or shrubs, being laid out as only lawn and decking, with a single silver birch along one edge. This suited the young family who lived here as they didn't have time, or interest to garden. It was an extension of their house for parties inclusive of 40 electric lights and a hot tub. Very easy to maintain, but not my style at all.

In the spring I did have time to dig a small border, with a tiny pond and erected an archway, but that is about all. The pond may be small but already a friendly frog has taken up residence, proving that even a tiny amount of water will bring wildlife in. I've also noticed diving beetles in there, and blanket weed from somewhere.

However this morning I spent a bit of time in the garden wandering about and wondering. In the 7 months I've been here I've not really had a chance to work out a plan. I think because there is so much decking, I can't see the wood for the trees, literally. My instinct is to dig it up as it is laid on gravel. But for the moment the decking does provide an easy to maintain hard area to sit on.

While having a cup of tea and wandering about, because of recent heavy rain, the lawn has emerged emerald green and is growing at an alarming rate. It needs cutting. So I had a thought. Instead of cutting the entire lawn tonight, I will shape beds into the lawn by mowing only part of it, therefore letting some of the grass grow longer. It's too late in the year to produce a wildflower meadow this season, but if I use the lawn as a blank canvass to draw (mow) on, I can amend the design at will before making bigger commitments (and mistakes). I also have problems with creating a wildflower meadow as this is heavy clay soil. But a good rummage through the Bright Seeds website has given me hope and inspiration.

So that's my plan, such as it is. I'd also like to get movement into the garden, and sound. As such I'm also wondering if I can construct an aeolian wind harp. Nothing as elaborate as those on this website here, but I did read an article about Mohican Wind Harps which interested me. Sand Bay my local piece of coastline has many huge pieces of driftwood brought in..... are there the bones for a wind harp to be found out there I wonder?

And so it begins. I've no timeline or plan, but any results will be sure to waft through to the blog. In the meantime I shall marvel at the ripe tomato from my much neglected outdoor plants. I bought the grow-bags and plants a month ago then didn't have time to stake them, so they're sprawling over the decking. But they are turning red!

And finally this website also interested me over the weekend..... after all we all have a need to sit back and enjoy the garden too...... now where is that bottle of wine? I must do more thinking !!

Of Cranes, Dames and .... hanging baskets

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind was a saying. Never work with animals of children. The latter I happily avoid, but the former is pretty much a constant in my life.

Take yesterday. I was up with the larks and heading to WWT's Slimbridge for work to record a piece for Saving Species, on the Great Crane Project, a partnership reintroduction project to bring Cranes back to the Somerset Levels, later this year.

And yes that is me holding that fluffy thing. So I know what is going through your heads. Why are those 4 people dressed like nuclear power station workers. Well it's obvious isn't it? It was Paris Fashion Week!!

Actually we were dressed like this as we were in the Crane School enclosure where the hatched chicks are being carefully raised without any human imprinting prior to being released in August. and below is one of the inmates. Another ahhh cute photo on the blog. And after recording at Slimbridge, we headed down to the Somerset Levels to record their ultimate destination at their release area.

It is such a pleasure to be given access to such projects which aim to bring much needed biodiversity into the British countryside. It's 400 years since Cranes last bred in Britain, but with luck down on the Somerset Levels from this autumn, the plaintiff cry of cranes coming in to roost of an evening will be hard. It's hoped 23 birds will be released this year, with similar numbers in the following 4 years. We'll be back then to record what happens when the birds arrive here....... and no sorry, I can't be more specific as to the location for obvious reasons, sadly, but here's a photo from my Blackberry of a mute swan and cygnets taken yesterday near to the location.

So that was the day job. The weekend job is man of action and intrigue. Or at least that's what I try and think of myself as. Actually what it often is, and I love it, is man of gardening. Saturday was again grass cutting and hedge tidying at a client's of Julie's; but on Sunday after a leisurely morning (we went to the Polly Tea rooms in Marlborough for a scrambled egg breakfast - I love doing that) Julie began on some more hanging baskets for clients.

Now this is where it gets scary...... for you the dear reader. I'd recommend those of you with a nervous disposition, look away now and do not read on further.

Julie is a consummate packer of plants into baskets. All spring she nurtures her plug plants and then in May and June populates wire baskets, such as the half finished one below.

Being a man I thought to myself while watching her from the comfort of a lounger and drinking beer shandy, "that looks simple, I could do this, it can't be that difficult". So I offered to make her a hanging basket for herself, after all after all this hard work nurturing and bringing on her babies (as she calls them), it would be a shame if she didn't have her own basket to admire in the summer sun.

I set to with an unwanted tray of lobelia. Visions throbbed through my mind, a veritable riot of colour, a basket packed with so many plants a cigarette paper wouldn't be able to pass between the foliage. Designers of Chelsea gardens would come knocking at my door for my services. Julie would be mightly impressed and we'd be delighted for months by my creation.

It isn't as easy as it looks.

Many a lobelia clump became detached from it's roots. Not ideal for further growth. The compost kept falling out of the basket when I made the holes for the plants. After half an hour I had more compost and foliage on the lawn than in the basket. I was exhausted. I was frazzled. And very quiet. Julie said she's not seen me this quiet for so long, ever. And in the time it took me to half fill a basket, she had made up 2 baskets. This is too much. I persevered, and as ever when I concentrate hard, my tongue stuck out from my mouth (why do we do this?). Eventually, I'd used up all the lobelia and stood back to marvel at the foliage rich vision I'd produced.

Go on, admit you are absolutely astounded ?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

I'll stick to making radio programmes and cutting grass I think.

And a Nightingale sang......

Last night an open invitation to the good folk of the BBC's Natural History Unit was offered to take us on a Nightingale walk at an RSPB reserve in Somerset. On a gloriously sunny and peaceful evening we met the RSPB's warden, Becky Thorpe and volunteer Dion Warner for what turned out to be a most memorable evening.

I thought I knew Somerset very well but have never been to Swell Woods before near Langport. We duly arrived at the allotted time and while faffing about with boots and binoculars, the group were entertained by a nuthatch on the feeders. A good omen for the rest of the evening. It turned out we weren't having the walk there, but being taken to a closed access area a few miles away. So off we went and it being only about 7.30 pm and a bit too early for nightingales set off to explore the wildflower rich farmland.

And what a fabulous spot. I apologise for the quality of the photos, these were taken on my BlackBerry, especially the out of focus green winged orchid below - but I wanted to record it on the blog. The two fields we walked through were awash with flowers, cowslips, some ox-slips, orchids, cuckoo flower to name a few. It was heartening to see such a fabulous oldy worldy field again. And that part of Somerset is fabulous anyway. We were in heaven.

But we'd come here for the birds.... as we entered the field we heard a cuckoo and while walking at the head of the group with Dion I thought I spied it flying across the bottom field. Walking down there, I saw it again, this was looking good. It's been many years since I have had a good view of a cuckoo. Hang onto your hats, this is going to get better. Dion and I stood there while the rest of the group caught up; there it was again, fantastic, oh hang on, there's another, oh just brilliant 2 cuckoos flying backwards and forwards across the field in what we assumed was a courtship flight (Stephen Moss organised the walk and he thought this was the reason).

But then one cuckoo flew behind us and a third began to .... err, well, cuckoo. This third cuckoo was located in a tree. So that was three cuckoos in a single field. Many years ago this wouldn't have been remarkable, but these days with the dramatic decline of migrant species in the UK, this was heartwarming. The pair gave us a display for well over 20 minutes. Talking to Stephen, Becky and Dion we said we had never seen such a wonderful, and prolonged view of a cuckoo. I'd got so excited I'd forgotten why we had come here, for the nightingales.

But the fields also teemed with wildlife, roe deer, reed bunting, sedge warbler, stonechat, heron, moorhen, long tailed tit, bats, swifts and swallows low over us, a peregrine and many corvids. So as we wandered back I was a happy man.

We got to the woods and Dion said to me come this way before the rest catch up with us. The two of us hoofed it down this track as he wanted to show me more flower rich meadows. But there it was, a nightingale singing in the distance, and beyond that another. It was a bit too far away to get the full effect of one of natures operatic singers, but good for me. We walked back to the group and there, not 20 meters from our gathering another nightingale sang. This time in full Pavarotti mode. What a voice.... the nightingale that is. I had some recording equipment with me so managed to capture the little fella-me-lad for a good 10 minutes. In the gathering gloom, with bats and moths flying overhead, and that crystal clear, waterfall song of nature, this was undoubtedly one of the best evening walks I've ever been on.

But it wasn't over yet. As we left the nightingale to itself and headed back to the cars, above Dion's car, yet another nightingale in fine voice. An evening seeing 3 cuckoos flying around us and 4 nightingales singing at their very best has to be a red letter day for me. I hope to return again one day ....

However, changing the subject somewhat and to catch up on the week briefly, I'll not return to Swell woods with Molly (exhibit 1 below m'lud)

This is Julie's cat, she's about 11 I think and mother of Sammy (not in picture) and Molly spent a good hour watching what I was getting up to in the garden on Monday. The beginning of last weekend was spent at my house, then Julie's. On Saturday we went to the Malvern Spring Garden show, it was a good day, but I would say it was wet and blooming cold, so we didn't stay as long as planned. So wet and cold in fact I had to cook soup on the stove under an umbrella..... yes thanks for the photo reminder Julie!!

Then on Sunday it was back to Wiltshire, where we went into domestic chores mode, such as gardening on Monday as I has a lieu day to take..... see evidence below.

Monday was also her MOT day, the car that is not Julie, so we spent a lot of time driving back and forth to the garage at Oare. To get there one has to drive through Pewsey and I'm getting to like that place, not least for the wildlife perched above shop doorways. Hares are a favourite of mine and these two made from chicken wire have caught my eye many a time. So much so (coupled with a wire crow in the gallery nearby) just before taking this photograph, I purchased a 10 meter roll of chicken wire........ watch this space folks.. !

and finally, not least as the smoke alarms have just gone off, which means my sausages are burning, in a previous posting I posted a worrying and disturbing photograph of Julie's wellingtons. Well I have had another photograph which sent a shiver down my spine.... all I will say about the photo below is the secateurs look remarkable clean and untouched for a professional gardener..... and apparently she was in trug heaven when she took this photo. Those of you who do garden will understand how a happy trug is a trug filled with weeds.


............. I need a lie down in a darkened cupboard seeing this again, before I have my breakfast !!

Gardening.....

Throughout my life I've swung this way and that with various interests, although Morris Dancing is not one that has so far hit my sphere of activity.

Gardening though has very much been part and parcel of my life ever since I became big enough to wield a trowel with a certain amount of alacrity. As a child I used to collect wild flowers and try and sell them to my parents neighbours - who fortunately were kind enough to press half a sixpence into my palm for a semi wilted bunch of bluebells. Obviously just a ruse to get me to stop door stepping them in a menacing fashion.

I find it intriguing though that no matter what else has gone on in my life, gardening has always bobbled along just under the surface. Yet these days, it is now pushing shoots through the surface and being a big part of my life.

This is due to Julie, partly at least. See disturbing photo above - Julie's wellington's in relaxed mode mid gardening...... doesn't every man receive a romantic photo like this from his lady friend, with the caption... I'm thinking of you ????

Weekends in Wiltshire are now accompanied by the plaintiff dervishing of said lady gardener in the greenhouse, surveying her 1000+ plug plants, now apparently referred to as plug-plus plants, as they grow and are nurtured into their finest luxuriant foliage and floribunda display ready for hanging basket and pot plant creation. Hard work but once the baskets are filled and delivered a sense of great satisfaction.

But weekends are not always about plug plants. Last Saturday found both of us in another part of Wiltshire where Julie has a client with a goodly sized garden offering views over a white chalk horse on a hillside. Until a fortnight ago this garden in a remote hamlet resembled a hay meadow. I said I'd help and so following my second visit there (the first being a fortnight ago) this Saturday, after 3 or so hours of manic mowing and hedge trimming the garden is beginning to look like a garden again. A sense of real satisfaction doing work like this. I find it satisfying not only for myself to be outdoors, but as the lady in question is well into her 90's, I like to think a little of what we did helping restore her garden will give her something pleasing to look at while quaffing her G&T and telling her interesting stories about the war years spent abroad.

So after a busy old week at work, spending all that time working outdoors, the scent of new mown grass mixed with petrol, it is a real tonic, and rejuvenates Quicksilvers soul. Sadly I didn't take any photographs of what occurred on Saturday, but as we are both heading to Malvern Spring Gardening show next Saturday. I'll post a photo from 2008, one of my favourite gardens seen there.

So this posting, whilst being not that earth shattering, is what I hope to be the beginning of a series of posting about gardening, along with wildlife and art, walking and Wiltshire. Although after Saturday's gardening maelstrom of excitement, we went on a car tour of west Wiltshire and headed into north Dorset, where I relived some nice memories too, ably assisted by a delicious Dorset Cream Tea!

I may post a photo of the plug plants soon..... Julie may need to avert her eyes for a while. It'll be too much for her!!

And here you go, as a postscript, not half an hour ago this evening I received the above photo from Julie to illustrate the blog. Taken a few weeks ago...... I'll explain all soon... save to say they're much bigger now !! I just need to lie down quietly somewhere first and recover before doing so!