CT x
Hellebores from the garden. Everything has moved on considerably in the last three days here blossom-wise :o)
Wednesday, 25 March 2015
I'm Back!
Apologies for the general lack of comms- I've been deep in the Cambridgeshire Fens on a field Study Tour. A Great Time was had, with lots of interesting places visited and species seen, including some life ticks for me (Marsh Harrier, Hen Harrier). I shall report back more fully when I've had a decent night's sleep and can think straight. T & P should also have just about got over their extreme excitement at my return by then, leaving me with hands that free to type rather than snuggle with them :o)
CT x
Hellebores from the garden. Everything has moved on considerably in the last three days here blossom-wise :o)
CT x
Hellebores from the garden. Everything has moved on considerably in the last three days here blossom-wise :o)
Thursday, 19 March 2015
A Message From Teddy
Hello Everyone,
Ted here. I've been allowed a post of my own today because mum is busy making shorts and as it's her first attempt she's up to her armpits in bits of cut-up fabric, pins, chalk and lines of thread. We are sensibly keeping our heads down until the moment she realises she's stitched the leg holes together, or else made the material too small to fit anyone except Poppy (watch out Pop!), and then tears will ensue and we will be on Comforting Mum Duty, so I'm writing this quickly while I've still got time.
A strange thing happened to us today and, having discussed it with Poppy, I think it's fair to say we're not entirely sure how we feel about it, so I suggested we ask you and see what you all think.
Last night, we were curled up asleep together by the fire, keeping each other warm and cosy as we like to do....
(Dad wonders why we have three beds by the fire when a) there are only two of us and b) we always sleep on the same small bed together anyway, but Mum tells him it's proof against the time when a third dog might come and live with us :o)). Anyway, Dad came in and said something like: 'make the most of those furry coats dogs, I might not recognise you this time tomorrow.'
As you can imagine, I was immediately filled with unease, but when I woke Poppy (who never worries about anything) to tell her what Dad had said, she just giggled and told me I'd dreamt it.
However, I was pretty sure I hadn't dreamt it, and my suspicions deepened further when mum gave me a teary cuddle before bedtime and promised me that, whatever I might think, she wasn't abandoning me tomorrow or taking me somewhere else to live.
I need hardly tell you that did nothing to reassure me, especially when I over heard her telling Dad she'd told Mrs Dunning that I shake and shiver when I'm frightened. Who on earth was Mrs Dunning? I barely slept for thinking about it. Poppy slept all night. And she snored too.
This morning, I tried to hide behind Pop, but as she is smaller than me that didn't really work, so I pulled my Sad Face, hoping to put off whatever was coming, but that didn't work either.
Before we knew it we were in the boot of the car and a bottle of shampoo was put in with us.
That should have alerted me to the danger ahead but I was still busy wondering who Mrs Dunning was and I didn't notice the shampoo until it was too late.
A short drive later we arrived at a new house we didn't know and a nice lady who smelt of dogs and soap came out to see us. Mum handed over the shampoo and kissed us goodbye, but to be honest I didn't really notice because I was too busy wagging my tail and going into the nice lady's house with Pop. We didn't even look back at mum :o)
Two hours later we heard mum's car on the drive and bounced out to see her. She made lots of 'oohs' and 'ahhs' when she saw us. I had no idea why. Until, that is, we got home and I looked in the mirror.
Oh My God! WHAT has happened?????!!!!!
We look neat and tidy and all our fur has gone!
And I'm SILVER, for heavens' sake!
It took me weeks to cultivate the grubby off-yellow look and now I have to start all over again.
Pop's matting around her ears has completely gone too, and that took her weeks to build up and get just right, so she isn't very pleased either. She's so soft and silky and sweet-smelling mum keeps picking her up and kissing her. You needed disinfectant handy to kiss Pop before today :o)
The only thing to do in a situation like this is to roll quickly in the garden and then chase each other really really fast round and round the greenhouse so mum gets dizzy watching and can't catch us and give us another wash. (Can you spot Poppy in the second picture down?).
When we play this game, mum's foot is home, which means whoever has their paw on it can't be rough and tumbled....
Poppy won that round, but the wall is also supposed to be home, only Poppy never respects that and always jumps up behind me and chews my ears or the side of my face when I'm on it. It is very dangerous, but then she isn't very careful about health and safety rules generally, ans she never learns her lesson about them- like the time this winter when she walked on an ice puddle and the ice cracked and she fell right in over her nose and had to be rescued. I would have been very shaken by the whole incident, but she just shook herself and raced off into the woods. Silly creature.
Mum had to order her off the wall and explain to her why chewing my face while we were both balancing on it was a Silly Thing To Do.
I don't think it made much difference, because as soon as mum went off to do something else, Pop leaped back on the wall and started chewing my ears :o(
Anyway, that's what's happened to us today and we want to know what you all think of our new hair cuts?
Just to even the score, mum has had one today too. She said it's to look smart for the Great Crested Newts she's going to see in the forest after dark. Silly Woman.
Got to go- the shorts are nearing the stitching together part and I need to be on paw for the inevitable moral support.....
Hope you are all well,
Love from Teddy xx
Ted here. I've been allowed a post of my own today because mum is busy making shorts and as it's her first attempt she's up to her armpits in bits of cut-up fabric, pins, chalk and lines of thread. We are sensibly keeping our heads down until the moment she realises she's stitched the leg holes together, or else made the material too small to fit anyone except Poppy (watch out Pop!), and then tears will ensue and we will be on Comforting Mum Duty, so I'm writing this quickly while I've still got time.
A strange thing happened to us today and, having discussed it with Poppy, I think it's fair to say we're not entirely sure how we feel about it, so I suggested we ask you and see what you all think.
Last night, we were curled up asleep together by the fire, keeping each other warm and cosy as we like to do....
(Dad wonders why we have three beds by the fire when a) there are only two of us and b) we always sleep on the same small bed together anyway, but Mum tells him it's proof against the time when a third dog might come and live with us :o)). Anyway, Dad came in and said something like: 'make the most of those furry coats dogs, I might not recognise you this time tomorrow.'
As you can imagine, I was immediately filled with unease, but when I woke Poppy (who never worries about anything) to tell her what Dad had said, she just giggled and told me I'd dreamt it.
However, I was pretty sure I hadn't dreamt it, and my suspicions deepened further when mum gave me a teary cuddle before bedtime and promised me that, whatever I might think, she wasn't abandoning me tomorrow or taking me somewhere else to live.
I need hardly tell you that did nothing to reassure me, especially when I over heard her telling Dad she'd told Mrs Dunning that I shake and shiver when I'm frightened. Who on earth was Mrs Dunning? I barely slept for thinking about it. Poppy slept all night. And she snored too.
This morning, I tried to hide behind Pop, but as she is smaller than me that didn't really work, so I pulled my Sad Face, hoping to put off whatever was coming, but that didn't work either.
Before we knew it we were in the boot of the car and a bottle of shampoo was put in with us.
That should have alerted me to the danger ahead but I was still busy wondering who Mrs Dunning was and I didn't notice the shampoo until it was too late.
A short drive later we arrived at a new house we didn't know and a nice lady who smelt of dogs and soap came out to see us. Mum handed over the shampoo and kissed us goodbye, but to be honest I didn't really notice because I was too busy wagging my tail and going into the nice lady's house with Pop. We didn't even look back at mum :o)
Two hours later we heard mum's car on the drive and bounced out to see her. She made lots of 'oohs' and 'ahhs' when she saw us. I had no idea why. Until, that is, we got home and I looked in the mirror.
Oh My God! WHAT has happened?????!!!!!
We look neat and tidy and all our fur has gone!
And I'm SILVER, for heavens' sake!
It took me weeks to cultivate the grubby off-yellow look and now I have to start all over again.
Pop's matting around her ears has completely gone too, and that took her weeks to build up and get just right, so she isn't very pleased either. She's so soft and silky and sweet-smelling mum keeps picking her up and kissing her. You needed disinfectant handy to kiss Pop before today :o)
The only thing to do in a situation like this is to roll quickly in the garden and then chase each other really really fast round and round the greenhouse so mum gets dizzy watching and can't catch us and give us another wash. (Can you spot Poppy in the second picture down?).
When we play this game, mum's foot is home, which means whoever has their paw on it can't be rough and tumbled....
Poppy won that round, but the wall is also supposed to be home, only Poppy never respects that and always jumps up behind me and chews my ears or the side of my face when I'm on it. It is very dangerous, but then she isn't very careful about health and safety rules generally, ans she never learns her lesson about them- like the time this winter when she walked on an ice puddle and the ice cracked and she fell right in over her nose and had to be rescued. I would have been very shaken by the whole incident, but she just shook herself and raced off into the woods. Silly creature.
Mum had to order her off the wall and explain to her why chewing my face while we were both balancing on it was a Silly Thing To Do.
Anyway, that's what's happened to us today and we want to know what you all think of our new hair cuts?
Just to even the score, mum has had one today too. She said it's to look smart for the Great Crested Newts she's going to see in the forest after dark. Silly Woman.
Got to go- the shorts are nearing the stitching together part and I need to be on paw for the inevitable moral support.....
Hope you are all well,
Love from Teddy xx
Monday, 16 March 2015
Moth Time
It's still pretty chilly here at night, but despite the low temperatures moths are arriving in ever-increasing numbers. None of the truly colourful ones yet, but the land is still wearing muted colours so you can't really expect the moths to stand out with undue gaudiness.
I had 17 in the box this morning, 4 different species, which is considerably up on the last time it was out (March 8th) when there were 3 moths made up from 2 species.
Here are today's Mothy People.
First, the Clouded Drab. An unfair name for a very variable moth who flies March- May and feeds on sallow (Goat willow) catkins and blackthorn flowers. This little moth overwinters as a pupa in an underground cocoon. Here I have two of the several varieties available, one browny grey and the other more orange.
Next, the Common Quaker, who is the most numerous moth recorded this week in Hampshire historically speaking. I had 8 here. This is also a one-generation moth, flying March-May, although you sometimes get small numbers emerging in Autumn and Winter if the weather is mild enough for them. They also feed at sallow catkins and blackthorn flowers and spend the winter as a pupa in an underground cocoon.
The third visitor is this Hebrew Character, of which there were 5 in the box. Moth names can be strange and at first glance this one sounds insulting, but in fact it is named for the black mark in the centre of the forewing which resembles Hebrew Script (something I've learnt today). There were 5 of them in the box this morning and they are also a one-generation species flying March-May in southern Britain and April-early June in the north and Ireland. It too feeds on sallow catkins, so if you have those near you you are very likely to have Hebrew Characters flying about at night. As with the other two, this moth overwinters as a pupa underground in a cocoon and it is widespread, found all over the British Isles in every type of habitat imaginable.
The fourth and final species in the box this morning was this Twin-Spotted Quaker. Here he is demonstrating the Moth Defensive Position of Playing Dead.
Unlike caterpillars, adult moths don't have poisons to ward off predators so their best tactic is to play dead. Some species do this more frequently than others. You only have to suggest movement to the White Ermine for example and it crumples up in a convincing heap. I remember the first time I saw this in action- I was so upset I'd killed a moth but couldn't for the life of me work out how I'd done it. Ten minutes later I returned and the ermine was doing the moth equivalent of sitting with his feet up drinking tea and watching tele! I was very relieved all was well.
The Twin-Spotted Quaker is also a single-generation moth flying between March-May and feeding on sallow catkins. It too lives as a pupa underground in a cocoon during winter and is a common resident all round the UK so you will most likely have them flying about at night in your garden if you are a UK resident.
What these four species amply demonstrate more than anything else is the value of sallow as an important food plant. It supports a huge number of lepidoptera (butterflies and moths): some feed on the catkins (as these four), others on the leaves (Sallow Kitten moth) and others the wood (Lunar Hornet Clearwing moth). That most elegant and revered of flutters, his Imperial Majesty the Purple Emperor, requires sallow to feed his children who will eat nothing else, and as this morning's moth collection has shown, a great many early moths rely on it for their survival too.
Sallow, or Goat Willow, may be more familiar to you at this time of year as Pussy Willow as its catkins are decorating many of our hedgerows right now. It grows in all kinds of places as squatter shrubs and taller trees and, unlike other willows, it does not require damp ground in order to flourish.
I would go so far as to say it is the second most important tree in the UK after Oak in terms of the biodiversity it supports. Many invertebrates would be in serious trouble if sallow ever failed.
If you are thinking of planting a tree in your garden this year, have a think about planting a sallow- you'll be helping a great many more species than you realise and the tree will almost certainly reward you with visions of natural wonder you've never seen before, if you are patient and take the time to look. I know this because we are fortunate enough to have a Goat Willow in our front drive and I became very close to this tree last year and wrote a post about him and the life I found on and around and in him which you can read here.
I'm so glad the moths are starting to reappear. Along with everything else, it suggests this long winter is finally drawing to a close. I went to the garden centre yesterday afternoon and splashed out on some compost and some new plants- two colour variations of Scabious, a Cowslip and a couple of Aubretia, all beloved of insects and of course, I made sure I came home with something white for the moths. I find these days I can't buy a colourful plant without also coming home with a white one for my little night-time friends.
Have you ever thought about why so many night-scented flowers have white blooms? It's because they've adapted to be visible and attractive to the night-time pollinators. Night-scented stock, tobacco plant, jasmine, night-flowering catchfly, honeysuckle all have a large number of white or light blossoms.
Wishing everyone a peaceful and productive week,
CT :o)
I had 17 in the box this morning, 4 different species, which is considerably up on the last time it was out (March 8th) when there were 3 moths made up from 2 species.
Here are today's Mothy People.
First, the Clouded Drab. An unfair name for a very variable moth who flies March- May and feeds on sallow (Goat willow) catkins and blackthorn flowers. This little moth overwinters as a pupa in an underground cocoon. Here I have two of the several varieties available, one browny grey and the other more orange.
Next, the Common Quaker, who is the most numerous moth recorded this week in Hampshire historically speaking. I had 8 here. This is also a one-generation moth, flying March-May, although you sometimes get small numbers emerging in Autumn and Winter if the weather is mild enough for them. They also feed at sallow catkins and blackthorn flowers and spend the winter as a pupa in an underground cocoon.
The third visitor is this Hebrew Character, of which there were 5 in the box. Moth names can be strange and at first glance this one sounds insulting, but in fact it is named for the black mark in the centre of the forewing which resembles Hebrew Script (something I've learnt today). There were 5 of them in the box this morning and they are also a one-generation species flying March-May in southern Britain and April-early June in the north and Ireland. It too feeds on sallow catkins, so if you have those near you you are very likely to have Hebrew Characters flying about at night. As with the other two, this moth overwinters as a pupa underground in a cocoon and it is widespread, found all over the British Isles in every type of habitat imaginable.
The fourth and final species in the box this morning was this Twin-Spotted Quaker. Here he is demonstrating the Moth Defensive Position of Playing Dead.
Unlike caterpillars, adult moths don't have poisons to ward off predators so their best tactic is to play dead. Some species do this more frequently than others. You only have to suggest movement to the White Ermine for example and it crumples up in a convincing heap. I remember the first time I saw this in action- I was so upset I'd killed a moth but couldn't for the life of me work out how I'd done it. Ten minutes later I returned and the ermine was doing the moth equivalent of sitting with his feet up drinking tea and watching tele! I was very relieved all was well.
The Twin-Spotted Quaker is also a single-generation moth flying between March-May and feeding on sallow catkins. It too lives as a pupa underground in a cocoon during winter and is a common resident all round the UK so you will most likely have them flying about at night in your garden if you are a UK resident.
What these four species amply demonstrate more than anything else is the value of sallow as an important food plant. It supports a huge number of lepidoptera (butterflies and moths): some feed on the catkins (as these four), others on the leaves (Sallow Kitten moth) and others the wood (Lunar Hornet Clearwing moth). That most elegant and revered of flutters, his Imperial Majesty the Purple Emperor, requires sallow to feed his children who will eat nothing else, and as this morning's moth collection has shown, a great many early moths rely on it for their survival too.
Sallow, or Goat Willow, may be more familiar to you at this time of year as Pussy Willow as its catkins are decorating many of our hedgerows right now. It grows in all kinds of places as squatter shrubs and taller trees and, unlike other willows, it does not require damp ground in order to flourish.
I would go so far as to say it is the second most important tree in the UK after Oak in terms of the biodiversity it supports. Many invertebrates would be in serious trouble if sallow ever failed.
If you are thinking of planting a tree in your garden this year, have a think about planting a sallow- you'll be helping a great many more species than you realise and the tree will almost certainly reward you with visions of natural wonder you've never seen before, if you are patient and take the time to look. I know this because we are fortunate enough to have a Goat Willow in our front drive and I became very close to this tree last year and wrote a post about him and the life I found on and around and in him which you can read here.
I'm so glad the moths are starting to reappear. Along with everything else, it suggests this long winter is finally drawing to a close. I went to the garden centre yesterday afternoon and splashed out on some compost and some new plants- two colour variations of Scabious, a Cowslip and a couple of Aubretia, all beloved of insects and of course, I made sure I came home with something white for the moths. I find these days I can't buy a colourful plant without also coming home with a white one for my little night-time friends.
Have you ever thought about why so many night-scented flowers have white blooms? It's because they've adapted to be visible and attractive to the night-time pollinators. Night-scented stock, tobacco plant, jasmine, night-flowering catchfly, honeysuckle all have a large number of white or light blossoms.
Wishing everyone a peaceful and productive week,
CT :o)
Saturday, 14 March 2015
An Unlikely Love Story.....
I think I may this week have acquired the unusual distinction of being the only woman in the UK to have her thumb mistaken for a female toad. On the strength of this experience I can tell you that amorous male toads have a Very Strong Grip Indeed.
I tried to explain to my small warty paramour that my gloved thumb was not, as he believed, a lady toad, but was in fact part of my hand and a not insignificant part of the reason why he wasn't, at that precise moment, squashed flat on the lane by the car that had just roared past, lights blazing and not noticing either of us at all. His response, once I stopped talking, was to coo more loudly and hold on more tightly. Apparently, as soon as I scooped him up off the tarmac he decided he'd fallen in love and no amount of gentle reasoning would persuade him otherwise.
I tried to prise him off by lifting him up. That didn't work. Then I tried to persuade him to walk off by nudging his bottom. That didn't work either. In the end, I placed my hand in the stream, hoping the coolness of the water might sufficiently dampen his ardour and show him his mistake, but of course that was nonsense because water is the medium of Toad Love And Marriage and all that I achieved was to get a wet glove and a cold hand and a still happier toad.
It was all rather sweet, and rather touching, and very funny. Picture the scene: there was me, in the pitch black with a semi-circle of light from my head torch haloing the ground immediately in front of me, half-way down a muddy bank in my wellies trying not to slip and overbalance into the stream in which twenty small toads sat watching me impassively, while a happy male toad clung onto my thumb and serenaded me with a whole string of musical Coos.
This is precisely the sort of thing that is always happening to me. It rarely seems to happen to other people. I'm wondering how you spent your Thursday night? I'd lay money it wasn't as I spent mine, rescuing toads and being serenaded by them.
Needless to say, I got the giggles, which didn't help.
I've watched them mating all this week and it really is a grab hold, climb on and stay there or else process. The girls (who are quite a bit bigger than the boys) waddle off with their smaller paramours clinging onto their backs for dear life- any other male toads fancying their chances get short shrift in the form of a long toady leg thrust into their faces. Toad mating is a determined game. But then it has to be, because, from what I've seen this week, there are ten males for every female and the death rate on the lane is high.
Eventually, I managed to dislodge my little friend and he went off happily into the water. Apparently, he was not heart-broken at the loss of my thumb, because as soon as he found a real female toad he jumped on her. Toady affection is clearly an ephemeral thing.
I'll leave you with some pics of the Long Tailed Tits who have been back in the garden consuming vast quantities of fat balls this week. Everyone is starting to sing here now- the Blackbird has taken up station at the top of one of our trees where he sings away at dawn and dusk, the GSWs are drilling in the trees like mad and I keep hearing Greenfinches whirring away although I never seem to see them. It won't be long till nesting starts in earnest :o)
Hope all are well?
CT :o)
I tried to explain to my small warty paramour that my gloved thumb was not, as he believed, a lady toad, but was in fact part of my hand and a not insignificant part of the reason why he wasn't, at that precise moment, squashed flat on the lane by the car that had just roared past, lights blazing and not noticing either of us at all. His response, once I stopped talking, was to coo more loudly and hold on more tightly. Apparently, as soon as I scooped him up off the tarmac he decided he'd fallen in love and no amount of gentle reasoning would persuade him otherwise.
I tried to prise him off by lifting him up. That didn't work. Then I tried to persuade him to walk off by nudging his bottom. That didn't work either. In the end, I placed my hand in the stream, hoping the coolness of the water might sufficiently dampen his ardour and show him his mistake, but of course that was nonsense because water is the medium of Toad Love And Marriage and all that I achieved was to get a wet glove and a cold hand and a still happier toad.
It was all rather sweet, and rather touching, and very funny. Picture the scene: there was me, in the pitch black with a semi-circle of light from my head torch haloing the ground immediately in front of me, half-way down a muddy bank in my wellies trying not to slip and overbalance into the stream in which twenty small toads sat watching me impassively, while a happy male toad clung onto my thumb and serenaded me with a whole string of musical Coos.
This is precisely the sort of thing that is always happening to me. It rarely seems to happen to other people. I'm wondering how you spent your Thursday night? I'd lay money it wasn't as I spent mine, rescuing toads and being serenaded by them.
Needless to say, I got the giggles, which didn't help.
I've watched them mating all this week and it really is a grab hold, climb on and stay there or else process. The girls (who are quite a bit bigger than the boys) waddle off with their smaller paramours clinging onto their backs for dear life- any other male toads fancying their chances get short shrift in the form of a long toady leg thrust into their faces. Toad mating is a determined game. But then it has to be, because, from what I've seen this week, there are ten males for every female and the death rate on the lane is high.
Eventually, I managed to dislodge my little friend and he went off happily into the water. Apparently, he was not heart-broken at the loss of my thumb, because as soon as he found a real female toad he jumped on her. Toady affection is clearly an ephemeral thing.
I'll leave you with some pics of the Long Tailed Tits who have been back in the garden consuming vast quantities of fat balls this week. Everyone is starting to sing here now- the Blackbird has taken up station at the top of one of our trees where he sings away at dawn and dusk, the GSWs are drilling in the trees like mad and I keep hearing Greenfinches whirring away although I never seem to see them. It won't be long till nesting starts in earnest :o)
Hope all are well?
CT :o)
Wednesday, 11 March 2015
Keyhaven Seabirds, Seaweed & Seashells & Toad Watch Update....
Cold and bright here today. We spent the morning at Keyhaven, a coastal nature reserve not far from here, and had a walk and talk with the site manager who was a mine of information. A Ruff was spotted there yesterday, and a Dartford Warbler, and also a Spoonbill. We saw the latter. Has the photo worked any better than those I took at Farlington a few weeks back?
Umm, not sure. Can you see the spoon-shaped bill?
Oh well. He was some distance away.
Little Egrets, Redshank, Lapwing and Black-Tailed Godwit were closer......
The Black-Tailed Godwit were On Form with some Particularly Obliging Stances....
Daffs, Gorse & Pussy Willow are now blooming along the banks and hedgerows...
The sea was glittering magically in the light.....
I managed to find Evidence Of Moths :o) This fluffy stuff is (I think) the web of one of the Processionary Moths and inside it will be hundreds of tiny toxic black and ginger caterpillars who'll soon be out.....
I have renewed my long-term fascination with texture and form and the shape of things since reading Jennifer's excellent blog on stone carving here. These thoughts were very much in my mind when I went for a wander along the shoreline and found these amazing shells lying in their hundreds just beneath the surface of the water. The tide was coming in so I committed them to the camera's memory. The small, pointy shells are Small Winkles and the more rounded ones Periwinkles of some description....
Here are a clutch of Small Winkles alive and well on their rock. They reminded me forcibly of that lovely story poem by Julia Donaldson, called The snail and the whale. Do you know it? It's the tale of a tiny snail who is bored sitting on her rock and (much to the horror of her fellow snails) wants to go adventuring so she hops on the back of a whale who takes her round the world. At one point, the whale gets beached and nearly dies, but his friend the snail saves him by using her slime to write a message on a board in a local school. When they get back to her rock all the other snails decide to hop on too and they go adventuring with the whale. It is delightful, one of my all time favourite stories.
I've always loved the sea. Maybe it is being born and living on an island, but the mystery, power and magic of it resonates with me. I'm especially drawn to the shore, to that magical realm that is neither land nor sea but suspended somewhere between both, a place whose inhabitants can breath in air and water alike....
So, a magic day and I have topped up my sea levels, which is Good :o)
Tomorrow, a talk to the first years on butterflies and then after that things should start to slow down a little and normal life will resume (as much as it ever does!).
In the mean time, we are on Toad Watch every night. I've been asked by Froglife to record all sightings, which means live toads, dead toads and all the toads we carry across to safety. Seeing so many dead on the road breaks my heart a bit every night, but I am trying to focus on the live ones and keep telling myself they would be dead too if we weren't helping. I hope our homemade signs are also saving a few. I think most people care enough about wildlife to go the other way if they can and so avoid the toads.
I've also just taken delivery of my new pupa box, and have installed the two pupae I am looking after in it. I hope they will survive because I really want to know what they are. I have a sneaky suspicion the big one is a Large Yellow Underwing, but I don't have a scoobies what the other one is....
Neat little house, no?
That's all for now. Hope everyone is well and I wish you all a peaceful evening.
CT :o)
Umm, not sure. Can you see the spoon-shaped bill?
Oh well. He was some distance away.
Little Egrets, Redshank, Lapwing and Black-Tailed Godwit were closer......
The Black-Tailed Godwit were On Form with some Particularly Obliging Stances....
Daffs, Gorse & Pussy Willow are now blooming along the banks and hedgerows...
The sea was glittering magically in the light.....
I managed to find Evidence Of Moths :o) This fluffy stuff is (I think) the web of one of the Processionary Moths and inside it will be hundreds of tiny toxic black and ginger caterpillars who'll soon be out.....
I have renewed my long-term fascination with texture and form and the shape of things since reading Jennifer's excellent blog on stone carving here. These thoughts were very much in my mind when I went for a wander along the shoreline and found these amazing shells lying in their hundreds just beneath the surface of the water. The tide was coming in so I committed them to the camera's memory. The small, pointy shells are Small Winkles and the more rounded ones Periwinkles of some description....
Here are a clutch of Small Winkles alive and well on their rock. They reminded me forcibly of that lovely story poem by Julia Donaldson, called The snail and the whale. Do you know it? It's the tale of a tiny snail who is bored sitting on her rock and (much to the horror of her fellow snails) wants to go adventuring so she hops on the back of a whale who takes her round the world. At one point, the whale gets beached and nearly dies, but his friend the snail saves him by using her slime to write a message on a board in a local school. When they get back to her rock all the other snails decide to hop on too and they go adventuring with the whale. It is delightful, one of my all time favourite stories.
I've always loved the sea. Maybe it is being born and living on an island, but the mystery, power and magic of it resonates with me. I'm especially drawn to the shore, to that magical realm that is neither land nor sea but suspended somewhere between both, a place whose inhabitants can breath in air and water alike....
So, a magic day and I have topped up my sea levels, which is Good :o)
Tomorrow, a talk to the first years on butterflies and then after that things should start to slow down a little and normal life will resume (as much as it ever does!).
In the mean time, we are on Toad Watch every night. I've been asked by Froglife to record all sightings, which means live toads, dead toads and all the toads we carry across to safety. Seeing so many dead on the road breaks my heart a bit every night, but I am trying to focus on the live ones and keep telling myself they would be dead too if we weren't helping. I hope our homemade signs are also saving a few. I think most people care enough about wildlife to go the other way if they can and so avoid the toads.
I've also just taken delivery of my new pupa box, and have installed the two pupae I am looking after in it. I hope they will survive because I really want to know what they are. I have a sneaky suspicion the big one is a Large Yellow Underwing, but I don't have a scoobies what the other one is....
Neat little house, no?
That's all for now. Hope everyone is well and I wish you all a peaceful evening.
CT :o)
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