Regal buttercups on Jubilee day
There are times when my bird feeders are empty for several days. The lack of nuts in particular has members of the tit family confused, and infuriates the greater spotted woodpeckers.
I like to think that the large family of tits that feeds here is the one that managed to evade the visitation of the cat with murder in mind.
The woodpeckers only have one offspring that arrives with them and is now big enough to muscle in and behave like a rather bad-tempered teenager. Unlike the tits, who just give up and quietly go and find somewhere else to feed, none of these three can
quite accept that there really are no nuts and continue to peck savagely at the empty containers. One of these days I’m sure they’re going to bend their beaks. When they do give up, they sometimes sit on top of the arbour and have a go at that instead.
Once the nuts are back they all return within hours, tucking in as though they haven’t eaten anything for weeks. It makes me wonder whether I am actually doing them any favours feeding them throughout the year; am I discouraging them from looking for the natural food that’s all around?
Chattering House Martins
On the subject of birds, can anyone tell me why house martins chatter so much while they build their nests and the female first sits on it?
Generally speaking, there are very few other birds that announces their whereabouts to all and sundry whilst doing the most important thing in their lives. It seems a bit daft – for most other birds it is a quiet, secretive business so that the mother bird and her babies won’t be found by predators.
Perhaps they know they can chat away like that because they are quite confident that nothing can get at them in their chosen position close to the overhang of a roof.
Sanfoin
One day at the end of June, Genevieve and I went for a trip down the local lanes to see how many flowers were out. I found thirty two.
Thirty one of them were those that I expected to find, but in a gateway, amongst a froth of dog daisies and yellow vetch, there was quite a large stand of Sanfoin.
It is tall and spiky with pink, pea-like flowers growing up the stem. It is an interesting plant. First introduced to this country around the 16th century, it soon naturalised and became fodder for sheep, cattle, and horses.
It has lots of good properties for all sorts of animals, but if I go on about those I could find myself straying into unknown territories of non-bloating, gas, worming and parasites. It usually grows on chalky terrain but there isn’t much of it round here. Janie told me that the late Rosemary Julius had once owned the two fields beyond this gateway and it was never cultivated in her lifetime. I understand that it never has been since.
It makes me wonder what other treasures grow beyond the gate.
Jubilee Party
On the morning of the village Jubilee Party, I went out on Genevieve.
I had no intention of joining the party because I didn’t think Genevieve and I would do very well amongst 300 people, but I did want to see how it was going to be set up, meet friends who I knew I would see down there busy doing their bit, and getting a sense of the excitement of the day. I went via The Wheel so that I could see as much of the village as possible, dressed for the occasion with bunting and flags.
It had rained in the night and scents of wet earth wafted around me as I went along Cat Lane and onto the top road, The greens of the grasses and trees were still the fresh green of early summer, but the verges were glowing with tall stems of buttercups that pushed through the grasses; lots of them, brightly polished and gleaming with moisture and sun.
It was very quiet and I stopped to count how many sounds I could hear. There were blackbirds singing, a buzzard mewed, and somewhere nearby a lark joined in. I could just hear a tractor and some cattle in the distance and, at that moment, nothing more.
It was all very peaceful – a perfect day for a perfect occasion.
Bunting, flags and flowers
Coming back into the village from Stokes Lane, there were a few people, adjusting bunting or walking in the direction of The Trooper.
Bunting and flags were everywhere, lots of it, looking a little damp and limp but already picking up and flapping gently with every breath of air. Roses were in full flower and gardens looked as though they were joining in the party. People were bustling around opposite The Trooper and by the time I arrived, tables, small marquees fringed with more bunting, and chairs were ready already set out, and, yes, I was delighted to find lots of friends to chat to.
Groups of people were already arriving with cool boxes and Tupperware containers, and there was the sense of excitement and pleasure everywhere. By the time I headed for home, there seemed to be a mass exodus going in the direction of the village center.
Rain was in the forecast, but it was obvious that it wasn’t going to dampen anyone’s spirits. And no, I didn’t loose out at all because after lunch several kind friends called in armed with enough cakes and desserts to keep me going for several days!
Memories of the Jubilee
We will all have memories of that day, but the one I shall treasure is the sight of those regal buttercups, glowing like gold in the sunshine, and the village in its party dress of bunting.
They seemed symbolic of a deep and collective sigh of relief and pleasure that the last two years were finally behind us and we were at last able to get together again to celebrate a very special, national event.