Summer 3

Blackcaps and black cats, too many midges and a very small tragedy.

Saturday 4th July, 2015.

Not everything is lovely in the garden all the time. On Thursday morning we witnessed the last hour of the very brief life of a baby blue tit.

I was watching the birds on the feeder when I noticed one little ball of fluff that appeared to be sleeping on a peanut feeder perch.  It wasn’t trying to eat and didn’t react or beg for food when an adult blue tit perched nearby.

I was worried about it and kept a close watch.  When it dropped off the perch and fluttered to the ground I rushed out to pick it up because there have been predators in the area.  Last night this hunter was spotted under the feeder.  It was sleeping peacefully - until the resident mad old woman burst out of the kitchen door and chased it out of the garden.  I wasn’t sure whether it was waiting for birds or was after our wood mice - or both.

I held the little bird while Tim filled the sunflower seed feeders. A cat came lurking round the corner of the house but beat a hasty retreat - as soon as it saw us.  The blue tit was tiny - even by baby blue tit standards  - and was very young. The remnants of the yellow gape at the sides of the beak were still very obvious.

I wasn’t very optimistic about its chances of survival but I put it up in the bowl where it would be safe and would have a source of food if it was capable of eating - half hoping for a miracle.  

Then I went round the side of the house to photograph some roses and the next time I checked on the bird it was lying on its side. It was sad, but I consoled myself with the thought that death is an inevitable part of life and at least it had a peaceful end and the cat didn’t get it.

Then Tim came out to tell me that there was a blackcap outside the living room window again.  Due to a combination of defective hearing and paranoia about cats, I misheard and thought he was warning me of a black cat in the garden.  So I charged round the house and frightened the poor little bird away.  It isn’t the first time I have muddled blackcaps with black cats.

I have a tendency to run around the garden chasing cats and pheasants like an elderly, demented Jack Russell.  I sometimes wonder whether I would save myself a lot of trouble by investing in a real Jack Russell but then I think back to the Schipperkes.  When they were young they were quite prepared to chase cats and large birds for me but when they got older and I suggested a pheasant chase they just looked at me with an “Oh no - not again” expression and went back to sleep.  There are a few benefits in doing my own chasing.  It is good exercise and I do sometimes end up in parts of the garden that I seldom visit - like half way up the bank behind the summerhouse - and find some bracken or about-to-flower weeds that have been overlooked and need to be pulled out.

But, back to the rest of the week . . . there isn’t much to report about Sunday because I was recovering from staying up too late on Saturday night writing about last week’s highlights for the blog.  I am hoping to be more efficient this week, recording events as they occur, or at least at the end of each day.  This may  result in  the post having a mixture of tenses as I switch between past and present.  Sunday’s only noteworthy event was a visit from two red admirals.  They both looked in better condition than the one I photographed last week although this one had a bit missing from one wing.

On Monday morning we walked in Skyhill plantation.  It felt almost autumnal, damp and overcast.  The first toadstool had already appeared . . .

. . . and yellow leaves littered the path.  They weren’t proper autumn leaves - just old leaves from the holly and ivy which are shed when they put on a spurt of new summer growth.

But Monday’s big news was that our mouse was back.   I am fairly sure that we have two - a male and a female  although I haven’t seen them at the same time  Perhaps we can look forward to tiny wood mouse babies - cats permitting, of course.

Tim was surprised at how small today’s mouse was.  He had only seen the photos of the ones that I had seen earlier and it is impossible to judge sizes from photos without an accompanying ruler, traditional matchbox or old penny for comparison.  I often magnify the butterfly photos so that the details are clearer - and hope that anyone looking at the photo will realise that they are not life-size.  It would be difficult to get a live butterfly to pose with a ruler or matchbox, and anyway matchboxes seem to come in all different sizes these days.

We also saw a  baby blue tit on the peanut feeder pecking away vigorously.  Then an adult blue tit arrived, accompanied by another juvenile.  The first arrival lost interest in feeding itself and started quivering and begging for food.  Both babies were given a bit of peanut before they all flew away.

I thought the baby tits had arrived later than last year so I checked.  I was right - I photographed them three or four weeks earlier in 2014.  The great tits in our nest box fledged before the end of May last year.   This year the first juvenile tits to visit the feeder arrived late in June.  The young great tits, with their narrow chest stripes and less shiny black heads, and blue tits, with their yellow tinged cheeks, are easier to distinguish from the adults than the young coal tits which look rather similar to the adults.  And coal tits are such jittery little birds that they barely sit still long enough for me to get a really good look at them.

In the afternoon I started pulling out bluebell seedheads.  They have already seeded themselves all over the garden and I really don’t need any more seedlings.  The work came to an abrupt stop when a blackbird started scolding loudly.  It was on the other side of the hedge and I wasn’t sure whether I was the source of the annoyance or whether there was a cat in the next door garden.  When I moved away the scolding stopped.  So it must have been me.  I went up to dig creeping buttercups out of the daffodil bed in the back garden instead.  

Monday may have felt like autumn but Tuesday was definitely summer with a maximum temperature of 24 degrees - a heatwave for the Island!  The wind direction had changed and hot air was blowing in from the south east.  We did the usual shopping in Ramsey and, when we walked out of the Co op, it felt distinctly hotter outside than it had been in the shop.  This is the first time this has occurred this year.  We don’t have air conditioning in the shops in Ramsey, only heating in winter, so it is almost always warmer inside than outside.

I decided to mow the grass because the weathermen were forecasting and even hotter day on Wednesday.  It was windy when I started.  The wind must have been even stronger overnight because some small twiggy branches had blown off the ash and beech trees.  It  clouded over before I finished and the wind dropped so the midges emerged in force.   I had to put on my “fishing” hat with a fine mesh veil and finished mowing in a cloud of midges.

Wednesday was not as hot as expected.  The wind and sun came and went and so did the midges.  We chose to walk in Skyhill because it is shady but the sun didn’t shine for more than a few minutes while we were out. I took advantage of the overcast conditions to photograph a buttercup near the stream.   

I had written to a friend on Tuesday and told her “There is a bit of a lull in garden flowers now - just a lot of oxeye daisies and foxgloves plus a few rather wind-battered roses.”  But when we walked down the drive before our walk I saw that there was a big patch of campanula near the gate.

I decided to make a list of all the plants that are flowering now but it ended up so long that I gave up.  There are not many in full flower but when you add the ones that have nearly finished flowering and those with the first buds opening it adds up to a surprising number.  There are normal garden flowers like my beautiful, fragrant Gentle Hermione rose . . .

. . . and this peony.  Although the flowers are a bit too bright and brash for my taste, I can't help admiring their over the top, messy exuberance.

Then there are flowering trees like this Chilean lantern tree Crinodendron hookerianum . . .

. . . and shrubs like the Mock Orange Philadelphus

. . . and the wild flowers like this delicate slender St John’s wort hypericum  pulchrum which was difficult to photograph because there was too much glare when it was sunny and as soon as the light started to fade the flowers started to close.

. . .and a wide variety of approved weeds including these “fox and cubs” Pilosella aurantiaca glowing in the morning sun.  

When we returned home from Ramsey on Friday I saw a hummingbird hawkmoth feeding on the centranthus near the drive so I rushed inside, leaving Tim to carry the shopping into the house, and grabbed my camera.  I think this is the best of the photos.  Not great - but not bad considering the uncomfortable circumstances. Those moths move about fast and that part of the garden is swarming with hungry midges.

In the afternoon Tim found a bee in the living room.  I went outside and sure enough there were a few circling the chimney.  I think they were just scouting bees but we lit a small fire to discourage them from setting up home.  Tim went outside to watch while I started the fire and he didn’t see any bees flying out of the chimney.  Those which were “casing the joint” left quite soon.   So it appears that they hadn’t moved in yet.

Our recent bee problems paled into insignificance compared with the experience of a couple who live in an old cottage further down the glen.  They returned from holiday after TT to find “a huge number of very angry bees in their sitting room.”  Our neighbour wrote  “There appeared to be a nest in their chimney.  They got the Pest Control Officer the next morning who came and dealt with the problem with a smoke bomb.  He said they did not like killing honey bees but at the moment they have no choice.  Apparently there is a huge problem with nests and swarms and infestation of chimneys by bees in the Ramsey area.  They are dealing with dozens of call outs every day!”

It hasn’t been a great week for butterflies.   Just the two red admirals and a few speckled woods early in the week and three meadow browns and two green veined whites in the back garden in the afternoon while I was popping in and out to check the chimney for bees.

On Friday night the garden was battered by heavy thunder showers.  This morning the roses were drooping under the weight of their wet petals and the back lawn was littered with wild rose petals.  There is a popular story that George II described the British summer as “three fine days and a thunderstorm”.  Like most “information” it may or may not be true.  We had a few hot days this week and last night we had the thunder showers - so perhaps summer is over already!