The garden in April
Kari-Astri Davies is welcoming the bees and giving nature a helping hand as spring arrives
Sometimes i forget to look up, and a single blossom in the grass reminds me of what is above my head. The old plum tree is dancing with white flowers, the promise of fruit to come. In early April, the starlings under the eaves are already feeding chicks, making straight arrow forays from the gutter out into the fields, but never in the garden. Spring is here.
Native bee power
We are told that the rich floral diversity which gardens can provide increases the choice of nectar and pollen sources for foraging bees. Dr Natasha de Vere and her team at the National Botanic Garden of Wales put this to the test. Their research found that, in the spring, honeybees chose predominantly native woodland and hedgerow plants. During April, approximately 80 plant families flower in the grounds of the botanic garden, of which the honeybees used only 23 per cent. To quote Dr de Vere: “A small number of abundant, nectar and pollen-rich species provide the bulk of carbohydrate, protein and lipid early in the season.” April bee favourites included salix, prunus, malus, gorse, ash, hellebores, caltha and dandelions. Earlyflowering, non-native bulbs, such as Anemone blanda and muscari were also visited, as were wallflowers and flowering currant, but to a much lesser degree. I can attest to the pollination success of Salix caprea, our familiar April-flowering pussy willow. Once the bees have done their work and the downy seeds are ready to fly, if the wind is in an easterly direction, the garden is filled with clouds of seed, eager and very willing to germinate.
Managing nature
A splendid mound of shiny-leaved marsh marigold, Caltha palustris, is in full, intense yellow flower on the south-facing bank of our bordering stream. I think this plant just appeared one spring. In our copse, wood anemones and other wild plants, such as gladwyn iris, Angelica sylvestris and Carex pendula, thrive. I wonder if someone planted them or whether they are ‘survivors’ in a safe haven. Last year, we let one side of the stream bank do its thing, rather than strimming in spring. Then, in late summer, there was a wealth of yellow flag iris, meadowsweet, eupatorium and comfrey.
“Bees work for man, and yet they never bruise Their Master’s flower, but leave it having done, As fair as ever and as fit to use; So both the flower doth stay and honey run” george Herbert, ‘Providence’
Part of the garden abuts the edge of the village green. There is polite debate about how the green should be kept. There are those who like it neat and regularly mown, although it will never be of cricket pitch standard. Others would prefer less frequent interventions. A few years ago, the green was allowed to grow and cut for hay in late June. That year, the Meadow Brown butterflies were plentiful. Meadowsweet, meadow vetchling and Geranium pratense were left to flower along the edges. Intervention or management is definitely required. Ditches need clearing and hedges flaying. Hemlock, water dropwort and brambles would otherwise dominate the margins of the green, but maybe the mowing regime could leave some wilder patches. It is a tricky balance. Currently, I am planting out sweet pea seedlings. I have given them a hearty start by digging in compost from the compost bins. Hazel poles have been cut from our surrounding trees and made into rustic wigwams. Jute twine is then spiralled up the poles to support the sweet peas as they grow. A few more seeds are popped in as well, to extend the flowering season.
“And Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast rose from the dreams of its wintry rest” Percy Bysshe Shelley, ‘The Sensitive Plant’