Finally a break in all the rain. This December has been wetter than any I can remember, but today we've had a few hours of blue sky.
Over the last ten days the Cych has come over its banks three or four times, but so far the floodwater has mostly found its way back to the river. Taking a walk along the river this morning it was striking to see how much has been changed by the force of the water; tree boughs ripped clean off, log dams shifted and sections of bank eaten away.
It was good to see the sun, if only for an hour or two, and to see what has to be the first sign that spring's on the way. In places the soil has been scoured away by the floodwater to reveal clumps of snowdrop bulbs, each with a spike of green.
Back home I've been bringing in more wood for the fire, which is now a more time-consuming chore because each bit has to be checked for uninvited guests. On Christmas Day I brought a basketful of wood in and soon after we were chasing a wasp around the kitchen.
Drowsy at first, it was soon fully awake and ready for a fight. After a chase from room to room I caught it with a glass and took it out to the wood shed.
A second wasp turned up an hour or so later, but by then I was too busy with turkey and roast potatoes to go hunting. It turned up dead in the sink when the time came for washing up.
Now each log is getting the once over. I think it's better for both us and them that their sleep remains undisturbed.
For the first time in weeks it was quiet when I went out to the dustbin this morning. Nothing happening on the far side of the hedge, so presumably every scrap of apple has now been eaten.
Over the hedge opposite our back door there's an apple tree in our neighbour's garden and this year she left the crop untouched. At first blackbirds came to eat the fruit while it was still in the banches, but as time has gone on it has dropped to the ground and they've been spending all day, every day, feasting at ground level.
I've enjoyed hearing the sounds of them clucking to one another and rustling about in amongst the fallen leaves has been. Though it's been frustrating not to be able to see the party - the hedge is dense, dark Leylandii.
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| Photo: Adam Kumiszcza |
Then last week the change in the weather brought fieldfares to us for the first time and they joined the action. For the last few days the rustling and clucking stepped up a gear, but now all's quiet; have they eaten the lot?
Off on a bit of a tangent, I have to say that the latest State of the UK's Birds report makes depressing reading. It makes me feel ancient that species that were common-all-garden when I first started birdwatching as a child are now under threat.
The RSPB's Dr Mark Eaton says of the report "many of the birds we're referring to aren't rare and don't occur in
remote locations... they are ones you used to see while
walking the dog or enjoying a family picnic". We're all the poorer for allowing the change to go unchecked.
At last we've had a proper autumn day here. The tree colours have been pretty good for a week or so, but because of the rain the fallen leaves on the ground have been quickly turning to mush.
Dry leaves to scuff your feet through is part of the autumn experience, isn't it? But over the last few days the leaves have been drying out nicely and the scuff factor is finally on the up.
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| Field maple |
Back working on the hedges this afternoon I've been up a ladder again and that's given me the chance to do a bit of a leaf fall audit. The ash leaves are mostly gone already, stripped off the branches by the wind before their green had faded to yellow.
Across the valley the oaks still have their leaves in place and but they're now a rusty, red-brown. My hedges are mostly blackthorn and its leaves are now a striking, sun-catching lemon yellow that's almost as bright as the few field maples I put into the gaps a winter or two ago.
Ever get the feeling you're being watched? At last some decent weather here and this morning I've been up a ladder working on the hedge between us and the road.
Quite a long way up a ladder. Because we're on a hillside it takes the the ladder legs at full extension to get to grips with the top of the hedge and the legs have to be standing on a raised hedge bank.
So, I'm almost at jackdaw level; looking back towards the house I'm about where the gutter is. And as I've been working away with saw and secateurs I've been able to watch jackdaws coming and going.
They're are always around, or seem to be - on our chimney, our nextdoor neighbour's chimney or on the chimneys of one of the houses across the road.
This year they started to build a nest in our chimney, but I spotted one of the birds coming and going with sticks and got the chimney sweep in to put a new mesh cover on the chimney pot. When the chimney was swept enough sticks came out to fill a carrier bag.
There seems to be a lot going on in the jackdaw community just now. They're spending a lot of time on and around the chimneys that were used as nesting sites this year and 'speaking' to one another all the while.
One of these 'conversations' got very heated this morning and the two birds ended up fighting. Locked together in a pecking match the combatants fell together off the chimney and slid down the roof slates, still fighting.
It was only when they reached the gutter that they broke off from the fight. One of the two flew away, while the other sat for a moment looking a little shaken up.
Breeding pairs are the bedrock of jackdaw society. They pair up and, if all goes well, stay paired for life. This year's youngsters should be establishing these pair bonds around now, which is probably what all the jackdaw chat in our street is about today.
I've only myself to blame. I was given nine months to write the book I'm working on at the moment and should have paced things better.
I didn't, so it has become something of a scramble. It will get done, but only just (hope my publisher doesn't stumble on this blog...) What I hadn't been expecting was just how good the summer was going to be, and when the weather is as good as it was in July and early August the last thing you want to do is be in front of a computer, is it?
As a result things have been left undone. The garden has become very unkempt, the window frames didn't get painted and this blog has been left fallow.
But anyway, it was an incredible summer. I've dropped in here on my way to the kitchen to cook the corn cob I've just picked for my lunch. Yes, summer 2013 has taught me that I can grow sweetcorn in north Pembrokeshire.
All the effort I've put in over the last few years, has been wasted. And this year seed rotted in the chilly ground, but the plants I started under glass did keep going through a less-than-promising spring.
And they've loved the heat, which means I've a nice little crop of corn to enjoy this autumn. Off to lunch - and, promise to self, more posts.
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| Photo: RSPB/Jim Nesbit |
I love this picture. It came to me today on a emailed press release from the RSPB and made me smile. The golf bag had been left unused in a garage, which had offered the robins the opportunity to move in.
They were left in peace and have raised five young apparently. Of course, press realeases usually have a message and this one was 'selling' the RSPB's 'Giving Nature a Home' campaign.
It has the target of signing up a million people to making wildlife-friendly improvements to their garden, like adding birdboxes, building log piles and giving the lawn mower a rest. I've signed up to convert my front lawn to a wildflower meadow.
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| Photo: vogelart.info |
It feels a little like our summer has been
and gone here in Pembrokeshire. This week has been grey and dull. So, it’s a
little depressing to know that summer’s birds are already beginning to head
south.
The BTO’s cuckoo tracking project is
reporting on the progress of their radio tagged birds and apparently some have
already crossed to Europe. The first to go was a bird they have called Sussex,
which left England for France last week.
Since then more have gone and as of
yesterday five of the 13 cuckoos had left the UK. They’ve gone to Belgium,
France and Germany, while Sussex is now 100 miles or so from Rome. You can
follow their progress on the BTO website here.
