On the drive back from shopping we spotted a Little Egret flying across the road and down the Arrow just this side of Studley.
We last saw it circling back over the Washford Mill pub.
Saturday, 19 November 2016
Thursday, 17 November 2016
Thursday November 17
Although I have not really seen a lot around the garden and its immediate environs since my last posting, I find I do have things to talk about.
Firstly, for the first time since the 2012/2013 winter, it is shaping up to be a Waxwing winter. This extremely attractive migrant from the taiga zone of northern Scandinavia and Russia is an irruptive migrant. This basically means that most years there are hardly any in the UK, but in some winters they turn up in their thousands.
For a suburban patch like this one, Waxwings have the added attraction that they actually seek out ornamental trees in towns, so for example, while I saw them around Winyates East (one even in our apple tree) in both of the last two influxes, I have never seen one at my other patch, the more rural Morton Bagot (although someone did see a flock of 15 there in January 2011).
Anyway, we planted an ornamental rowan in our front garden with Waxwings in mind shortly after we moved in. This winter it looks particularly splendid.
Sadly there was a flaw in our thinking.
The berries on the tree evidently become ripe enough to eat by around the end of November, and each year we are treated to the sight of Blackbirds, Song Thrushes, and the occasional Redwing stripping the lot by mid December. The problem is that Waxwings basically eat their way across the country after they first arrive at the end of October, so right now there are hoards in Scotland, stacks in north-east England, a few in the east Midlands, and today one in north Warwickshire. None at all in Worcestershire yet.
So the chances are that by the time Waxwings set foot in the county, our berries will be gone.
But fingers crossed eh.
Changing the subject, I feel I need an incentive to wander around the neighbouring streets, binoculars and camera in hand, no doubt alarming the residents. What I need is a list, oh yes. So I have entered East Redditch into Patchwork Challenge 2017. I find I can just about get Arrow Valley Lake and Ipsley Alders Nature Reserve into the three square kilometres you are allowed.
Changing the subject again. I actually saw a moth the other week, November 10. Admittedly it was just a house moth, or to be more precise a White-shouldered House Moth. The books say they are very common and live on detritus. I obviously need to do a bit more vacuuming.
Good one for the moth list.
Now there's an idea.
Firstly, for the first time since the 2012/2013 winter, it is shaping up to be a Waxwing winter. This extremely attractive migrant from the taiga zone of northern Scandinavia and Russia is an irruptive migrant. This basically means that most years there are hardly any in the UK, but in some winters they turn up in their thousands.
For a suburban patch like this one, Waxwings have the added attraction that they actually seek out ornamental trees in towns, so for example, while I saw them around Winyates East (one even in our apple tree) in both of the last two influxes, I have never seen one at my other patch, the more rural Morton Bagot (although someone did see a flock of 15 there in January 2011).
Anyway, we planted an ornamental rowan in our front garden with Waxwings in mind shortly after we moved in. This winter it looks particularly splendid.
Waxwing bait? |
The berries on the tree evidently become ripe enough to eat by around the end of November, and each year we are treated to the sight of Blackbirds, Song Thrushes, and the occasional Redwing stripping the lot by mid December. The problem is that Waxwings basically eat their way across the country after they first arrive at the end of October, so right now there are hoards in Scotland, stacks in north-east England, a few in the east Midlands, and today one in north Warwickshire. None at all in Worcestershire yet.
So the chances are that by the time Waxwings set foot in the county, our berries will be gone.
But fingers crossed eh.
Changing the subject, I feel I need an incentive to wander around the neighbouring streets, binoculars and camera in hand, no doubt alarming the residents. What I need is a list, oh yes. So I have entered East Redditch into Patchwork Challenge 2017. I find I can just about get Arrow Valley Lake and Ipsley Alders Nature Reserve into the three square kilometres you are allowed.
Changing the subject again. I actually saw a moth the other week, November 10. Admittedly it was just a house moth, or to be more precise a White-shouldered House Moth. The books say they are very common and live on detritus. I obviously need to do a bit more vacuuming.
White-shouldered House Moth - Endrosis sarcitrella |
Now there's an idea.
Thursday, 3 November 2016
Thursday November 3
I'm feeling very guilty today.
Partly this is in a "bless me father I have sinned, it is almost a month since my last posting" kind of way. But also because of the havoc I have wreaked upon one of the most wildlife friendly parts of our garden. More of that later.
So now come the excuses. I have not bothered to blog recently because I haven't really had anything to say. A holiday, work, shopping, birding at Morton Bagot, and most of all apathy have resulted in me scarcely bothering to look out of the window lately.
This morning was really rather pleasant in a crisp, cold autumnal sort of way and I resolved to grab my camera and go to post a letter and then head for the local shop. Cutting edge stuff. In the past this sort of morning has at least produced big flocks of Woodpigeons heading over. This morning there were two rather small flocks of them, but it'll do.
Now for the more serious confession. About eight years ago we planted a tiny lavender plant in our back garden. It was very happy there, and it grew. And grew. And GREW. This year it stood about six feet tall, and and spread outwards to make the patio in front of the kitchen window unnegotiable without a machete.
For the last few years I had been told it needed hacking back, and even that it had got to go. But here's the thing, the local bees love it. Butterflies like it. Hoverflies like it. Moths like it. And to be frank I like it, but I also like seeing the garden, and the bloody plant is in the way.
So this morning I did the deed. The lavender is now a sad little stump. As I was chopping away I disturbed a little plume-moth of uncertain species which I swear looked at me accusingly before fluttering off to the underside of our garden table. Homeless.
I promised that moth that we will plant something just as good, but much smaller, in the spring.
Before that, more pruning is expected of me.
Partly this is in a "bless me father I have sinned, it is almost a month since my last posting" kind of way. But also because of the havoc I have wreaked upon one of the most wildlife friendly parts of our garden. More of that later.
So now come the excuses. I have not bothered to blog recently because I haven't really had anything to say. A holiday, work, shopping, birding at Morton Bagot, and most of all apathy have resulted in me scarcely bothering to look out of the window lately.
This morning was really rather pleasant in a crisp, cold autumnal sort of way and I resolved to grab my camera and go to post a letter and then head for the local shop. Cutting edge stuff. In the past this sort of morning has at least produced big flocks of Woodpigeons heading over. This morning there were two rather small flocks of them, but it'll do.
Pathetically small flock of Woodpigeons |
Slightly less pathetic, still Woodpigeons |
Now for the more serious confession. About eight years ago we planted a tiny lavender plant in our back garden. It was very happy there, and it grew. And grew. And GREW. This year it stood about six feet tall, and and spread outwards to make the patio in front of the kitchen window unnegotiable without a machete.
For the last few years I had been told it needed hacking back, and even that it had got to go. But here's the thing, the local bees love it. Butterflies like it. Hoverflies like it. Moths like it. And to be frank I like it, but I also like seeing the garden, and the bloody plant is in the way.
So this morning I did the deed. The lavender is now a sad little stump. As I was chopping away I disturbed a little plume-moth of uncertain species which I swear looked at me accusingly before fluttering off to the underside of our garden table. Homeless.
I promised that moth that we will plant something just as good, but much smaller, in the spring.
Before that, more pruning is expected of me.
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