Baby frogs and lammas leaves

The frogs spawned late, about the 6th of March and then we had a blackthorn winter. After the snow and ice had cleared the spawn looked rather sick and wrinkled. After not seeing any tadpoles I gave up hoping for young frogs this year. On the 20th of July I was delighted to see a hand full of froglets scrambling round the bottom of the kingcups.

Lammas growth, photographed on July 21st

At this time of year we see a flush of new growth on our oak tree. Unlike the acid green new foliage that first appears in spring this is red tinged. These leaves grow around Lammas day, August 1, which is the festival of the wheat loaf (Anglo-Saxon hlaf-mas, "loaf-mass"). Lammas growth appears in a variety of tree species. According to Wikipedia

This secondary growth may be an evolutionary strategy to compensate for leaf damage caused by insects during the spring.

After the manic spring breeding season, July and August always feel like a time when not much is happening in the garden but subtle changes are still happening and are worth looking out for.

Macbeth and wildlife - SPOILER ALERT

I was inspired to write this post by the National Theatre Live production of Macbeth at the Picture House, Uckfield. As I watched Kenneth Branagh and others doing their stuff, I was struck by the number references to wildlife and the forces of nature in Shakespeare's text. The Picture House at Uckfield is going to be showing some encore performances. If you are planning on going, don't read this - it is full of SPOILERS.

The first line of the play is the stage direction:

Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches.

Throughout the play, foul weather foretells foul deeds. The line introduces the scene which the three witches decide on the meeting that fires and corrupts Macbeth's ambition. They end by chanting:

all: Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air.

The good King Duncan of Scotland and his thanes win a battle and they return to Macbeth's castle. The King and Banquo see swallows (called Martlets) and regard them as a symbol of the wholesome air of Macbeth's family seat and, by implication, of the Thane himself.

Banquo: This guest of summer, the temple-haunting martlet, does approve
By his lov'd mansionry that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, 
Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird 
Hath made her pendent bed and procreant cradle.
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ'd 
The air is delicate

In Sussex, we are familiar with martlets as they appear on the Sussex coat of arms.

But the the fair air of Macbeth's castle is already being corrupted by the witches' prophesy of Macbeth becoming King. Lady Macbeth had already interpreted a raven's crowing as predicting the death of the King under her roof. As Macbeth murders the King, she hears an owl shriek and rejoices because it foretells death.  Mercifully the hooting of the Tawny owls that I hear coming from Views (Williams) wood means nothing worse than an early start to a long commute.

After the murder is discovered, an old man talks to one of the King's noblemen outside Macbeth's castle.

Old Man: 'Tis unnatural, 
Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
Ross: And Duncan's horses - a thing most strange and certain - 
Beautous and swift, the minions of their race,
Turned wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
War with mankind
Old Man: 'Tis said they eat each other.
Ross: They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,

Here the owl represents Macbeth and the falcon, the King. In the exchange about horses, minion means favourite and the suggestion is that the Macbeths, who had been favoured by the king, turned on him and would eventually destroy each other.

At the beginning of Act 4, the witches are once more chanting in darkness and thunder. They chant about many animals from the humble "hedge pig" to the exotic baboon - and of course the famous:

Frog hiding from 2nd Witch

2nd Witch: Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

We are privileged to have frogs living in our garden. At this time of year, bats do a very nice job of keeping insects under control as they swoop in front of our windows. I would be grateful if everyone refrained from turning them into a charm.

In his guilt, Macbeth becomes a terrible tyrant, hunting down all who may threaten him. Macduff flees Scotland. His wife asks their little boy how he might live without his father and the boy sweetly refers to living as birds do. He doesn't get the chance, because Macbeth has the whole family slaughtered. When Ray Fearon's Macduff finds out, his grief steals the show as he laments over the loss of his "pretty chickens" and calls Macbeth a "hell kite".

The nobles corner Macbeth and he fights to the bitter end:

Macbeth: They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
But bear-like I must fight the course.

So there he is. In the course of 2 and a half electrifying hours Macbeth changes from a man whose honourable home was good enough for the fussy swallow to one who was compelled to fight to the death like a wounded bear tied to a stake.

Reference: Information about birds from the Birds theme of Shakespeare Navigators.

A funny place to find a nest

In an earlier post, I mentioned the blue tits and blackbirds nesting in our garden. We know that the blue tits nest in the box at the back of the house but have never tracked down a black bird nest, even though we regularly see babies around the garden and get considerable abuse when working in certain parts of the garden.

Young blackbird sunbathing on wall, 2011

When pruning the pyracantha that wraps around the front of the house I found a nest.  From the information in How to Identify Garden Bird Nests, I decided that it was most likely a blackbird nest.  It was about 1.5 m off the ground and the cup was 10cm across.

Nest built between branches and down pipe.

Neatly woven grass

I don't know if the nest was actually used. It is in a crazy position, between the wall of my bedroom and the front path. I would have thought that someone would have noticed birds there. That said, there have been loads of blackbirds around the front garden this year, so maybe they have used that nest.

A wild patch in an Uckfield garden

I'll confess that parts of our Manor Park garden are rather dishevelled. This is partly by design - we want a wildlife friendly garden. It's partly by accident - we don't always keep up with the weeding and tidying. This year, the late spring seemed to compress gardening time to just a few short weekends. One of the areas that has minimal attention is the wild patch. Usually I act as a referee between competing plants, so the more vigorous ones don't swamp the others and encroaching grass is kept firmly in its place. This year, I blatantly gave up.

The wild patch

The result is a riot of yellow common bird's foot trefoil and common St John's-wort, shocking pink bloody cranesbills, red valerian and many, many more wild and wildlife-friendly plants. The grass that I usually remove has added a golden fuzz of seedheads between and above the flowers. The wildlife loves it too. The patch is full of bees, beetles, moths and butterflies.  Some larger visitors nibble the vegetation and weave their way through the long grass.  In the last few nights we have had a visiting badger, deer and fox. The foxes and the badger seem to have made quite well worn paths in the long grass. The following photos show these animals slightly away from the patch because once they are in it, they are partly hidden from view.

A badger trundles across the slope just below the wild patch

A fallow deer browses for tasty plants.

A fox trots through the grass

Repelling the pink alien invaders

Yep, It's balsam bashing again. I appreciate that this has been a regular topic on this blog, but removing balsam from the Hempstead Meadows Nature Reserve has dominated my Saturday mornings for the last 6 weeks. This week was particularly rewarding as Matt (the local ranger) had rounded up about half a dozen of us including Lee and Josh, who each managed to pull as much as the rest of us put together. It was the usual routine of identifying the balsam, pulling it out and leaving it by the side of the path to dry.

An armful of Himalayan balsam

All the plants in the reserve are growing tall now making it difficult to get at some of the balsams. A thick sea of nettles and other plants on the North side of the path prevented us from getting to some that are already in flower. If we can't get to them before they seed, there will be many more to pull up next year.

This sort of task day, for Hempstead Meadow and Uckfield's other green spaces looks to become a regular feature of town life. I find it tremendously satisfying work and it is a real antidote to a working life spent hammering away at a computer keyboard. If you feel like getting involved, ask Matt to put you on the email list.

As an aside, on the way home, I saw two young robins searching for food at the South end of Lime Tree Avenue. They have the same rounded shape as the adults but not the red breast.

Now at home and chilling out after fighting the alien invador. What should I watch? Doctor Who or War of the Worlds?

June 2013 - Garden Visitors

Below, I've summarised the visits in the camera captured during the 14 nights I had my Bushnell Trail camera out in June. I've allocated each visit to a 2 hour slot as shown below.

Animal visits while the camera was out in June 2013

 
This month's score (12 excluding cats) is much better than May's 6. The peak is happening earlier  - 9 to 1 rather than slightly later in the morning but the mix of species is about the same as before May's dip in results.  A pair of fox cubs have been seen in the garden but, naturally, did not walk in front of the camera.

Badger trundling up the slope.

It it always lovely to see the badgers trundling round the garden. They have been making distinct paths in the long grass. Other field signs (yes - I mean poo) have indicated several visits by deer.