What a busy few weeks! There is always lots to do in the garden, but the months of March and April seem busier than most due to the non-stop tasks of weeding, pruning and planting. The weather has been so mixed that I still dare not plant my seedlings outside and yet I am also watering more than usual - I hope this is not a consequence of global warming and a sign of things to come.
The garden birds and insects are oblivious to these concerns of course and are busying themselves with raising the next generation. The first of the ducklings have arrived and a lovely pair of thrushes have made their nest in a section of thick hedge which overhangs the river bank in our garden. The parent birds are constantly on the search for food and I watched today as they attempted to smash snail shells on some of the stones in our borders. The sharp crack, crack of breaking shells, followed by the chirping of baby birds when the parents returned to the nest, has drawn the attention of our cat Tilly, who still has the instinct to hunt, but fortunately is old enough to give up quickly, especially when berated by an angry parent if she gets too close to the nest.
In the skies above the garden, sunny spells have brought with them a huge number of red kites. We frequently see them flying over the house, but the numbers earlier this week seemed like the scene from a Hitchcock movie:
Scenes like the one above were a more common sight in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries when red kites were plentiful in the skies above our towns and cities, though our relationship with them has always been a little strained. Shakespeare referred to London as the "city of kites and crows" and warned of the bird's propensity to steal washing off lines in A Winter's Tale: "When the kite builds, look to lessen linen". Their numbers declined sharply with improved hygiene and better waste disposal, but a recent joint project by the RSPB and the Nature Conservancy Council has led to a very successful reintroduction of the species to the British Isles. Whether you welcome the sight, or see them as a troublesome menace, there is no doubting that they are magnificent birds.
The insects are also buzzing around the garden in ever-increasing numbers. There seems to be a particularly large number of ladybirds emerging from hibernation this year and I also noticed the first Peacock butterfly of the year this week. Later in the season, I hope they will be joined by large numbers of Red Admirals, most of which will have made the journey to our garden from Africa and continental Europe.
Fortunately, more flowers are appearing daily to entice the insect visitors to our garden. Of those currently blooming, the bluebell falls within my top ten of garden flowers. It has such a wildness and delicate beauty about it that it's no wonder it was also a favourite of Emily Bronte ("The bluebell is the sweetest flower that waves in summer air: Its blossoms have the mightiest power to soothe my spirit's care") and Tennyson ("like the blue sky breaking up through the earth").
Sadly, many of the bluebells that fill our gardens and woodland groves nowadays are the Spanish bluebell, which was introduced to the U.K. by the Victorians. I am keen to replace the bluebells in our garden with the native British variety, though I fear that will be a job for another year.
If you love bluebells as much as I do, the Evening Standard lists some of the top places to see them in the U.K: 18 magical places to see bluebells across the UK | London Evening Standard | Evening Standard
The Wildlife trusts also describes how you can differentiate between the Spanish and British varieties: Identify bluebells | The Wildlife Trusts
For those of you that prefer something with a little more status, I'll end with this image of a stunning Crown Imperial Fritillary (Fritillaria imperialis) that I saw recently. The flower looks decidedly regal, though it does have a lovely little secret; in the 1980s a scientist working at Cambridge University found that it is visited by birds as well as insects and that its chief pollinator is the humble little blue tit. Science: Bluetits pollinate the plants other creatures cannot reach | New Scientist:
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