Bird song

I usually work at home 3 days a week. However, for the last month I've been working at home all the time. I haven't missed the mega commute, crawling out of bed at 5:30 am, or the transport version of Russian roulette known as the Uckfield line. One thing I do regret is not hearing the early morning birds. At this time of year, at about 6:00 am, I can expect to hear a number of robins as I walk through Manor Park. each seems to come into focus as I walk into and then through its territory.

That said, as the days lengthen, I've been hearing more birds, albeit at a more civilized hour. At 7:30 this morning, I scurried out to grab a picture of the sky just before the sun rose.  The scene was like something out of of a Hitchcock movie. Birds were flitting almost furtively about. The rather sinister silhouettes of starlings were all around me on wires and branches.

Starlings are perched in the tree as well as on the wire.

Then there was the noise. More of a dawn shout up than a dawn chorus. Fortunately we have more melodious visitors. One of my favourites right now is a coal tit, which sits about half way up the birch tree and sings it's see-saw sing. It seems unbelievable that such a small bird can sing so loudly. I'm not an expert on bird song but I've been able to match our garden birds to the sounds they make by watching them while they sing or looking them up in the RSPB's Bird Guide, which has a short recording for each species.

Two foxes

I've had the Bushnell trail camera out again. This time we had a very foxy night.  I believe we have two different foxes here. The first, in the top picture, is quite compact and fluffy looking, with dark ears and a thick, straight brush. It first appeared at 6:37 on Friday evening and sniffed round the grassy area, before disappearing 10 minutes later. The second, a somewhat leggier animal with a small downward dip at the end of its brush triggered the camera at :7:03 pm and again at just after 3 the next morning.

Foxes at Feb, 1 at 6.47 pm and Feb 2 at 3:05 am.

I don't know anything about the relationship between these two animals. They both spent some time sniffing round the same area but at different times. I can't even guess the genders. Male and female foxes are very similar except for size, the male being about 5 cm (2 inches) longer nose to tail tip than the female. It is possible that the more compact fox is one of last year's litter. 

This is the time of year when foxes mate. A few years ago I had the incredible experience of seeing two males wrestling on our front path while the female they were competing for looked on. They were on their hind legs with front paws on each others' shoulders. It looked exactly like they were waltzing.

So are my two foxes potential mates, rivals, or parent and cub? I can't guess at this point but I can keep watching.

Tracks in the Snow

Finally the wildlife has turned up. Usually there is a gap of a few days after the snow starts before the wildlife ventures into our garden. This time has been no exception. It first snowed on Friday and Monday night we start seeing wildlife. 

At about 7 pm mum put out the milk bottles and saw a stately fallow buck by the hedge at the bottom of the garden. It sauntered casually out of the garden onto the Dene.

At 11 pm, just as I was going to bed, something tripped the security light. A fox was investigating our front garden. It listened intensely for a few moments, dug, listened again and so on. Had it heard something under the snow?

A trail where the fox circled round and dug in the snow. 21 January 2013.

6.45 am I looked popped out to get a photo of the fox trail. Two lovely fallow bucks glided out of the garden onto the Dene. As they left our milkman arrived. He says that he often sees deer on the Dene and Browns Lane. So Manor Park drivers watch out, Bambi's about.

Hello Brock

The thing that I really love about using a trail camera is the sense of opening a surprise gift. What will be in it? A fox? A cat? A couple of birds? Connecting it up to my lappie to download the photos, I feel like a small child on Christmas morning. Today's gifts were extra special. A couple of nice sequences of a fox, a pair of cheeky magpies and some rather self important looking woodpigeons. Then - the badger. 

Badger, 16th January 2013 just before 2 a.m.. -3 C

I was amazed. I had assumed that badgers would be tucked up in their setts on these cold winter evenings.  Instead here it is snuffling round our grass.  Maybe it's looking for worms, which form a large part of a badger's diet. It looks quite plump. Maybe it has benefited from the mild wet weather.

The sap is rising

Winter is, of course, a wonderful time of year for seeing the shapes of trees. As we get past the solstice, the bare branches seem to take on a coloured sheen. The trees in Lime Tree Avenue acquire a ruby glow while the tall birch trees in the garden take on a rather regal purple. Look closer and you will see fat buds and tightly packed catkins packed with the promise of spring.

Lime tree bud - like a ruby amongst the dark branches.

In the garden, winter jasmine, witch hazel, snowdrops and primroses are giving us much needed colour. We do seem to have some unseasonal activity. The big bumble bee we found in the conservatory the other day seemed rather confused and the stray flower buds on the hydrangeas are just wrong.

Although the days are lengthening, we can expect more cold weather. As the anticipataed cold snap approaches we are seeing more of the birds that visit our garden. Within a few minutes I saw about half a dozen blue tits, a blackbird and a song thrush near our bird table.

Blue tit - one of a small flock we see regularly in the garden.

If it does snow or freeze, we will keep putting food out for the birds and, perhaps more importantly, water too.

This train of thought was fired up by Judith Christian-Carter's Facebook Post and associated comments. .

The whole fox

Finally, after getting a head and a tail, the trail camera bags me the whole fox.  The following sequence comprises four images taken over about 20 seconds.

Fox investigating Oak Shades at about 10pm on a January evening. 

We have been hearing odd, almost metallic sounding barks.  A post from WRAS tells us

"The Foxes do bark and call at this time of year when vixens are on heat, as they search for each other, studies have shown vixen try to advertise that they are on heat and try to mate with numerous foxes rather than just one. The noise is short term and stops fairly quickly."

Exit left pursued by .... ?

In the day our garden belongs to people. We plant flowers and trees, mow the lawns, trim the hedges and pause to admire the results of our efforts. As the light fades and we draw the curtains, the late shift begins. The garden is now owned by the creatures of the night. Often the morning brings foot or hoof prints, a nibbled plant here or some poo there. It's very intriguing and at the same time a little frustrating. Unless the creatures are considerate enough to walk in front of the window when I'm awake and looking out, I can't see what is happening.

Because I was such a good girl last year, Santa brought me a trail camera. I haven't really had a chance to play with it yet because of the incessant rain. Last night was the first time I felt that I could put it out without it getting drowned.  

 Exit left, pursued by a ???

I've got so much to learn about using this type of camera and this set of pictures was spoilt by shiny holly leaves reflecting infrared light back into the camera.  Next time I use it, I will take more care about tidying unwanted leaves.  That said, I'm now able to start building up a record of our night visitors. The first set of images show a fox disappearing behind the holly bush and, a couple of minutes later, fleeing.  I don't know what startled it - but I do know that I can now start to uncover the secrets of our night garden.

Seeing in the new year - with a fox.

My name is Wendy and I am using this blog to make notes about the wildlife I and others encounter near my home in Uckfield, Sussex in England.

The new year starts with one of my more embarrassing wildlife encounters. I frightened a fox. I didn't mean to. It just happened.  It was just after midnight on New Year's day and I was standing on the front path washing down others' celebration fireworks with a glass of champagne. Fireworks were going off left, right and centre. All sorts of sounds, shapes and colours.  In the odd pauses, I could hear the church bells ringing in the new year. Then a fox sauntered round the hedge, apparently unfazed by the noise and activity. Until he saw me. Then he fled across the garden and into the holly bush as if the hounds of hell were chasing him. The sight of me in my nightwear has that affect on people.

Later in the day - and somewhat more suitably dressed, I spent some time tidying the garden.  There is a fine line between a wildlife-friendly garden and chaos. Right now, ours is perilously close to that line.  I left the seedheads for the birds but cleared old stalks and debris. As a reward I found some early primroses. The name translates as "first flower", which is rather apt for this new year treat.