Wordless Wednesday: Strange Goings-On At The Bird Feeder

The Garden Nursery

When I was six years old, I loved to tiptoe quietly into the garage to peek at the silhouettes of baby blue tits in the bird box my dad had built into our garage wall. The back of the box was glazed and covered with brown paper which gave the birds a sense of privacy while allowing us the opportunity to see something of their lives. My dad died the following spring, but the seeds of my fascination with the natural world were already sown.

Nowadays we don’t need to head into the garage to see silhouettes of chicks in a nest. For Christmas I received a bird box with a camera in it. I suspect that the gift is part of a cunning plan to encourage domesticity as the nesting box is sited directly opposite the kitchen window under which there is a sink. Since the sink is required to fill the kettle, the domesticity plan has backfired to the point that far from motivating me to attempt kitchen chores, there has been a significant increase in the quantity of time I spend sitting down. I have always drunk coffee on the hoof, but if there is any activity around the bird box while I am filling the kettle, I fire the remote at the television, plonk myself into a chair and ogle the nest while enjoying a lovely warm drink and wondering what Dad would have thought of this wireless camera bird box. 

The nest taking shape

The most astonishing accomplishment of this piece of technology is that it has caught the attention of my own offspring. Instead of the usual fare they enjoy on television, they have been spotted watching nature. Out of choice! Surely this is a healthy form of screen time?

Feathering the nest

From the comfort of the kitchen we have also been watching over a mother who hatched 11 ducklings. The nest is in the lavender which I have yet to cut back after flowering last year. I don’t cut back plants until spring because of the shelter they offer to minibeasts. I hadn't considered that the same plants might offer shelter to much larger creatures. Of course, my lavender tends to fall apart more quickly than it would had I shorn it after flowering, but it is easy to strike cuttings so I always have a ready supply. The courtyard where the ducklings hatched is a former boar pen. In the two years since it was converted into a garden, 22 ducklings have made their way into the world under the cover of the plants.

The garden feels like a dating disco. Our feathered friends are busily pairing off and doing the bird equivalent of The Birdie Song while dancing around their handbags, or in the case of Mr & Mrs Pheasant, tiptoeing through the tulips, (aptly named Tulipa 'Night Club'). At this rate - and with any luck - we will be inundated with offspring!

Mrs P doesn't look impressed. 
Perhaps she doesn't like the tulips.

There is a baby boom in my office too. Since I don't have a greenhouse, the office floor must double up as a nursery. Butternuts, tomatoes, peppers and Cosmos are jostling for light and waiting impatiently to fledge. It is hardly the ideal start for a plant, but they are safer indoors than in the cold frames where they would become frazzled with frost in no time. I rather like sharing my office with them; I only wish that the greenfly hadn't followed them in. The office greenfly are clearly very happy with the food and shelter on offer as they are procreating like it is going out of fashion. One solution will be to bring in the ladybirds. This is all putting a most unlikely slant on the notion of a busy day at the office. 

I am joining with Wildlife Wednesday at https://mygardenersays.com/ Why not pop over there, grab a drink and spend some time marvelling at the wildlife in gardens around the globe?

Sowing Seeds for Wildlife and the Trouble with Hummingbirds

Seed catalogues should come with a health warning for wallets. A packet of seeds costs very little, but how often do we disappear into the magical world of glossy plant photos and find ourselves in a parallel universe where we have endless time to garden and limitless growing space? Even if our gardening lives were perfect, we would probably still be faced with a space/time dilemma if every flower, fruit and vegetable we desired leapt from the page and onto the credit card. Consequently, this time of year, which is normally associated with excess in the eating and drinking department, is a time for exercising restraint as a gardener. I am not fond of exercising - be it in a gym or restraint on the plant front - so as a reward for my sporadic gym attendance, I allow myself a little light indulgence in the form of two packets of I've-never-tried-these-before seeds per year.

Seeds purchased in one year cannot qualify as newbies the following year, so if they are any good, they are automatically transferred to the regular seed purchase list, thereby allowing space for two more packets of newbies. A problem arises if all the newbies turn out to be goodies. A decade of two successful new must-haves annually equates to twenty new seed packets in ten years (my maths genius knows no bounds). Add these seeds to those which have become essentials over the previous years of your gardening life and you have a whole load of seed packets (I am not even going to risk guessing your age, but please feel free to do your own calculation). 

Pollinator magnet Eschscholzia californica

Of course, if a plant is a consummate self-seeder, all is good and well. We buy it once and enjoy it forever. Cerinthe major falls into this category and if you have never grown it, I really recommend that you add it to your wishlist if your conditions suit. I posted about it here http://blog.thompson-morgan.com/high-value-low-cost-plants-cerinthe-major-purpurascens

Pollinator magnet Cerinthe major 'Purpurascens'

A plant which has seeded itself into the buy-once-enjoy-forever category in recent years is pollinator magnet extraordinaire, Echium vulgare ‘Blue Bedder’. Bright blue flowers emerge from pink buds and turn magenta as they fade. These breathtakingly beautiful flowers adorn bristly stems from June until at least October (by at least, I mean that they are still in flower in December this year). 

Pollinator magnet Echium vulgare 'Blue Bedder'

A dry, sunny spot suits 'Blue Bedder' perfectly. It copes near the coast, looks wonderful in a cottage garden style planting and is happy in a container. It is at home mingling with grasses and contrasts well with the soft foliage and sulphur yellow flowers of Alchemilla mollis. Sow it indoors in February and March or direct from March to May, after which, hopefully, you will not have to buy it again. It self-seeds in my garden, but not so much that I have to compost excess plants.

Echium vulgare - or viper's bugloss - is classed as a noxious weed in certain areas of the world. Here in the UK some farmers don’t like it as it can seed into fields where it puts its roots down deeply. ‘Blue Bedder’ is an annual viper's bugloss which at 45cm, is more compact and bushy than the viper's bugloss we see growing in gravel pits and along roadsides. It is hugely attractive to bees, butterflies and moths and I have read that it is a hummingbird magnet. If only we had hummingbirds in the UK... not that you would see a great photo of one if we did. I have an extensive collection of photographs of plants which a hummingbird has just left. The best I have ever managed is this. Look closely, it is there, although it might very well be a sparrow for all the detail you can see. Pitiful, isn’t it?

I am linking this post to Wildlife Wednesday which is hosted by Tina at http://mygardenersays.com/ . Do please take a trip over there to marvel at the wonderful wildlife in gardens around the planet. I guarantee that this hummingbird photo will be the worst one you will see in the whole meme *hangs head in shame.

Evolving Gardeners

Anyone who has ever caught a tube train in London will know that even if there is barely a square inch of floor showing in a carriage, some twinkle-toed commuter will pop their feet onto it and we will all squeeze a little closer to accommodate those parts of their body which are broader than their little toe, because there is no such thing as a full tube train. In much the same way, there is no such thing as a full garden border. The plant lover will always find room to squeeze in one more must-have plant which has leapt unbidden into the shopping trolley. I have the same problem with books. Thankfully, the introduction of e-readers has alleviated the shelf space issues caused by my fiction habit, but when it comes to gardening books, I am old-school.

The trouble with gardening books, lovely though they are, is that gardening advice changes over time. Crocks in pots are now a thing of the past; tree planting holes have changed shape; and what was once a weed might now have developed into a deeply desired wildflower. One of the most significant changes in my lifetime is the way in which we put a garden to bed for winter. Once upon a time, I might have left leaves and stems only on borderline hardy plants as a means of protection during the colder months; now I leave the stems on all of the perennials. The closest I get to an autumn tidy is harvesting the leaves off lawns and paths for my favourite crop from the garden (at least, until I work out how to grow chocolate bars) - leafmould. 

Teasel

For me, cutting back plant stems at this time of year is an opportunity lost. I care about the wildlife in my garden. Offering protection in the form of these stems is not a hardship for me, but it could mean the world to seed-eating birds or to minibeasts and (sadly for the little critters) those creatures further up the food chain who feed upon them. Before I took the decision to garden with wildlife in mind, I had started to leave a few seedheads in place, simply for the pleasure of their company over winter and to see them donning their frosty hats on a cold January morn. 

Echinops

My favourite task in the garden is cutting back spent flower stems in spring. I don’t compost them immediately; I leave them stacked neatly for a few days to give any wildlife the opportunity to move on. In spring, plants may be already coming back into growth; certainly there is barely any time to wait until fresh foliage emerges and bulbs begin to bloom. I find cutting back in autumn depressing as the tidied-up plants will not be back in growth until next year. Cutting back in spring is exhilarating because we can see something new emerging; we have something to look forward to!

Cutting back in Spring

If you are thinking about cutting back your perennials now, why not try resisting the urge? Hang up the secateurs and do something filled with hope for a new season, like planting bulbs or sowing seeds. I understand that tidy gardeners might struggle with the idea of not cutting back, but placed in the right spot, perhaps with repetition further along the border, seedheads are structurally interesting and can make pleasing design sense. You never know, if you take a chance and leave the stems, a new seedhead design opportunity might present itself. When you cut back the plants in spring, you can seize the moment to divide, replant and create your new scheme. Then you will be able to enjoy the fruits of your labours through summer, autumn and winter, while at the same time offering shelter to minibeasts; and it won't have cost you a penny.


I am linking this post with Wildlife Wednesday at http://mygardenersays.com  Why not pour yourself a drink and saunter over there to see some fabulous photos of the diverse wildlife to be found in gardens around our beautiful planet?

Gardening for Wildlife in a Courtyard

Sometimes a place looks as inhospitable to wildlife as it is possible to be. When I started work on converting a boar pen into a courtyard last year, there was little to recommend it to our wilder friends. 

You can just see our front door on the right. Welcoming, isn't it?

The 17th century threshing barn which formed one wall to the boar pen was converted into our home, and the farmyard is in the process of becoming a garden. A biodiversity survey undertaken prior to the build concluded rather damningly that "this barn site proved to have quite a low Biodiversity presence and potential". I immediately decided that I would garden with wildlife in mind to see if it could make a difference.

Looking down from the barn to the courtyard. The doors lead
 to piggeries (now rooms)

I did wonder if a courtyard was capable of attracting much wildlife. This area is treated like part of our house as there are rooms around it which all require access. Paving is a necessity here, but it didn't all need to be paved so some concrete was removed to create borders.  

                  Spring 2015

Having barrowed in a load of topsoil, I popped in plants which would be particularly attractive to pollinators; and guess what? The plants did their job. Walking along the garden path is a joy because of all the butterflies and bees. 

I might have selected plants for pollinators, but other wild friends had their own ideas. Acanthus mollis proved to have broad wildlife credentials. A magnet for pollinators in summer and a hiding place for minibeasts in autumn (I don't cut back the flower stems as they make superb bug hotels), it also provided valuable cover for this young lady who hatched 11 ducklings under its lush foliage.

The courtyard now has a rather splendid resident newt and we are being visited by an increasing number of birds, including a cheeky pied wagtail which frequently perches on my office door handle. 

This is a very new garden. I still haven't finished planting it, yet it is already attracting a range of creatures. The farmyard might once have had quite a low biodiversity presence, but even the most unlikely places can become a haven for wildlife.

Lavandula x intermedia 'Sussex' in the courtyard

I am linking this post to Wildlife Wednesday at http://mygardenersays.com/ Why not pop over there to see some beautiful photos of wildlife in gardens elsewhere on our wonderfully diverse planet?