SPRING IS ON ITS WAY.

 SPRING IS ON ITS WAY

Spring in our minds represents balmy days after the long dark days of winter, with bird song, flowers, early butterflies and burgeoning growth.

In fact, it is more often comes in fits and starts, making difficulties for gardeners who, encouraged by mild promises of an ‘early spring’ often have frosty setbacks. ‘Late springs’ keep us waiting through cold wet unpleasant conditions. The only certainty is that no two springs are similar except that they are usually a mix, keeping us alternately encouraged and impatient for improvement.

This year, with a year of Covid behind us and an uncertain future in which we can only hope for a gradual improvement, Tony and I have been largely restricted to the house and garden so apart from the wildlife in the garden we have been unable to compare appearances of the usual spring landmarks.

This year for the first time ever I think, we have had no frogspawn in the pond. This follows a major clear-out last autumn of wheelbarrows-full of overgrowing weed; was that anything to do with it? I have heard several other people this spring have noticed the same after clearing their ponds.

Astonishingly, I have only had the moth trap out once so far (though I might put it out tonight). I don’t think I am being particularly wimpish; the nights have been consistently unfavourable; too wet, too cold, too windy or a combination of all three. The one trapping I did, had a moderate catch of a few of the usual early species. 

Hebrew Character, named perhaps for the dark marks on the wings.

 

Yes, I DID put the moth trap out last night despite a clear chilly night, with again a moderate catch .

 Lacking our normal walking we are very out of touch with what’s flowering so yesterday we drove for 7 minutes to walk along the riverside and hedges of Luckett Great Meadow beside the Tamar; our hour’s exercise (please note, Covid police!) On the way we saw Greater Stitchwort, Common Scurvy-grass  and Alexanders in flower, with Dandelions and a golden strip of Lesser Celandines along the lane.

 

Greater Stitchwort. This picture was taken at the same time last year. It's not so forward this year.

Alexanders, a member of the carrot family. Said to have been brought by the Romans as an edible plant.It is common on the Cornish coast but less often seen inland.

 

Common ScurvyGrass. a member of the cress family, rich in vitamin C

 On the river bank were bushes of both Bullace (the flowers appearing with the first early leaves) and Sloe with tight clusters of white flowers appearing well before the leaves.

 

Bullace, flowering at the same time as its first leaves.

 

Blackthorn or Sloe blossoming before its leaves, and a bit later in the year than Bullace.

 

The Alder and Hazel catkins are over now and hang in dessicated remnants from the branches.

Carpets of shiny Ramsons leaves were up, tufts of bright green Hemlock Water Dropwort with the grey-green spears of Yellow Iris leaves among them and on the banks of the small side streams, cushions of yellow-green Golden Saxifrage were in flower.

 

Golden Saxifrage.

 The earth and stone banks round the meadow had early Barren Strawberry and the demure Ground Ivy.a childhood favourite, about the first flower I remember learning to recognize.

Barren Strawberry flowers before Wild Strawberry, and as its name suggests, it doesn't form strawberry fruits. Unlike Wild Strawberry, its petals are rounded, with a gap between them. Wild Strawberry petals have pointed tips, and are closer together, and its leaves end in a pointed tip, not blunt like Barren Strawberry.

Ground Ivy (no relative of Ivy)

 

Wild Daffs and Wood Anemones were in  flower on the banks below us as we walked up  alongside the river.

 

Probably true Wild Daffodils, but they are very difficult to distinguish from various similar cultivated ones especially here in Cornwall where daffodils are still grown widely as a commercial crop particularly in West Cornwall. They were once grown commercially here in East Cornwall too, but less now. However they are widely naturalized and grow freely on our hedgebanks. One spring recently, walking along about a half mile stretch of lane near the Tamar we counted 23 different cultivars.

 

Windflower or Wood Anemone. They are said to be indicators of ancient woodland because they spread very slowly therefore need a long-term stable habitat.

 We were walking along a well marked badger path in the sandy soil where flood debris was clotting the bushes some 12 or 15 feet above the present water level. Fresh Otter Spraint was left on the exposed boles of the big oaks overhanging the water. 

 

Flood debris. Goodness knows how this branch got woven over, under, and over the overhanging trunks!

A Dipper whisked out from an overhanging tuft of brambles n the riverbank and flew fast and low round the corner and out of sight.

 

 

Dipper. (I'm grateful to Linda Scott for this photo.)

 

They nest early, like Mistle Thrushes and Herons. Ravens were croaking overhead; in the riverside oaks and meadow hedge a nuthatch was calling insistently and a Great Tit and a party of Long-tailed Tits were calling. A couple of pairs of Mallard flew up from the side of the river as we approached, quacking indignantly. Our return walk along the sunny SE-facing hedge was surprisingly quiet for insect life: no butterflies or hoverflies. Just a few gingery furred Dung Flies on the new sheep droppings and a lot of blackish spiders scuttled away as I scuffed through a patch of young nettles to clean the mud off my boots. We had to wait till we got back to our own garden shortly afterwards, to see our first Small Tortoiseshell of the year.

Here at home the Jackdaws have re-possessed their chimney nesting site in the garden shed but we haven’t seen any of our regular garden birds carrying nesting material yet except for the House Sparrows. The nuthatches seem to be up to their usual trick of beginning to appropriate a nest box and hammering the entrance hole to suit, then abandoning it in favour of another, but meanwhile discouraging other species from using the box!

The rookery at the end of the lane is very active with a highly vocal community of birds standing on or close to their big nests declaring ownership and no doubt attempting to discourage twig-theft by their neighbours. The new ‘splinter group’ have so far built 14 nests in big oaks in the hedge one field away. Because there has been such a big increase in numbers of walkers passing below the original rookery we wonder if this was the reason for a substantial number of the community decamping to a quieter site. Normally the original rookery builds up to about 20 nests, compared to this year’s 15.

Bumble Bees are scarce so far; mainly queen Buff-tailed Bombus terrestris, fossicking around looking for nesting holes.

 

Buff-tailed Bumble bee. (Bombus terrestris.)

It's quite common to see Bumble-bees, especially the big queens, stranded on the ground, perhaps caught out on a cold day. They run out of steam and can't fly. A simple rescue frequently works. Dissolve a little white sugar in warm water in a teaspoon and push it under the bee's head. As often as not, very quickly you see their long straight black proboscis unfurl and drink lengthily from the sugar syrup. When they have had sufficient they move around. At this stage I take them outside and put them on a plant or flower high enough off the ground to give them a lift and more often than not, they take off and fly away.

  

Usually we can be expecting to see Common Violets in flower, Brimstone Butterflies (apart from one flukishly early female which usually appear AFTER the males.) and Oil Beetles. I’m sure they are to be seen but we’ve missed them so far, together with the earlier spring harbinger, Dogs Mercury.  We rarely see my childhood favourite, Coltsfoot here in Cornwall.

Coltsfoot. They flower before the leaves appear. They used to be a bothersome weed in our garden when I was a kid. Their deep roots were difficult to get out and I remember Dad saying ruefully that if the coltsfoot managed to flower in the garden, he'd lost the battle!

 

We’re still waiting to hear our first Chiffchaff although the garden is full of a medley of birdsong: Blackbird, Robin, Song Thrush, wheezing Greenfinches, tinkling Goldfinches, the falling song of Chaffinch which Mum used to describe as if it was falling down stairs, and these days the pretty little song of Siskins which now breed in or near the garden. Back in the '80s they were a novelty down here, occasionally seen feeding on peanuts in those red nets they used to be sold in. Now they are regular residents.

These things form the structure of our usual seasons and it’s oddly disorientating when you don’t see them.

Blogs I follow include:

www.northcornwallnaturalist.blogspot.com 

www.musingsfromhigherdowngateandelsewhere.blogspot.com 

www.downgatebatman.blogspot.com