Magical creatures
AN APPRECIATION OF THE ERMI NE STOAT
Turning white for winter. As transformations go, it’s dramatic. And almost unique: just one other British mammal – the mountain hare – does the same. For the stoat, changing colour helps it to hide in snow-covered countryside, enabling it to stalk prey unseen and, in turn, evade enemies of its own, such as eagles and foxes. A pale coat may also be warmer: a lack of pigment means there’s more room for pockets of air that provide extra insulation. The transition, triggered by shorter days and falling temperatures, is often gradual, but the creature’s autumn colours are eventually replaced by a ghostly winter wardrobe.
Not all stoats have the ability to turn white, however. In the UK, only those animals in the more mountainous areas of Scotland and northern England, where snowfall is protracted, possess the gene required to make the change. Across the rest of the country and in Ireland, stoats remain the same shade of gingery-brown year-round. Except, that is, for the ends of their tails. In all stoats, whether they transition to white or not, the tail tip is always black.
Ermine – as the stoat’s white fur is known – has long been a symbol of purity and was once the trimming of choice for ceremonial costumes. The robe made for George VI’s coronation in 1937, subsequently worn by the Queen at her coronation, was sewn together from a staggering 50,000 ermine skins, the dark tail-tips creating the gown’s distinctive dotted pattern.
No longer targeted for their pelts, but still persecuted by some gamekeepers, stoats are common, but seldom seen. A typical sighting – and the only kind I’ve ever enjoyed – is of a slim, long body bounding across a country lane, quickly slipping back undercover. Sleek and stealthy, they hunt along hedgerows, ditches and drystone walls for rabbits and rodents. An adult rabbit – up to five times the size of the stoat – is no match, and it’s doggedly chased down and swiftly dispatched with a bite to the neck. Fast and ferocious, these slinky carnivores are natural born killers.
For most of the year, stoats lead solitary lives. Males and females only come together in summer to breed, but, via a clever biological trick known as delayed implantation, their litter of six to twelve kits isn’t born until the following spring, when food is more plentiful. A rabbit burrow is often taken over as a nest site and sometimes, in a somewhat macabre manner of nursery decor, lined with the fur of the former occupants.
Turning white for winter only makes sense if it snows, of course. In the ermine stoat’s range, a warming climate means snow is now arriving later, melting earlier or even failing to arrive at all. No longer camouflaged, a whitefurred animal stands out like a sore thumb against a landscape of browns and greens. Without the need to replace its coat, the ermine stoat may become a relic of a lost time. In an ever-changing world, we must do all we can to preserve this little piece of nature’s magic.
Come in from the cold and indulge in an hour or two of armchair gardening. One of my favourite spots in winter is curled up by the fire, a mug of tea and a pile of seed catalogues to hand, making hopeful lists of the fruit and flowers I’d like to grow. A little dreaming and planning while the new year is young means every season in the garden brings something exciting to look forward to. The anticipation is joyful and it brings almost as much joy as the gardening itself.
In my small courtyard garden, every plant has to work hard to earn its place, so I’m always looking at how well each variety thrives, both for me and the wildlife. Keeping a notebook for ideas, sketches and recording plant names is useful – and a great excuse for new stationery.
Think about how your garden develops through the year, what might be missing in different seasons and plan to fill those gaps. Might you like abundant flowers in spring, to grow some cut flowers in summer, or have more autumnal colour? This year my plans include adding a greengage tree to my raised bed mini-orchard, expanding my potted cut flower patch and creating more habitats for beetles.
Observing your garden, through drawings, writing or the lens of a camera, is a wonderful way to appreciate the little things, from the way the sunlight dances on the pond’s surface to the first buds of apple blossom unfurling.
Gardening courses are also good. Book now, as they usually start up again in spring, and hone your practical gardening skills, such as no-dig gardening or rose pruning. Or maybe you’d like to use your garden as artistic inspiration by learning a new craft such as willow weaving, sketching, floristry or cyanotype printing?
• If you can’t wait for spring, consider planting a shrub or tree from which you can cut budding branches to flower inside. Ornamental (and edible) cherry trees are good, or try cheery yellow forsythia, pussy willow or magnolia (Magnolia stellata is good for smaller gardens). Many will start to produce roots in the vase, so you can pot them up once the indoor display is finished.
• Mid-winter is a good time to set up your stall for spring. If you’d like to nurture more plants from seeds, now’s the time to build or buy a mini-greenhouse, cold frame and potting bench or shelves to house your trays of seedlings. These are a good investment because growing from seed is such a thrifty way to fill your garden.
• Choose some biennial plants from seed catalogues, ready to sow this spring and summer for early colour next year. Hardy varieties such as foxgloves, aquilegias and Angelica sylvestris are all cottage garden favourites. Biennials grow on a two-year cycle; the first year they establish foliage and store energy, enabling them to flower the next year. While some may self-seed (such as foxgloves), others need to be grown from seed each year for a continuous display.
• Explore websites of gardens you’ve always wanted to visit and make a date for the spring when most re-open. While there, take note of the flowering bulbs you like then add a reminder to your calendar to order them in late summer and plant in the autumn.