Wildlife from my window
With more time spent at home, Alan’s been observing the natural world in his plot – what has he seen and what can we learn from the wildlife in our gardens?
As I garden organically, the wildlife owns my garden every bit as much as I do
There is no doubt about it, being confined to my house and garden every day for the best part of two months has brought me so much closer to my patch of earth – spiritually as well as physically. Like many whose jobs take them away from home I rush out into my garden on my return – marvelling at how something has grown, exclaiming with delight as the bearded irises in the border by the house erupt into flower, or seeing how much more of the pond’s surface the lily pads have taken up since I left. It’s not that I am ever away from home for any length of time – a couple of nights at most. But the fact that all working away was postponed, and that I could be in my garden from 8am till 6pm every single day – working alone – has let me see every bud burst and every flower unfurl. It has also reassured me that, as I have gardened organically for almost 40 years, the wildlife owns my garden every bit as much as I do.
Was there ever a brighter spring to be confined to barracks? How lucky were we with those brilliant April and May days when the sun beamed down and burnished the earth with a kaleidoscope of greens. I have always enjoyed being woken by birdsong – even when it begins at this time of year before 5am. And to sit with a glass in the garden at the other end of the day and listen to the plangent notes of the blackbird caroling from the chimneystack is something of which I never tire. We have been visited for the first time by a mistle thrush – bouncing along the grass looking for grubs; we have a resident pheasant
– at first with two wives but latterly monogamous – who struts all day in his vibrant livery beneath the bird feeder, waiting for crumbs from the table spilled by sparrows and the blue tits. House sparrows twitter in the tall dome of a bay tree outside the kitchen door, and jackdaws do their best to empty the bird table before the tits, the robin and the finches. And magpies? Yes; the magpies appear in ever-increasing numbers, forcing us to build a row of nestboxes underneath the eaves of the house for the sparrows whose nests in the hedge were destroyed last year by these black-and-white vandals of the skies.
But a sky devoid of aeroplanes and a main road sparsely populated with cars has heightened the delight of living in our part of Hampshire. Even the surrounding farmland seems to have gone about its business in muted fashion.
Not so the wildlife. As if safe in the knowledge that their moment had arrived, creatures descended in plentiful numbers. Or was it simply that, with time on our hands, we now had the opportunity to
Patience pays off in a wildlflower meadow. Its floral make-up will change through the seasons, and over the years, as some species become dominant and others fade. I cheer when an orchid pushes up among the grasses.
A great nesting site which runs along our boundary. I planted a mixture of hawthorn, holly, blackthorn, field maple, dog rose and sweet briar, whose berries provide food when the nesting season is over.
I like to think that even when not in lockdown I’m familiar with the goings on in my garden
become more observant and to savour the riches that come as a result of opportunity?
I like to think that, even when not in lockdown, I am familiar with the goings on in my garden. It is, to me, along with my family, the most important thing in my life. Brimstone butterflies are the harbingers of spring, along with the tattered peacock and small tortoiseshell who have overwintered safely in some shed or garage and emerge to continue the line. I have never seen as many orange tips as I have this year. They lay their eggs on garlic mustard and lady’s smock, but in the garden they’ll also take advantage of honesty and sweet rocket, both of which are plentiful in my borders, so I feel a real sense of having encouraged this butterfly’s abundance.
Alas, the swallows have not returned to the barn. Sometimes they do; sometimes they do not, but bats are flitting around at twilight and the scratching I can hear above me in the attic is proof of their residency.
The trouble with wildlife is that one cannot be selective. Garden organically, cultivate mixed hedgerows and wildflower meadows and you offer opportunities, but nature offers no guarantees.
Vital for bringing colour to terrace and patio, yes, but also to provide food for bees. Make sure the plants have single flowers with productive nectaries. These are replaced by petals in double flowers.