Today for the first time this year I was able to work in the kitchen with the door open,the extra light this gave meant that I did not need to have all the kitchen lights blazing and the whole atmosphere of the room was changed.
Able to see far more of what was going on outside I noticed the female blackbird perched in the ash tree behind the house flapping her wings and begging the male bird for food. Juvenile behaviour such as this means that there will very soon be a nest full of blackbirds eggs in the darkest corner of the orchard wall.
Under the damson tree at the top of the orchard a carpet of purple crocus had opened their petals wide in the bright sun shine to welcome any stray bumble bees which happened to be passing and the very first primrose flower peeped shyly out from among the still dormant strawberry plants.
While picking some winter kale for tonight's colchannon I observed a wren inspecting the various nest boxes along the old orchard wall, there are seven I think so he will have plenty to choose from. Male wrens build four or five nests and then it is up to the female to decide in which of these her eggs will be laid. Being a fussy creature she will only mate when she is satisfied that the male of her choice is a competent builder, so the poor chap has to work very hard indeed!
Crows always nest in the tallest trees in the church yard, they say that you can tell what kind of summer it will be by the hight and type of nest they build. Some years ago I watched a pair of crows weaving plastic carrier bags in to their nest and it turned out to be one of the wettest summers ever, so it might be true.
Today they were up to their usual trick of stealing twigs from each others nests and this comic performance is well worth watching if you have a little time to spare. Last spring I watched there antic for several hours while sowing seeds in to pots and during that time the crows ferried the same couple of twigs back and forth until eventually one pair gave up. Next day however they were at it again, it is a miracle that their nest are ever completed.
Smitten as I am with rheumatism in my shoulders and an arthritic flare up in my hands I am worried that I shall not be able to manage the garden this year, if this awful event should ave her tummy tickled happen I shall fill the garden with wild flower seed and enjoy sitting in a sunny meadow, we should miss the vegetables but hopefully we should still have a good fruit crop for a year or two.
Soon it will be time to decide and if there is to be a drought this year complete with hosepipe ban I shall be doomed as I am unable to carry water in cans these days. Nothing daunted however the sun was lovely and for the first time I could feel its warmth as I inspected the flower beds for signs of life. Twiggy my little cat , overjoyed to have company in the garden ran about in gay abandon climbing trees for the joy of it and at last flopping down on the garden table to have her tummy tickled......I obliged of course.
Sun shine has a habit of showing up dirty windows and I have to confess that mine are a disgrace, my inability to reach the top panes is my excuse, something must be done however, I may have to ask my tall son to do the high panes for me.....maybe! Tall he certainly is. 6”4' in his stocking feet with long dark hair of the sort a girl would die to own and a bristling black beard, he has the look of a hero of legend, one of the Fianna perhaps, or a Viking raider. Fortunately he is also gentle and knows his own strength, he is man enough not to have to act tough to prove it and prefers to cut people down with words rather than his fists. Having said that he did give the five cowards who tried to mug him some time a go a run for their money before one of them knocked him to the ground with a chunk of wood.
But I digress, spring is effeminately in the air and I am in high hopes that with the return of warmer weather my aches and pains will lessen sufficiently for me to return to my beloved garden. There is an old saying that God loves gardeners and adds an hour on to their lives for every hour spent gardening, I do not believe this but it is a lovely thought.
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