Midges, Moss and Mud

The willow warblers have fledged

2011-06-11T22:47:00.002+01:00

Three healthy chicks.

They were nesting in the hedge on the top tier and fledged on to the willows by the compost bin.

Cute little brown birds.

Under the clouds

2011-06-09T23:46:00.002+01:00

It has rained A LOT….and that is all I am going to say about that.

There were a couple of sunny days in April and May. I have the photos to prove it.

The wild flowers bloomed,

particularly the cuckoo flower which I left last year to self seed all over midge farm because……

…..it brings in these beauties.

My collared dove with the partial albinism has found a partner this year.

A pair of willow warblers are visiting for the first time. They are nesting either in the garden or very close by as I see them collecting insects all day long.

Midge farm has got jungle fever in the rain.

The birds have got a new bird table which they use mainly as an umbrella,

and I have got a new rhodie which produced these lovely, girly, pink bells.

Two years after they were planted the verbascums are finally establishing and putting on a show.

My lovely song thrushes have also established and produced at least one healthy fledgling.

The gold finches have produced two, although they do look more like drowned rats than fluffy baby birds.

Speaking of rodents, the mouse is back but very much a fair weather visitor, I don’t think she likes getting her fur wet.

She would never have dared to sit on the step like this when old fatso was around.

And finally, my new toy, a butterfly feeder, with its first visitor, a hungry red admiral who sat and fed for at least five minutes. I have my fingers crossed that there will be many more over the summer.

Midge Farm Butterflies of 2010

2011-02-13T20:50:00.002Z

Did I say Spring was coming? Humph, rain, hail, thunder lightening, gale force winds, we’ve had it all recently. So I’m back to dreaming about warmer temperatures and beautiful things in the garden. Here they are, my garden ornaments, the butterflies of 2010.

The first butterflies in the garden were the orange tips spotted on 8th May. They get their name for a very obvious reason. This is a male enjoying the cuckoo flowers that bloomed throughout the garden in May.

This is Mrs Tip she doesn’t have the bright orange of the males. I wonder why, because the bright orange is meant to warn predators that these are nasty tasting toxic insects. Are the females not as toxic? Or are the males more at risk because they have aerial battles while the females skim close to the foliage looking for egg laying sites?

The orange tips fly for a short period in Spring. They’re everywhere in Argyll, even on the road verges like this trio, and then they’re gone, brief, bright hints of summer sun.

The next butterfly in the garden was this quiet spotted wood, basking in the sun on 22nd May. In fact I had seen spotted woods much earlier at Arduaine on 3rd May but this was the first one in my garden. A spotted wood was also the last butterfly I saw in 2010, a poor battered specimen in Knapdale forest which is just over the hill from Midge Farm.

Next to arrive were the green veined whites, first seen on 23rd May. These are the butterflies I see most frequently at Midge Farm. They are constant companions through the summer, I presume more than one generation because I see them from May through to late August.

Then there was this big bold red admiral on 25th July who posed so cooperatively for upper and underside wing shots. She let me get close enough to use the macro setting on the camera.

The next pictures are cheats because I didn't actually see these in the garden. I persuaded a poor visiting friend from Edinburgh that she really wanted to spend a Sunday morning traipsing through a bog to look for a butterfly. The Scotch Argus flies in abundance over Moine Mhor - the great moss, just north of Lochgilphead. We spent a happy morning (on my part at least) on 8th August watching these luxurious brown butterflies drifting like scraps of velvet over the mounds of sphagnum moss.

Of course I needn't have inflicted such butterfly geekery on my guest because the very next weekend a walk at Ormsary revealed the Argus flying all along the road verges. I like these images of a hoverfly sharing knapweed with the Argus.

Back to the garden. I used to see large whites regularly in my Tilly garden but they are much rarer at Midge Farm. I think this one had only just emerged from her chrysalis when I saw her on 13th August. Her wings were still filling out. She was a typical grumpy teenager who didn’t want company and eventually crawled into the box shrub To Be By Herself.

Next was this jewel like small copper, spotted on 15th August, glowing on my wildlife woodpile.

I had brief glimpses of the following two butterflies through the summer but these were the first pictures I managed to record. I saw this small tortoiseshell on 29th August. Some butterflies, like the orange tip, have been expanding their range in recent years, but this little beauty has been in decline. I never see them in large numbers in the garden but am happy to find one or two every year.

They take their name from the lovely tortoiseshell markings of the under side of their wings.

And finally the last butterfly spotted at Midge Farm, on the same day as the small tortie, 29th August, one of our commonest and most dramatic in appearance, the peacock.

These have such stunning upper wing markings they always surprise me when they fold their wings and transform into mysterious dark butterfly shadows.

So that’s it for 2010. I’m hoping 2011 will bring these beauties and others back to the garden. Meanwhile I’ll keep dreaming by the fire.

Small Pleasures

2011-01-23T13:23:00.002Z

A beautiful sunrise on a frosty morning this week.

Long tailed tits in the garden. I’ve seen them in the woods behind the house but this is the first time they have visited the garden. They’re tiny birds but full of character. They travel in family groups and constantly chirp and tweet to each other. A pleasure and privilege to see and hear in the garden.

The RSPB site describes long tailed tits as little balls on sticks, but I have never seen a bird look more like a feathered ball than this goldcrest. He was scurrying up and down some conifers behind the house. Goldcrests compete with firecrests for the title of Britain’s smallest bird, neither of them weighs more than the equivalent of five paper clips.

This little fellow had fluffed his feathers out until he looked like a puffer fish but he wasn’t sick, just cold. It’s difficult to keep warm when you’re so small. It had been a freezing night and there were still patches of ice in the woods were the sun couldn’t penetrate. I know he wasn’t sick because he was so active, he bounced about the tree like a hyperactive ping-pong ball. I took 23 shots and he was only vaguely in focus in three of them, in the others he was either a blur or a handful of tail feathers disappearing into the greenery.

I have lots of photos of birds bottoms, they are the most uncooperative subjects. Another tiny bird I regularly see, who refuses to stay still is the wren. He is constantly on the move, searching for insects, and ignores all my pleas to pose for the camera.

But bird bottoms are better than no bottoms. What a pleasure to know these three tiny species, who are so vulnerable to prolonged cold weather, all survived the harsh December. Temperatures are still regularly sinking below zero at night, but there’s a lift in the air during the day heralding Spring. The birds have started to sing their hearts out, competing for territory, the evenings are lighter and the catkins are out. Spring is coming.

And I have used the last of 2010’s vegetables. This pumpkin has been sitting in the dining room since October while I wondered what to do with it, never having grown pumpkins before. I ran out of veg this week and decided to try pumpkin soup. YUM. So simple, so low in calories and so good. I softened some onions in fry lite (I’m on a diet so olive oil is not allowed but would be better) bunged in some chicken stock (from a bottle), hot water and the pumpkin in large chunks, a hefty pinch of nutmeg and masses of fresh ground pepper. Cooked until the pumpkin was soft (~30 mins) and then whizzed the whole thing with a hand zapper. It had a luxurious, smooth, creamy texture without the calories of added cream. A perfectly pleasurable Winter soup. If I had another pumpkin I think it would use a mix of cumin and chilli powder rather than nutmeg. I will definitely be growing more pumpkins this year to experiment with the other spices.

January

2011-01-09T23:10:00.002Z

A Happy New Year to all, including my poor birds who had to put up with another fall of snow yesterday. Then their breakfast was late and I practically had Mrs Blackbird tapping on the kitchen window in her impatience.

The thrush wasn’t far behind her, he’s cold and hungry and has lost his habitual shyness.

In fact there are now regularly two thrushes in the garden but I can’t tell them apart.

Hundreds of chaffinches.

I tried to count them but couldn’t so did a block count and scaled up across the garden.

The bramblings are still about. Mrs is shy and hangs back in the shrubs,

but Mr gets stuck right in.

I went for a walk up the hill this afternoon, the footprints showed many people had the same idea,

but they tailed off as I went further up, until eventually there was just me and what looked like the prints of a pogo-ing sheep.

It was beautiful still day. A lot of the pine trees have been felled recently, leaving stands of tall larch lone against the skyline.

High in these I could hear excited bird calls. Long tailed tits! At the absolute limit of my camera zoom but recognisable.

Then amongst the cheeping tits a flash of bright red and yellow… bigger, bulkier, acrobatic birds… parrots in snowy Scotland? No, cross bills! The first I have ever seen, feeding on the larch cones.

The boys are red and the girls are yellow/green. Both a welcome splash of colour in our monochrome landscape.

Snowbirds

2010-12-05T15:18:00.002Z

We got our share of snow this week. Last Sunday Midge Farm looked like this:

It felt odd taking these shots with no tortie shadow hopping along in my footprints, mithering endlessly about how Cold She Is and Why Are We Outside Anyway? and Isn’t It Time to Put More Cat Food Out?

The garden wasn’t empty though. The birds monitored my every move with pretty much the same attitude as Smudge i.e. what are you doing out here and where’s the food?

It didn’t take them long to empty all the seed feeders once I went back inside. Then they sat around tapping their claws and “tsking” until I came out and filled them again.

They’re going through seed at a phenomenal rate. I’m filling the feeders three times a day plus putting out peanut cake and fat balls. Expensive but rewarding because the harsh weather has again brought unusual visitors to the garden. Last year Thor the viking field fare arrived. This year I have had bramblings for the first time. These are much shyer, quieter visitors than Thor and a pleasure to watch in amongst the chaffinches and sparrows. I have two males and a female.

This is one of the Mister Brambles, he has much bolder colouring than the Mrs who is a more subtle creature.

And here is Mrs Bramble, who seemed a sweet, shy little bird, hungry but easily bullied by the others.

I could get used to snow if it brings such pretty things to Midge Farm.

Good-bye Smudge

2010-11-21T22:10:00.002Z

Aggravating, demanding, ungrateful, imperious, soft, cuddly, affectionate, head-butting, mouse-watching, bird-ignoring, permanently-shedding, yoghurt-loving, carpet-destroying, crisp-munching, sun-adoring, desk-hogging, cardboard-clawing, fountain of pee. Good-bye my friend Smudge.

Autumn

2010-11-03T20:01:00.002Z

Frosty mornings are back.

The sparrow and chaffinch kids have flown the nest. The adults disappeared during their moult too but are gradually reappearing.

Someone else is back. Can you see him?

He’s very busy stocking up on sunflower seeds for the winter.

Over and over again he jumps down onto the step,

gallops across to the rowan tree, too quick for the camera to catch.

He roots among the discarded sunflower husks under the feeders looking for seeds that have been tossed aside by my wastrel birds.

He stuffs his cheeks and heads back for his burrow.

He seems unaware that he is being closely monitored and not just by me. A well camouflaged Grande Dame hides in the grass above the step. She watches but she doesn’t pounce. Maybe October isn’t the mousing season,

or maybe two mice are too much for ole fatso to handle.

Mr and Mrs working together.

I have visions of them curled up together in January, sleeping on their mound of sunflower seeds, mouse treasure more valuable than a dragon’s hoard.

July to August

2010-08-08T22:22:00.002+01:00

This poor robin sums up July, as usual it started to rain at the end of June and just forgot to stop.

At least he has fat cakes to keep his energy up.

There are three robin fledglings in the garden, all very independent and quite strident in their demands that everybody clear out off their patch.

Baby birds have been everywhere. Some fledglings are so cute they look like they should be Bambi’s best friend.

This chaffinch obviously agreed as he fed his fledgling assiduously all day.

Much to the sparrow fledgling’s disgust.

Other bird families are less well mannered. They arrive in a rowdy group and the kids trample their parents underfoot to get at the food.

I call this pair Asbo and Yob:

Then there was the blackbird fledgling who sat on top of the food and waited for his father to drop the kibbled peanuts directly into his mouth.

My favourite was this little goldfinch who did the “feed me” wing wiggle so hopefully at every passing sparrow.

Meanwhile the parent bird was stuffing its beak at the feeders muttering, “you’re on your own mate!”

What else?

The bees have been luxuriating in the hawkweed pollen. I’m glad I left it to flower even if it is a weed.

The honeysuckle recovered from its severe pruning last year and attracted a lot of attention from the hoverflies.

I saw a red admiral on the hebe, so brilliant with its wings open,

and so well camouflaged when it sat on this dead flower with its wings closed.

Loadsa tatties,

courgettes and broadbeans.

and Midgefarm an unkempt jungle.

Damsels and Dragons {outside the garden}

2010-07-03T15:30:00.002+01:00

A few weeks ago a generous friend showed me where to find damsels and dragons ------> in his garden pond!

There were numerous large red damsels flying over the pond. Many were already paired up, like this couple resting in tandem on a fern overhanging the pond. Once paired they fly in tandem and dip down to the pond surface where the female positions the end of her abdomen beneath the water surface and lays her eggs.

A short five minute walk away was a larger body of water which provided a habitat for all sorts of busy, buzzing things. There were many large red damselflies again. This one was enjoying a little light lunch. I wonder what lunch was. It looks as big as the damsel . She munched her way steadily through it, although she does look a bit bulgy eyed in the second photo.

There were lots and lots of these dainty blue tailed damsels, many in mating wheels like this pair. According to this website: British dragonfly society, the male forms of this species are always blue but the females have five different colour forms. Some are blue like the one mating here. The female is the lower of the pair with her abdomen curved round beneath her head.The females may also have an olive green thorax or a pale brown thorax, and there are immature forms that can be violet or pink.

I think the two damsels below are female blue tails but they look quite different to each other. The top pic is definitely a blue tailed female but is it pale brown or olive green? I’m not certain about the next one. It’s olive green in colour but more iridescent than the other blue tails I’ve seen, the wings look as if they may be pigmented and its tail spot is not obvious. Perhaps that is just the sun catching it.

Another wheel, again not sure about female type, brown or olive green?

I’m pretty certain that the female in this wheel is the pale brown type.

And of course we saw dragons! These four spotted chasers could be seen whirring around across the pond or settling on grasses.

Finally a whole colony of small pearl bordered fritillaries were flying in the field above the pond. They were very restless, flitting from one flower to another, rarely staying more than a few seconds. Tantalising when I have never seen, let alone photographed a fritillary before. I couldn’t get close enough so this pic was taken in frustration with the digital zoom. According to UK butterfies they are a priority species for conservation.Many thanks to Errol for a wonderful afternoon at the dragon’s lair.

May to Midsummer

2010-06-22T14:20:00.002+01:00

Her highness has been nagging. She feels she hasn’t had enough exposure in recent months. I point out that doing her ablutions in public gives her more than enough exposure,

but the steely eyed gaze continually boring into my back is unnerving.

So here it is, a catch up post. A month in a spring garden is a long, long time.

Went back to Arduaine with Mum and Dad on the May day bank holiday.

The blooms were superb but that post will now have to be postponed until the dark days of winter.

Midge farm has had its share of the gorgeous:

and the not so gorgeous. These keep appearing in my weed buckets but I believe they eat slugs so they are very welcome.

The mouse has been about but, now the undergrowth is so thick, the most I see is his long tail whipping into the wall.

I let the cuckoo flower grow at will and the May garden was full of orange tip butterflies.

A speckled wood male visited for the first time:

Blue Peter exploded into a froth of spotty, girly, lilac loveliness.

Baby birds have been everywhere. The spugs were the first to fledge. There have, I think, been three separate broods. There are so many now I can’t count them as they won’t stay still, over 25 at times. They’re eating me out of house and home but I’m happy to see them as they are suffering declines elsewhere.

The great tit has been the hardest worker. Six fledglings who followed him round for weeks.

And of course the starlings come swooping in bringing their noisy kids.

The dunnocks are around and much bolder than last year but I haven’t seen any fledglings.

A collared dove with partial albinism has been a regular visitor, always alone. The doves with regular plumage are rarely apart. The RSPB says birds with albinism may have difficulty finding a mate. I hope that isn’t the case for this one.

Smudge is bird watching too. She is scared of the hoodies but intrigued when they come to eat her left over dinner.

On the upper tier I have left the clover to romp away and it is covered with bumble bees every day.

This little lad is in the paddock behind Midge farm and often hangs over the fence on the upper tier snorting at Smudge.

Any idea what these are:

or this?

Luckily my veg containers have escaped their attentions. My first ever tatties! I hope the courgettes are meant to have yellow leaves, the fruits are a yellow, mildew resistant variety.

Had my first ever Midge farm, broad beans for dinner last night. The bees and I thank Dad for the plant.

May and June have been filled with long sunny days. Fingers crossed that it continues.

That brings us to Midsummer, and a beautiful sunset at 10:30 last night.

But the last word is always reserved for:

We’re waking up

2010-04-20T19:58:00.002+01:00

Midgefarm is stirring.

The mice are on the move. A new run under the compost bin keeps Old Podge sternly focused on the upper tier.

Meanwhile the mouse has decamped to the roots of the rowan tree two tiers below and sits happily stuffing its cheeks with bird seed.

The blackbird has been singing his heart out all week in the sycamore. Winter still lives in the shade of the woods behind the house

but even there Spring has crept in.

Spring, an exhausting time for some.

Poor Patty Bee

2010-04-09T16:20:00.002+01:00

Garden and blog have been neglected for what seems like months and it shows. My poor patch is suffering from the combined effects of a harsh winter and an inattentive gardener. It’s a midden but I console myself with the thought that the birds and bugs don’t care and may even benefit from the mess.

I saw the first bumble bee today (although she may have been around before, I just haven’t been out in the garden to see her.)

There are very few flowers out, just a few brave primroses which I’m not even sure bumbles feed on. Is she a queen? She was paying a lot of attention to the ground and I wondered if she was looking for a nesting site.

And no I haven’t named her Patty Bee, though come to think of it I may do so. The Patty Bee in the title is my poor dwarf rhodie which I don’t think will survive. A winter of repeated freeze/thaws has left a sad, wizened little plant. This time last year she was a riot of pale yellow buds.

But amidst the loss and chaos there are some small triumphs. I planted this globe flower last year. It seemed to take one look at my garden and collapse in a wilted, slimy heap (a not uncommon occurrence among plants and people faced with my midge farm for the first time) but here it is apparently back in strength and making me very happy.

Geranium splish splash (grown from seed last year) is looking robust in among the weeds.

Camellia donation is almost out, many of the buds are frosted but I think there will be enough for a show.and Mum’s teasels are looking good.

I’ve been travelling a lot recently hence the Garden of Neglect. This week I was out on the Uists, a network of tiny islands linked by causeways.

At first glance the landscape appears very brown and barren, splashes of colour stand out because they are so unusual.

But then your eye adapts and you realise how beautiful a landscape without trees can be. There are greylag geese grazing everywhere, like rabbits, and the mudflats all around are covered in an amazing variety of wading birds.

It was frustrating that I was working and couldn’t stop but just from the car I think I saw a corncrake and watched a buzzard dive down by the side of the road to take a wriggling vole up in it’s claws.

I had a couple of hours at the end of the visit while waiting for the Loch Maddy ferry. But the tide was relatively high and the terminal didn’t support the population of waders I saw elsewhere

Looking closely however I could see some oystercatchers roosting in the kelp.

And it was peaceful watching the calmac ferry slowly appear on the horizon coming to take me home.

This post approved for publication by my expert advisor:

Arduaine Gardens

2010-02-21T11:36:00.002Z

A discrete sign by the side of the road whispering, “Scottish snowdrop festival,” tempts you down the path to this woodland garden. At the bottom of the hill, a louder, multicoloured sign confesses that the snowdrops are struggling but promises early blooming Rhod. nobleanum and Rhod. mucronatum.

You’re hooked and enter the garden. The sheltered hillside is planted with a vast collection of rhodies, camellias, azaleas and other exotics. Even on a bitter February day this creates a fabulous patchwork of textures and shades of green that stop you in your tracks.

Tranquil ponds reflect the sky and sea which you glimpse just beyond the trees.

And everywhere there is a promise of Spring.

The path leads you into denser woodland.

The canopy closes over your head and you marvel at the height of the tree rhodies, their elegant, crenellated leaves and the beautiful contrasts of bronzes and greens.

Are you feeling claustrophobic?

Don’t worry just around the corner a viewpoint opens up a breathtaking seascape.

Back into the wild and woolly wood. The damp climate means many of the older plants are draped with moss and lichen.

Huge plate like leaves capture and hold fallen pine needles.

The incline is so gradual you don’t realise you have climbed half way up the glen until a break in the wall of green shows a tree rhodie just coming into bloom.

A gentle stroll brings you to the top and the garden spreads out beneath you.

A rustling at your feet makes you jump. You look down and see a blackbird rootling industriously through the deep leaf litter. He glances up for a moment to meet your eye but he is used to visitors and returns, unconcerned, to his work. You are conscious, for the first time, that the garden is filled with bird song. Spring is round the corner and they have territories to defend. What a gorgeous habitat.

Now the path meanders down the hill, the rock faces are covered with a living tapestry of greens.

You’re almost back at the car park. You turn to take a last look. It could be a long goodbye.

The future of Arduaine is uncertain. The garden is over 100 years old and houses a unique collection rhodies and azaleas. It was gifted to the public, in the care of the Scottish National Trust, by its owners in 1992. Last year the trust announced it could no longer afford the upkeep and proposed closing the gardens. Protesters won a one year reprieve and are trying to raise funds to support Arduaine.

Arduaine Garden

National Trust

I dried washing outside!

2010-02-11T14:30:00.007Z

I can hear the, "Yeah, so what?" bulbs pinging on all over the place but this is early February on the West coast of Scotland and I dried a heavy cotton wash outside. We should be having lashing rain and gales. Instead it is cold at nights with a dry wind and sun during the day. Lovely.
Cold temperatures always seem to be accompanied by beautiful sunrises. Sometimes the loch and sky glow with flaming orange.

The intense colour lasts for only a few minutes before fading to more subtle lilacs and then greys and gold that echo my winter garden.

One phrase I frequently read in gardening mags is that winter allows you to see the bare bones of a garden. I think my poor patch has scoliosis, rickets and brittle bone disease, but I can at least see the bare bones of the hydrangea mopheads. They have turned into delicate little puffs of antique lace.

I can't understand why hydrangeas have been labelled unfashionable and unpopular when they work so hard. My bushes flowered prolifically all summer in a radiant patchwork of electric blues, shocking pinks and lilacs. They flowered right through Autumn, getting frosted by degrees until December turned them into these beautiful skeletons. How can something so gorgeous be unfashionable?

Smudge has resumed her neglected-cat-inna-jug routine. We're having a slight dispute over what constitutes cat food. You'd think she'd be pleased that, after a summer on the Coops economy cat chow, she's been upgraded to Felix's, "As Good As it Gets." Ha! Apparently cats don't want, "nutritionally balanced, tender, delicious, meaty steaklets, cooked in their own juices for an unforgettable taste and aroma". A cat served with this dross will look with contempt at the offending handmaiden, sniff the dish with utter disdain and walk away with a fastidious shake of a hind foot. What cats really want is mango, papaya and passion fruit yoghurt, or cheese and ham sandwiches or hot buttered toast (pet food companies please take note). Cats who are denied their share will go and sulk by the compost bin and plan careful revenge, which usually involves eating a bellyful of grass and regurgitating it noisily all over the sofa.

Couldn't have a post without a robin pic.

But guess who has the last word.

Bud and his buddies

2010-01-24T22:47:00.001Z

I decided to practice close-up shots on the rhodie buds yesterday.

The results were not happy.

I was using a tripod so it's not shake. The camera kept fixing on objects behind the bud. There's no alternative, I am going to have to take the cd out of its plastic wrapper and read the camera instructions.

I got so fed up I decided to name the robin Bud and focus on him instead. He often follows me round the garden. He sat in the weigela, turning his head from side to side watching me. I hadn't realised the adults retain speckles, or is he one of last years juves?

The blue tit is always fearless and kept noshing on the remains of a fat ball even though I was only a couple of feet away.

The blackbirds are usually shyer but this one landed on the bank and didn't realise I was standing beneath him until he looked up and met my eyes.

It's getting lighter in the mornings so we're not seeing such colourful sunrises but, to compensate, the evening skies have been beautiful.

Took some more shots of buds today just hand held and they looked better..... the boss approved anyway.

winter dreams

2010-01-21T20:00:00.001Z

The loch is in a grumpy mood, grey waters whipped by squally winds and flecked with rain. We haven't seen the sun today, just layers of cloud in a permanent grey twilight. The cat, like the loch, is in a strop. There have been strangers in the house (joiners measuring the office), so she has retired to bed and will only open one eye when I speak to her.

We're both tired of Winter and dreaming of Spring.

Smudge is dreaming of wall watch and the dozens of fat mice she is convinced live in the mossy crevices under the bird table.

I am dreaming and drooling over my rhodies, azaleas and camellias. I was worried these plants would not survive the hard frosts. This is rhododendron blue peter, a gift from Mum and Dad last year.

I thought he was going to drop all his leaves but Mum assured me this was just a survival mechanism. He seems to have bounced back.

I hope those big buds haven't been frosted, in a couple of months they should produce clusters of frothy, spotted, lilac which remind me of orchids.

This camellia is a favourite.

It was in the garden when I bought the house, so I don't know its name. In the summer the leaves stick out horizontally like lots of little saucers. It wouldn't look out of place as a plant prop on the set of a 1960s sci fi series.

Here it is at Christmas. I hadn't noticed the leaves curling up like that before, another clever plant way of hunkering down and surviving the cold.

It seems to be recovering, look at all those buds. Come on spring, come on, come on, come on.

New plants. Rhododendron nova zembla, a Christmas present from my lovely nieces, arrived by courier with its compost frozen in a solid block.

I don't know how many days it had been in transit but it must have been in some very cold vans. I didn't think it would recover but it went in the garage, by the window, for a couple of weeks until the temperatures rose and I think it has come through OK. At least it hasn't dropped its leaves, although some are a little frosted. I think I will plant it here, in front of the pampas, above Peter, if the soil is deep enough. It will produce deep red trumpet flowers with dark spots inside, which I hope will complement and contrast against Pete's frothy girliness.

Mum and Dad gave me this camellia sasanqua tanya, an autumn/winter flowering variety.

It produces, small, pink, single flowers like a dog rose and will provide a romantic hint of colour when all else is muted browns and burnt greens in this garden. It is low growing so I think I'll plant it in the gap between this old tree stump and the log edging and hope to train it down over the rock.

Great minds, because I had bought Mum and Dad this camellia sasanqua papaver and (of course) one for myself.

It's another Autumn flowerer. This time a bush plant and supposed to be scented, a thing I miss from my Spring camellias. The flowers are similar to Tanya, a bit larger, softer, pale pink single booms. I'm not sure where to put mine. It prefers a sheltered site with warmth and light and well drained soil. Ho hum, not easy when all you have is a vertical bog plonked in the middle of a wind tunnel. I've been gormless again. When will I learn to buy plants for position not prettiness? I left both papavers outside over Christmas and they froze solid to the ground. I couldn't move either of them, so Mum and Dad had to go home without their present. Amazingly both plants seem to be OK. They did drop some leaves and others are looking a little burnt but they each have healthy looking buds.

I think I have been luckier than I deserve. I should have looked after my newbies better.

Nordic invasion

2010-01-10T12:57:00.019Z

Never had one of these as a garden visitor before, in either Tillicoultry or Argyll. He arrived three days ago and since then has been continually rousting every other bird in the garden. He is indiscriminate in his bullying, little dunnocks, finches, thrushes, blackbirds, all are sent scurrying away. He seems to do it for pure devilment, as they know better than to approach him or try to nick his apple.

He's a fieldfare, a migrant from scandinavia and very Viking in his habits, plundering, roistering and scaring the natives. I've decided to call him Thaw. So, when I shake my fist and scream, "Thaw, you effer," through the kitchen window, I accomplish two things. I'm scolding him plus giving the garden instructions.
I was blaming Thaw for all the apples disappearing. I seem to be going through three a day now but then I noticed him sulking in a corner.

At last, a native bird who wasn't scared of him. I put the apples out for blackbirds and I suppose this hoodie qualifies, he's a bird and he's black, though he seems to think I'm running a takeaway service.

I'm so pleased to see the song thrush, in fact, there are two visiting. They are usually far too shy to come to the feeders but for the last two weeks have been busy tucking in with the chaffinches and blackbirds.

I thought I'd lost the cat. I realised I'd had hours of peace, no one mithering on and on and on......... why can't you make it warmer outside........ why is the conservatory door closed........what do you mean it's too cold .........open it now........immediately.........jeez it's cold in there.....why have you got the conservatory door open.......don't you know old cats are susceptible to cold.........why hasn't any fresh food been put down in the last 15 minutes..... oh you have put something down.......what is this rubbish........are you a cat poisoner...... don't you know cats only eat strawberry yoghurt licked from a dessert spoon........what's that in the oven......hmmm fresh roasted chicken breast.........who said cats only ate strawberry yoghurt....are you mad.

Like I said, an unusual period of quiet aroused my suspicions. I thought she might have sneaked through to the bedrooms when I wasn't looking and was either curled up under my duvet, or expressing her disgust at the inclement weather with her signature activity. Luckily all was quiet and clean. Then I started to worry. People have fallen and frozen to death outside, she is an old cat and a bit wobbly on her legs, it is very icy and we'd had more snow. I had visions of a sad little pile of orange and white fur slowly stiffening by her favourite compost bin. Outside and up those icy, snowy steps I went. I searched the garden from top tier to bottom tier. No Smudge.

You're right. Of course, she hadn't stuck so much as a whisker outside. Instead she'd found a new bed, with extra insulation, in this old box.

outside the garden

2010-01-04T12:54:00.000Z

The garden looks out over Loch Gilp, a small inlet of Loch Fyne. At the head of the loch the water is shallow and low tide exposes mud flats that support dozens of wading birds and gulls. Dad and I stood at the head of the loch this week, just as the sun was setting, and watched the birds moving out at low tide.

It was a cold, but beautiful, still afternoon. The birds were roosting on the shore of a small spur of land.

There were oyster catchers, curlews, blackheaded gulls, dunlins redshanks and a very grumpy, cold looking heron hunched up at the back.

As the tide went out they started to wake up, preen and move off into the water.

Within minutes the water was studded with little black figures wading or treadling with their feet to bring up worms and shell fish.

You might, if you were driving past, think those black blobs off the spur were just seaweed beds exposed by the low tide but they are actually birds moving out to feed.

It was too cold to stand for long, so as the sun set over lochgilphead we headed back, stopping only to watch this redshank delicately tiptoeing along the icy shore looking for razor clams.

From magic to mud

2009-12-29T10:29:00.021Z

The snow is receding from the loch side

but still lingering on the hills.

It is thawing very slowly during the day and freezing hard at night, so we have a lot of muddy ice around.

I have Jeyes fluid ready to clean the whole feeding area but couldn't chip the ice away so will have to wait for better temperatures. It is depressing to look out on though. The birds are hungry and cold. Even the little dunnock has lost its shyness and stands hopping from one cold foot to the other as it waits for its chance by the feeders.

The blue tit, one of my favourite garden residents, is smaller than the dunnock but a lot bolder.

He competes with chaffinches for peanuts but is very versatile and scours my window ledges and eaves for insects.

He scuttles up and down the silver birch, like a tree creeper, picking insects from the bark.

They are favourites because a blue tit couple nested in my bird box this spring. They are the only birds ever to use a box I've put up, so I feel quite proprietary towards them and was a very proud Aunty when the two chicks fledged.

Meanwhile Smudge is snoring, face down on her cushion. I wonder if she's been at the gin. I knew I couldn't have emptied that whole bottle!

Wishing you all a magical Christmas from the midgefarm crystal garden

2009-12-24T13:36:00.014Z

Thank you for your visits, comments, reactions and advice this year and for sharing your own gorgeous gardens.

Yan and Smudge.

More snow, cat and birds

2009-12-23T13:36:00.023Z

It snowed on and off yesterday, quite heavily in the afternoon.

I ventured out after dark to empty the kitchen caddy into the compost bin.

I was followed.

She wouldn't walk in the unbroken snow, only on my foot prints.

I could almost hear her muttering, "Are you kidding me? All the way up there? My paws are frozen."

" Seriously! I'll come but you've got to carry me."

I'm not sure why she followed me. She would probably like the caption to read, "Plucky little cat ensures owner does not disappear in arctic conditions," but the reality is more likely to be, "Greedy little cat keeps an eye on meal ticket."

If I did fall over and freeze to death in the garden. I would be found in the morning, with the cat sitting on me, complaining that her seat was cold and her breakfast was late.

Another freezing night left the birds all fluffed out to twice their normal size,

hopping from one foot to another because their toes were cold.

The robin was swearing at everyone. He thinks the feeding area should be for his use only.

He did however strike some very pretty Christmas poses so I forgave him.

Some of the shyer birds are now coming to the feeders, a greenfinch and a goldfinch visited today.

The spugs and chaffinches are still there in abundance, keeping the otter company.

The snow post

2009-12-20T10:44:00.016Z

Late to the party but the white stuff has arrived, even on the West coast.

There's a lot of disgruntled birds.

My otter looks like a bedlington terrier.

There are seven blackbirds in the garden today, two juveniles have joined the throng. The cold seems to have made them more tolerant of each other. There are four of them in this shot. Normally, if they were that close to each other, they would be playing an endless game of ring-a-ring-a-roses around the bushes, with no bird ever static for more than a couple of seconds.

If possible Smudge is even more disgruntled than the birds. She spent the morning oscillating between the window

and the cat flap, convinced that at some point she would find summer outside one of them.

Eventually she gave up and commandeered my knee, giving me filthy looks whenever I pointed out I had things to do, clothes to wash and presents to wrap.

Worm worries

2009-12-09T23:52:00.046Z

I opened up my compost bin last week and found worm city central. There were dozens of them, all sizes but I think mostly the same species. I have never seeded the bin with any worms, so they have arrived naturally but why were they so far up the bin?

Why were they under the rim? Are they trying to escape? Aren’t they happy? Could it be too acid? Too wet? I live on a vertical bog and it had been raining for weeks when this pic was taken.

I’ve had plastic compost bins for as long as I’ve been gardening (nine years) and have never seen the worms so obvious at the top. It makes me worried that the lower layers are inhospitable.

Since then we have had a cold snap with a week of frosty nights. I opened up the bin this morning and there wasn't a worm in sight. I guess they were all deep down looking for insulation.

The cold, clear weather produces some fabulous sun rises.

Some soft and serene,

some dark and dramatic,

The freezing temperatures have brought more birds into the garden. There are now five blackbirds, three boys and two girls. They don't share food. I can't work out who is top bird but the two girls are definitely at the bottom and constantly being rousted off titbits by the boys. They'll regret it in the Spring when someone is birdy-no-mates. I suspect it will be this lad. He seems to have missed the class on posing with attitude which the others have all taken. I know it's not a good pic but I was laughing as he was jiving, so there was a lot of shoogle.

These cool boys show Daffy how it should be done.

My tree decorations

2009-12-07T18:29:00.021Z

The leaves have gone but the branches don't look bare. They are decorated instead by lots of little, russet, chaffinch baubles.

Of course the blackbird and robin don't like to be outdone and take every opporunity to strike dramatic poses.

This little tosser has no time for such frivolity. He has more important things to do, like emptying my seed feeder.

He's a coal tit of course. I call him a tosser not to be rude but because that is what he does. He tosses all my seed on the ground and then flies away with the one sunflower seed that meets his stringent standards, only to bury it in one of my pots. This female chaffinch is pretty fed up with his routine. I can see her peeking round the trunk thinking, "There he goes playing with his food again."

She loses patience and chases him off, takes a seed and like a sensible bird flies up in to the boughs to eat it.

The minute her back is turned the tit is back tossing seed on the ground.

Others manage to share the feeders more amicably.

A peachy November morning,

2009-11-28T12:34:00.023Z

frosty and still.

As the sun warmed up, the loch was briefly filled with mist.

This weekend I've been able to stop for breath and look around. I planted Mum's teasels on the bank at the back of the garden some weeks ago.

You can't see them?

There they are. They seem to have established OK. This bank is always a bit of a mess and I'm going to leave it that way. There's a pile of broken planks and fencing under those cut rushes to the left, which I hope is providing winter shelter for assorted wildlife. I'm going to plant more native species to join the teasels by gathering seeds from hedgerows, starting with red campion. I also have a beautiful deep red buddleia which I'm going to put in next to the hebe. I was disappointed that the butterflies didn't spend more time in the garden this Summer. I hope the buddleia will rectify that next year. I was standing, thinking and planning and basking in the joy of a garden, when this little lady flew down and started feeding right in front of me.

I should know what these plants are, they've been a familiar sight since childhood, when we used to run the stems through our fingers to pick the dried seeds off but I have no idea of its name, some sort of plantain? I have thought of it as a pest in the garden. It springs up everywhere, is a real bully, swamping other growth when it gets going and is difficult to remove. I didn't know the finches fed on it but this little girl was tucking in and fearless even though I was standing very close by. I think she must be one of this Summer's fledglings there is something shiny and new about her. It looks as if I am going to have to let those bully boy plants stay, at least on the bank, if they feed finches.

She left when the blackbird flew onto the fence post to ask why he hadn't had his daily apple. I reckon it counts as one of my five-a-day if the blackbird eats them. Apples are bought, apples are eaten, job done.

Grumpy old Smudge came and sat on the compost bin and glowered at us both,

looking like a little furry ET. She doesn't like cold mornings, the frost nips her toes and freezes her bum when she sits down. I tell her it's not my fault but she won't listen.

Just the cat

2009-11-16T20:11:00.024Z

I'm taking liberties with a garden blog by posting just about a cat. I could justify it by saying she shares the garden with me but "share" is the wrong word when she views me as some sort of inadequate servant/prey substitute.
She insists she has to drink outside. Water inside, from the tap, is not good enough. I suppose, she has a point, tap water is chlorinated and probably offends her delicate taste buds BUT she has rules for what she drinks outside. It has to be water from a particular plastic jug. There are plenty of vessels, bird baths, plastic buckets around the garden and even a water bowl especially for her, all filled with exactly the same rain water but none of them are good enough.

If I haven't kept her plastic jug filled with water, she sticks her head right to the bottom and makes a huge drama about being Very Thirsty, in fact Dying of Thirst, trying Really Hard to lick a few precious drops from the bottom. All this with a massive water feature two inches from her parched head and a water bowl right beneath her.

As I've mentioned before, her other garden pleasure is ambushing me. It doesn't seem to matter that the larch has dropped all it's needles, she still thinks she's invisible. I watched her doing the head wiggle that means she's about to pounce but wasn't quick enough to catch her taking off , so here she is just coming in, ears back, tail arched, for a quick ankle swipe.

Finally she may think she's Queen of the garden but the birds have other ideas.

What self respecting cat walks round with bird poo on her back?

One nil to the birds I think.

Autumn

2009-11-09T08:57:00.019Z

My poor neglected blog. I’ve been swamped with work and avoiding the internet as it seems to exist in a different timeline; you drop in for a couple of minutes and two hours vanishes.
This weekend I cleared my desk for the first time in four weeks and got out into the garden. As if in reward Sunday was a beautiful crystalline Autumn day. The first serious overnight frost gave the air a lung scrubbing clarity. My lovely hydrangeas were singed but they’d been well warned. I’d told them they shouldn’t be putting out new buds in November, they needed to hunker down and get ready for winter.
The birds were hungry, even the dunnock was bolder than usual. Silly to get excited by an LBJ (little brown job) but they are so shy, they scuttle around in the bushes like little mice, which, I suppose, is how they earned their other name, the hedge sparrow.

The blackbird has long since stripped the rowan of all its berries and has now started on this shrub. I think it’s a cotoneaster but, as I didn’t plant it, I’m not sure. It has tiny pink flowers in early summer which the wasps and red bottomed bumble bees adored.

He has also been scrubbing around under the trees and collecting grass. I wonder if this is for a winter roost, he can’t be nest building.
I pottered around doing late autumn tidy up tasks, followed, as usual, by the robin. He is convinced that one day I am going to morph into a proper gardener and do some serious digging that will turn up the worms he loves. I stopped for a moment to look down the loch, breathing in lungfuls of the crisp clear air. The robin, impatient with my inactivity, flew into the weigela and started to sing. I’d never noticed his song before, only his “dik dik dik” alarm call when I put out the food, (which I always thought was a bit ungrateful, what’s alarming about someone feeding you?)
It was so unexpected and beautiful and quite melancholy, the essence of a frosty Autumn day.

It got cold very quickly once the sun went down. I came inside switched the radio on and they were discussing this poem by Edward Thomas:
Adlestrop

Yes. I remember Adlestrop---

The name, because one afternoon

Of heat the express-train drew up there

Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.

No one left and no one came

On the bare platform. What I saw

Was Adlestrop---only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,

And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,

No whit less still and lonely fair

Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang

Close by, and round him, mistier,

Farther and farther, all the birds

Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

Different bird, different countryside, different season and a different time but it evokes beautifully the still moment when you stop and hear unexpected birdsong.

New toys

2009-10-29T17:57:00.019Z

A camera for me and a box for Smudge.

Just practicing on a dramatic sunrise.

Collared doves, wondering when their seed waitress is going to stop clicking and start serving breakfast.

I know he's not in focus but I like this chaffinich posing on my otter. (Nasturtiums are still blooming!)

I have tried for ages to get a good pic of a dunnock but I'm going to have to make do with this dunnock's bottom.

Anything still flowering? Well yes the hydrangea is looking gorgeous,

the fuschias are still dancing,

and the Mum is in her prime.

A short day, 3:30pm and the sun goes down in moody blues as rain rolls up the loch.

Cat mint

2009-10-20T10:05:00.022+01:00

This cat mint grows in my Gran's garden in Shropshire. It has always attracted cats. At the moment bad boy Thomas is luxuriating in the growth and flattening the plant (thanks to Mum for the photos).

When I moved to Tillicoultry and the small patch of builders rubble that became my first garden, Mum gave me two cuttings of the plant. They struggled after planting out because Smudge the Incontinent loves cat mint and reduced both cuttings to little hairy twigs sticking out of the ground. I had to put cages over both of them to allow them to establish. Once protected they grew into beautiful robust plants that Smudge adored and which attracted all the neighbours' cats.

Smudge, head down in the mint sniffing ecstatically.

Miss Milly giving Smudge "evils" from the garden wall, she wants that mint.

Eventually I moved from Tillicoultry to Argyll. I divided the mint and took two healthy chunks with me. One clump did not survive the transfer to the pot, the other thrived for a short while until Smudge found it in it's pot and reduced it to a hairy twig once more. I planted this mint on the third tier with the periwinkle and potentilla. I couldn't protect it with a cage on the steep bank and it didn't survive the affection lavished on it by fatty and various visiting felines.

Luckily Carol at work had grown several cat mints from seed and gave me one of her thriving plants. I planted this in a difficult, shady, damp area on the first tier and it has romped away, mainly because the cats have ignored it. Apparently it lacks the attraction of my Gran's special Shropshire catmint. Looks just as pretty to me but then I'm not a catmint junky.

The Mum from Mum

2009-10-19T12:37:00.004+01:00

Mum and Dad visited at the weekend. Mum brought this beautiful Mum:

and a box of teasels. I'm going to plant these on the wildflower bank at the top of the garden. "Wildflower/Wildlife area" is the posh way I now refer to any untidy/unkempt parts of the garden.

Dad brought:

If I wasn't such a grateful daughter, I might suggest there was a small glut gloat going on. The artichokes were yum with roast duck and I have enough left to make soup today.

Wildflowers

2009-10-11T20:05:00.010+01:00

Still camera-less so thought I would catch up on some of the things I meant to post this summer but never got round to. I know I'll be stating the blindingly obvious when I say that the midgefarm is not a manicured garden. The bonus of the untidiness is all the wonderful wildflowers that pop up.

Spring starts with banks of primroses on the first tier before even the azaleas are out.

Just as these start to fade, the bluebells in the grass above are reaching their prime. Of course this means I don't cut the grass (yippee) and there are daisies in abundance.

Then as the bluebells die back the foxgloves start waving for attention.

I have two grassy banks on the third tier. I have planted a blue ceanthus, a periwinkle and a pale yellow potentilla on the first bank. I had visions of the blue and pale yellow growing in a mix together. But nature put together a much prettier mix. This bank was covered in cuckoo flowers in spring which the orange tip butterflies loved. This slowly gave way to hawkweed, selfheal and clover. The bank was constantly buzzing with bumble bees and hoverflies and all sorts of grasshoppers singing. I think I may have to move my plants and let nature have her way.

There are other more secretive plants hiding in little clumps. This sweet forget-me-not lives on the second bank.

I didn't tidy the grass round this old tree stump as there was a speedwell looking very pretty growing through it.

And those are just the few photos I could find (my files are as tidy as my garden). There's so much more, several types of St John's wort, creeping Jenny, ferns, willows, hazels all unplanned but all very welcome.

camera-less

2009-10-03T19:27:00.007+01:00

I've been using a little point and click kodak, good enough for a beginner like me but didn't do close ups very well, tended to focus on things behind the object I wanted and nothing would persuade it to change its mind. I took it with me to Belfast last week and it was still in my bag when I went North this week. All that travel seems to have fried its chips, when I turned it on today the screen showed a blank field of white with just the odd ghostly outline. A couple of weeks ago this would have meant the end of blog photos but my work worries are almost over, so I'm going to celebrate and buy a new camera. No point choosing something fancy whose features I won't understand. I've decided on a Canon powershot A480. It has a 1cm macro, allegedly focuses rapidly and has a short time between shots, all things I have found lacking with the kodak.

That's not to say it hasn't done a good job over the summer and produced images that sometimes surprised me. I love this bee flying up to the foxglove with its tongue hanging out; the snub nose of this painted lady against a riot of azalea flowers; and the way the light catches this con trail.

crazy

2009-09-27T08:45:00.006+01:00

A busy week so I have neglected garden and blog. Went for a quiet amble round between rain showers this morning, closely monitored by the spugs

and something lurking in the undergrowth.

She thinks I can't see her. In her mad little cat brain she's an ambush predator stalking deer in the forest.

I cross the lawn and she leaps out, ears flat, back arched, tail in an s-bend and swipes at my ankles before galloping up to the compost bin, where she sits, innocently, with a, "Who me?", expression on her face.

If I point out that I knew she was there all the time and her behaviour is really undignified for a sixteen year old senior citizen, she looks affronted and pretends she has no idea what I'm talking about.

The garden is as mad as the cat. The roses are in bloom and getting scalded by the rain and the weigela has decided that late September is the perfect time to put out flowers.

Mad they may be, but still lovely to see so late in the year.

a peaceful potter round

2009-09-20T14:15:00.014+01:00

The loch was in a girly mood yesterday. It started the day with stripes of pink in the sky, turning the water a soft coral grey and it ended with a serene patchwork of rose and turquoise.

Anything girly in the garden?

Not these juvenile starlings. They are putting on their studded biker plummage and acting like teens, hanging round the corner shop (aka birdtable) screeching, fighting and hassling other birds. I keep expecting to find cigarette ends littered around the table.

Here's girly. Seven days of sun have brought on a burst of fuschias. They look like something Barbie would wear to Cinderella's ball.

A red September rose. It's even scented. Something seems to enjoy nibbling on the petals.

A warm welcome

2009-09-18T19:08:00.013+01:00

I inherited this minature climbing rose with the garden. Last year it struggled, put out two flowers then dropped all its leaves and remained a brown twig for the summer. This year it has done a little better and an unexpected week of sunshine has encouraged the last buds to open. I checked the label yesterday and discovered it was called Rosa Warm Welcome. So here is a warm welcome for everyone visiting this blog and a thankyou to all the blotanists who have made me so welcome at blotanical.com.

It's been a soft, silvery day, a hint of drizzle but no real rain, for which we are truly thankful.

I'm looking at my garden with fresh eyes. This ordinary geranium now reminds of a rock rose I saw when Amy (Go away I'm gardening) took a walk around Zilker Botanical Garden in Austin.

I wish I could remember which blog showed the clouds of white Japanese anemones. They were beautiful. There is a pink anemone in Gururajr's Japanese Garden (natch) that could be a sister to this one, though it doesn't have the bird droppings that mine have accumulated. I wish you could get no mess birds to go with the no mess bird seed!

And I know I have seen some lovely calendulas somewhere exotic recently, but my simple brain refuses to give up any more details than that. Never mind, these simple plants give simple pleasure simply everywhere.

Lavatera.....again

2009-09-16T21:15:00.008+01:00

Not these rain dodging divas, though a week of sun has inspired them to a final flourish. Too late, they are going to join the foxgloves mulching quietly in a heap of black bin bags, waiting for an empty compost bin.

No, I’m talking about the poor tree mallow, Lavatera Barnsley. The one I planted in the most exposed position in the garden; the one that bloomed prettily for one season then spent the winter with its root ball alternately frozen or rocking in salt winds; the one that for most of its second year was a cluster of wizened twigs with an occasional yellow leaf drooping off it; the one that ended its short life two weeks ago in the wheelie bin rather than the compost, in case it was diseased.

Sigh. It was a pretty plant. So pretty in fact it inspired my neighbour to go online and order one for her garden. This arrived, a healthy little plug plant, in the spring and responded rapidly to the care of a competent gardener. In a couple of months it had achieved almost a foot of growth and was covered in buds.

Then Angus ate it.

All of it

There was nothing left.

Not even a twig to propagate.

Oh, the wailings and gnashing of teeth. Angus had his hairy bottom soundly spanked. (Perhaps I should point out that Angus is my neighbour’s puppy, not her husband).

We commiserated with each other but were both aware there was one more Barnsley tree mallow in the village. This one was in a garden right by the shore and was thriving, obviously well adapted to its salty, windy habitat. The elegant flowers could be seen, blushing daintily, over the fence as less fortunate gardeners drove by with hot, hungry eyes.

The temptation was too much to resist. Last week my lovely neighbour stopped her car and asked the lavatera’s owner if she could have some cuttings. Gardening and generosity seem to go hand in hand, as the cuttings were happily supplied and four of them have been passed on to me.

I have no doubt that my green fingered neighbour will get her mallow established. I’m less certain that my brown, blighted thumbs will have similar success. Time for a quick prayer to the patron saint of lost causes.

Alien abstraction

2009-09-15T00:53:00.004+01:00

Still not raining. I reckon aliens are visiting in the night and sucking all the water out of the sky. I caught them at it this morning.

Choppers, coppers and hawkers

2009-09-12T19:28:00.009+01:00

Another grey start but the sun soon burnt off the clouds and we had a spectacular day.

This helicopter buzzed the garden several times. Don’t know what he was doing, just playing around I suppose.

This is a Scottish garden, so I should acknowledge that the heathers are out.

But they don’t ring my bells. These are much prettier, the last sweet peas of summer.

And this looks like the last copper butterfly. He’s very much the worse for wear, with a huge chunk missing from his wings.

I saw another dragonfly! Not a good pic but he was in an awkward position. I think he’s a male common hawker. That’s two different species in the garden. Both males. I wonder where all the girls have gone.

A beautiful day

2009-09-11T17:50:00.008+01:00

A grey morning but a promise of sun gleaming on the far side of the loch.

A heavy dew overnight left the quinata sparkling with miniature crystal balls on every tip.

The sun soon broke through and encouraged Smudge to behave like a floozy........again.

The garden was suddenly buzzing with insects. This is why I let the hawkweed stay, the bumbles and hoverflies love it.

I discovered this lovely lady by the wheelbarrow. She is beautiful and is catching midges so it looks as if the wheelbarrow is out of bounds for the moment.

What, no rain?

2009-09-08T12:51:00.020+01:00

The weather forecast predicts three days without rain. After six weeks of constant downpour this feels like heaven. Apparently we have had three times the normal amount of rain for August, in fact the heaviest rainfall since 1984. Part of the main road to Glasgow washed away yesterday but now, at last, the clouds are lifting. It's time to start assessing the damage and deciding who's a garden hero and who's a fainthearted pushover.

“Pushover", is just the word for my white lavateras. Such a disappointment, at the first hint of rain and wind in July, they took a dive like a team of premier league footballers, and lay there wailing for the rest of the Summer. Oh they bloomed alright, but what's the point of being covered in flowers if you're whimpering on the ground and the insects are ignoring you? There will be no annual mallows present on any of the tiers next year.

I still, however, have half a packet of seeds and am gardening on a budget so can't afford to waste things. I may plant them in large containers at the front of the house in spring. This is concrete wasteland at present, where nothing grows and nobody goes, so their lack of attraction for insects won't matter. There are sheltered places I can put tubs and they may soften the house's rather austere first impression.

I said, "nothing grows", out the front, that is not strictly true. The pots of fuschias, pelargoniums and surfinias did eventually put on a show but it was a pretty poor effort. I did like the blend of lilacs, lime greens and yellows but the number of flowers was not worth the effort, so next year there will be no more tender bedding plants.

Instead I am going to try collecting seed from my bidens. These have worked so hard. Through every dreary day of rain they have been a band of gleaming yellow on the second tier, promising sunshine to come. I think I will plant them up with the blue pansies (if I can get them to set seed, not a certainty in this climate) and lobelia.

I mentioned this little self seeded lobelia before. It has lapped up the rain and put on a show of flowers when everything else was lying stunned on the ground. I will try to collect seed from this but also still have some old packets of bush and trailing lobelia from my Tilly days. I stopped growing these because I was always away during the sunniest periods and they dried out too rapidly, turning into miniature haystacks which never recovered their bloom. That is not going to be a problem at Midge Farm, so I will try the old seeds in spring and hope they germinate.

Hallelujah

2009-09-07T11:29:00.002+01:00

Sun!

Look blue skies and on the steps Smudge back on wall watch.

Flowering today

2009-09-06T11:26:00.004+01:00

Another day, another solid wall of rain. The garden looks like a battlefield with stunned plants, lying horizontally in muddy craters, or peering nervously out from the undergrowth, wondering when the aerial bombardment is going to stop.
It doesn’t look as if there is going to be much of an autumn show but one or two plants are still struggling to flower for the first time. This little nasturtium self seeded under the rowan tree and is only now putting out intense orange flowers. It clashes horribly with the pink anemones but is welcome none the less for its splash of cheerful colour.
I grew these verbascum phoeniceum from seed in the spring. They germinated well and I had plenty of plants to dot around the beds on the first tier. I hope they will look good with the foxgloves next year and be as popular with the insects. I had more plants than I needed so I dibbled a few in on this awkward ledge. Of course the only ones to flower this year, would be the ones that I can’t see unless I clamber into this difficult space at the side of the garden.
And finally this honeysuckle. It was a very old bushy plant which struggled with an endemic black fly infection. It was covered in the pests last year and they appeared again, very early this spring, in numbers that obscured the few flowers struggling to open. Then some mad woman went and chucked bowl after bowl of coop antibacterial washing up liquid over the bush which promptly went, “Arggggh,” and dropped all its leaves. At that point I cut it back to a few twisted woody stems and thought I would soon be digging it up and throwing it out entirely. I had a very pretty climbing hydrangea from Mum and Dad which I thought would be perfect in the spot. The honeysuckle had other ideas, it immediately sprouted new growth, has grown vigorously all summer, and is now showing these very pretty flowers which are even providing shelter for hover flies. It’s a scarred battlefield hero and has earned its place in the garden. As for the hydrangea, it is now flowering happily beneath the summerhouse and I hope will one day clamber up around the decking.

fried green tomatoes

2009-09-03T15:39:00.004+01:00

It's September 3rd and I have two plants covered in green marmande tomatoes. Its unlikely they will have a chance to ripen outside now.
Lots of recipes for fried green tomatoes on the web so thought I would give them a go. I cut each tomato into three thick slices, dipped them in egg and coated with flour, seasoned with smoked paprika, cayenne and tumeric, then shallow fried coated slices in veg oil. Verdict: OK, nice texture, but a bit flavourless. Won't repeat, may just lay out all green toms in a dark cupboard and see if I can have a supply slowly ripening through the Winter.

Geranium splish splash

2009-09-02T18:43:00.004+01:00

The first in bloom. Grew these from Thompson and Morgan seeds. Had five plants that germinated, four have survived being planted out but aren't as robust as I would expect a hardy geranium to be. This is the first flower, worth the trouble I think.

Blight?

2009-08-31T13:13:00.004+01:00

Lost a whole truss today, over twenty tomatoes. Very fed up.

The loch was pretty though, with the cloud lifting from the hills for a while.

"mists and mellow fruitfulness"?

2009-08-29T14:04:00.010+01:00

Hah, more like "rain and mildewed fustiness", but there are brambles ripening on the top tier. Crumble tonight, yum.

Six solid weeks of rain have even beaten the sea holly into submission. So what is suited to this garden apart from weeds and rhodies?

Well, the Japanese anaemones seem to be thriving at the moment. I'm really taken with this little glade. It was full of woody overgrown heathers when I arrived. (In fact you can see them in the blog heading photo.) Now there are delicate anaemones and some self-seeded nasturtiums in the foreground, pansies peeking through ferns at the back, and calendulas and poppies like patches of dappled sunlight to the side .

And a small glut gloat:

Confused Azalea.

2009-08-22T18:13:00.003+01:00

This azalea was covered in crimson flowers in Spring, now here it is again putting out one or two flowers. Is it confused because we've had such a cold wet summer, it thinks it's been through an Argyll winter? Is this normal behaviour for azaleas? I'm worried it won't flower in the Spring if it has a half-hearted try now.

Lots of lovely sungold cherry tomatoes coming on now.

A dry day at last. I heard this grasshopper singing. When I looked, I saw he was seranading his missus. Saw five peacock butterflies fluttering around the garden but they wouldn't settle anywhere. A female sparrowhawk did a low pass by the bird table, giving the spugs conuptions, too quick for a pic unfortunately.

here be dragons

2009-08-17T18:56:00.006+01:00

This hoodie crow sums up my mood this morning but that changed when the sun broke through this afternoon. I finally got a pic of a peacock butterfly with open wings. I think this one has been a bit bashed by all the rain so his colours are looking rather washed out. The honey bees have been busy on the bidens. I wonder where this one gathered her pollen; it is a much darker orange than the pollen sacs on the bumbles I recorded earlier in the year. And look at this, a golden ringed dragonfly on my hebe.

mercurial

2009-08-17T11:20:00.009+01:00

I know I keep going on about it but the constantly shifting moods of the loch still surprise me. Here it is looking the deepest royal blue and, just three hours later, a peaceful rose tinged paradise. In another twenty-four hours the water looks almost brown with peaty run off from the hills and reflections of storm clouds above. But even the storms can be beautiful, when the light suddenly breaks through all the grey, highlighting the loch surface with splashes of simmering mercury.

Blooming today

2009-08-15T22:33:00.007+01:00

The first Japanese anemone to flower in this garden.

These little poppies are not popular with some as they spread so quickly. They bloom early, however, when there is little else about for the bumbles and have a permanent population of small hoverflies, so they are welcome to stay in this garden.

I have posted pics of the bidens golden star

and calendula before but they are so bright and cheerful on a dull wet day that they deserve a second showing. I like the bidens in particular, they are such hard working plants. They flowered before the surfinias and fuschias had even thought to put out buds and just keep on going. I wonder if next year, at the front, I should do mixed troughs of bidens with the blue pansies, which seem to have a similar work ethic?

2009-08-15T22:22:00.004+01:00

Well if I can’t admire flowers in the sun, I'll learn to appreciate the rain. I love all the shades of green in this Akebia quinata, and the way the leaves hold on to rain drops, reflecting what little light there is and covering the vine in silver spangles.

Sungolds

2009-08-15T22:18:00.003+01:00

Finally the tomatoes are ripening. They came on at a gallop in June but stopped dead in July as the sun vanished and the rain poured down. The sungolds are my favourite, little cherry tomatoes that ripen to a golden orange colour and taste like sweet bursts of sunshine. Just as well I planted them; they’re the only hint of sun I’m going to get for the rest of the summer.

For the cauldron?

2009-08-13T20:01:00.007+01:00

I found this newt in Smudge's waterbowl back in the spring.

This toad turned up in a weed bucket at the weekend. There's a mummified frog in the coal bunker and, yes, "thrice the brinded cat hath mewed", in fact the brinded cat never stops mewing, though it is just Smudge complaining about the Coop's economy cat nosh. I think fate is dropping some heavy handed hints about my vocation in life. Just call me Granny Weatherwax.

Smudge has graduated from Wall Watch to Pot Watch. I guess the mouse has decamped from the hydrangeas but somehow I don't think the azaleas are going to offer any more security.

Making me smile today

2009-08-10T13:21:00.004+01:00

A new butterfly for me. A small copper male. According to the butterfly web sites, these are very territorial and frequently chase off other insects. I must have the wimp of the family because the minute a bee came along he disappeared in the opposite direction.

We had some very heavy rain showers this morning, then the sun came out and all the birds started to sunbathe. That looks like a dead robin on the left but I assure you he was just lying on his side drying his tum. The dunnock also spent a long time preening. It's the closest I've managed to get to one of these shy little birds. There are three regulars in the garden but they are very wary and disappear the minute I point the camera at them. The thrush has also been much shyer than the blackbirds, robins, finches and sikins but the sun today was too much to resist and he lay by the wiegela stretching his wings in pleasure. That's the robin again in the foreground.

Speaking of hydrangeas

2009-08-08T16:48:00.011+01:00

The range of colours on this mophead hydrangea is intriguing.

From the creamy developing flowers

through electric blues

to subtle mauves

and hot pinks, all on one bush.

Mouse relocation

2009-08-08T14:29:00.007+01:00

Mouse in pint jug, on his way back to the hydrangeas. I saw him scampering behind the ash bucket late last night and managed to persuade him that the back of the stove was not a mouse friendly environment. I also gave him a strict talking to about allowing himself to be caught by a wobbly-legged, toothless, sixteen year old cat who makes bagpuss look svelte and athletic.

I hope the mouse will develop some sense of self respect and avoid her in the future.

Smudge is still operating a strict demarcation of labour and stayed snoozing in the conservatory during the whole mouse trapping episode.

That effing cat

2009-08-07T12:32:00.008+01:00

I was having a peaceful coffee this morning when I noticed that Smudge, instead of acting as the usual tonne weight furry anchor on my knee, was showing unusual interest in the fireplace. Suspicious that Wall Watch may have been a successful overnight operation, I got down on my knees and inspected the stove just in time to see a mouse tail and hind quarters whisking up a gap in the side panel. He is now sitting in the inner workings of the stove and I have no way of dislodging him. Smudge, after spending an hour eyeing the panel and dubiously poking it with her paw, has walked away from the whole business with a flick of her tail. Apparently equal division of labour means she catches wildlife and brings it inside but there her responsibility ends. If I'm ungrateful enough to be in bed snooozing when she drops her trophy on the floor, and it sets up home in the back of a multi fuel stove, then it is entirely my own fault. I think I'm going to have to get a humane mouse trap and set it overnight or I won't be able to light the stove again.

Wall Watch in Spring

In the garden today

2009-08-06T21:24:00.006+01:00

Smudge was back on wall watch. There is a large, fat mouse that lives under the feeders. He is so well fed and lazy that even toothless, old podge has managed to catch him.... THREE TIMES. The first couple of times she brought him to me in the garden, while nattering loudly and gummily about what an ace hunter she was and how she could take on anything, a tiger, a lion or a panther, she was the best predator in the business. The mouse and I shared a moment of mutual long-suffering when she dumped him at my feet, before he politely made his excuses and waddled back to the bushes. I made no attempt to detain him. The third time, old podge decided she wasn’t wasting her beautiful, though it has to be said extremely slobbery trophy, on such an ungrateful recipient, so she brought him into the house at midnight and dumped him under the fridge freezer, just as I was going to bed. Neither the mouse nor I was happy with this new arrangement and Podge looked on intrigued while the mouse, freezer and I, performed a time-lapse waltz around the kitchen. I moved the freezer an inch and tried to persuade him to come out, while he scurried further under, saying, “No, no thank you, it’s really lovely under here”. An hour later, Podge had retired to bed with exhortations that I stop swearing and try to keep the noise down, as skilled predators need their sleep, when a combination of broom and pointy stick convinced the mouse that a brief trip in a pint jug to the hydrangeas was preferable to a night spent listening to Podge snoring in the conservatory.
In other news:
Yay, finally a fuschia flower, a bit bruised from the rain but I’m in no position to be fussy.

The rowan berries are proving popular

And the see-sawing spugs have moved on to the next pampas,

maybe they'll stop it self-seeding all over the place.

Summertime

2009-08-03T17:02:00.007+01:00

A whole week since I last blogged. Not good enough Yan. Shall I bother with excuses? Naaah.

So August is here, the peak of the Summer, long sunny days with the garden in full bloom, when gardeners sit back and enjoy the results of their hard labour? Pah. Not in Argyll. This poor camapanula sums up the feeling of my poor drowned patch. Everything is looking grey and bruised from the torrential rain. The mallows, after leaning drunkenly against pieris for several weeks have succumbed entirely and are now flat on the ground. The pansies are flattened, the violas are flattened, the fuschias and pelargoniums are still not flowering and the tomatoes have come to a full stop and are thinking seriously about climbing back in their seed packets. There are some bright spots though; my courgettes have decided they are actually marrows and these stoical calendulas, keep their petals wide open, flaming merrily despite the watery missiles from the sky.

Silver shadows

2009-07-27T12:49:00.003+01:00

The loch was in a decidedly mystical mood today, all rippling pools of mercury meeting stormy, grey rain showers. I would not have been surprised to see an arm or two rising up, waving magically enhanced swords.

Gormless Update

2009-07-27T12:42:00.002+01:00

My poor scalded fuschia is recovering from its encounter with the detergent. Mum informs me that it was my Great Gran who used to treat plants that “misbehaved” with dishwater and it was definitely soap flakes, not detergent in those days. Apparently Lux is the stuff you want, mixed into a very weak stock solution, so that it looks a bit like wall paper paste. This is then diluted 1 in 10 with water to make a hand spray. I’ve tried it on roses, surfinia and fuschia, with assorted pests, and it works a treat. Doesn’t seem to kill the plants but washes the greenfly off and so far they haven’t re-established.
While we’re on the subjects of surfinia and fuschia tubs and baskets, for the second year, mine are very slow to bloom. They’re looking green and lush but putting out flowers does not seem to be on the agenda. This happened last year with petunias and pelargoniums. I thought I had just over fed them, encouraging them to put out foliage rather than flowers. So I was very careful this year, they had some slow release food at exactly the manufacturers recommended amounts when planted out and nothing since. I bought them as well established plugs, potted them on and they grew vigorously, so they haven’t had a set back. Now it’s nearly August and still nothing from the fuschias or pelargoniums and while the surfinias are definitely blooming, you could hardly describe them as trailing. I used to plant tubs and baskets in Tilly that would have been a riot of flowers by now. The climate is milder and wetter here, but we have had a fair amount of sun in May and early June. Does the slight difference in sun levels really have so much effect?

2009-07-26T12:01:00.005+01:00

One sunny day and now it's raining again. In fact I think I will make that the default setting of this blog. If I don't specifically mention the weather assume it's wet (and windy). I was originally going to call the blog, "Wild, Wet and Windy" but thought that might get mistaken for a special interest site. It's amazing how many short term hits my post with "blue tits" in the title brought in. Speaking of birds, the weather has brought the chaffinches back in droves. I tried to count them but they move constantly, so all I know is there were well over twenty just around the feeders. My little siskin was in there, giving them welly, but eventually sheer numbers drove her off. They are going through the feed at a rate of knots. I will have to ration them, I can't afford this.

I shouldn't complain about having just one sunny day as it did bring the butterflies out. Numerous whites, all green veined as far as I could see but they never settled long enough to take a pic. Meadow browns, again just passing through and small torotiseshells. This tortie was feeding on the hebe which has almost finished flowering but had just enough blooms to make this fellow pause.

Ever felt you're being watched?

2009-07-25T10:40:00.015+01:00

I was pottering round the garden this morning, admiring this beautiful, double-flowered campanula when something made me look up at the rowan tree.
I think it was a form of silent nagging. The tree was full of chaffinches, waiting for me to move so they could descend on the table.
There was even a greenfinch
and a robin in on the act.

It all gets a bit hitchcockian round here sometimes.

This evening in the garden

2009-07-22T19:47:00.010+01:00

I'm not sure who was looking the most moody and enigmatic, the loch

or the cat.

Only one white butterfly passed briefly by but didn't stop. At least this hover fly appreciates the potentilla flowers.

Some prickly things developing. I don't know what this is but I like the punk style of the partially open globe.

This sea holly seems very happy, it struggled in a pot in Tilly. I planted it out last Summer and it has flourished. I guess the clue is in the name, the sea holly likes a martime environment.

The weathered look

2009-07-21T20:56:00.006+01:00

Well, the wind blew through yesterday with torrential rain showers and flattened my beautiful mallows. Yes, I suppose it was a gormless place to plant them but I thought, they're summer flowering annuals, they won't be around for the worst of the weather, surely a six foot high fence and an enormous pampas grass will provide a sufficient windbreak. Lesson learned, pick the right plant for the position.

Bright spots on a wet day

2009-07-20T13:55:00.009+01:00

The weather has been appalling all weekend. Torrential showers and now it is windy as well. Despite this, the sun occasionally breaks through. I nipped out to get some fresh air during one short dry spell and saw this tired bumble bee on the Bidens golden star.

Some tomatoes are almost ripe, amazing given the lack of sunshine in the last week.
A self seeded lobelia. I planted some plugs last year but was disappointed by the lack of growth and flowers. They must have done enough however to leave seeds for this year. Maybe the butterflies will find it.

Siskins

2009-07-19T19:23:00.004+01:00

I've heard about robins and blackbirds becoming very tolerant of human presence, entering houses and even feeding from hands. My siskins seem to be developing a similar relaxed attitude. This little one didn't even wait for me to move after I'd put out the kibbled peanuts. She flew straight down to the tray and started tucking in. I could have reached out and touched her. There was nothing wrong with her healthwise, as a few minutes later she took exception to another siskin feeding on the table and started a fight.

A tale of two mallows

2009-07-18T23:24:00.013+01:00

I don't know what I did to this tree mallow. Pruned it too hard? Planted it in the wrong place? Something very gormless no doubt. That position is the most exposed in the garden and does get blasted by the wind when it howls up the loch. I guess I'm just going to have to find something tough to grow there. I wonder if one of the burgandy elders would survive. It's a pity. I planted the mallow last year and it grew vigorously through the summer producing masses of pretty white flowers with rosy centres.

In contrast this annual mallow, Lavatera Mont Blanc, is romping away, coming through just as the foxgloves and verbascum are dying back. It's buds, when tightly furled, are blush pink but they open into masses of intense white flowers that gleam like spotlights in every corner they are planted.

The only problem is the butterflies and bees are paying no attention. I thought because lavatera are always present in wildlife seed mixes they would be a good souce of nectar but perhaps the white variants don't look or taste as good as the pink ones. I should have gone for the cosmos. I'm just a sucker for tall spires covered in bell like flowers. I've a hankering for some hollyhocks but have a strong suspicion that they would only get covered in rust in this climate. I shouldn't complain though because what I miss with the cottage garden plants is more than made up for by the spring show of rhodies, azaleas and camelias which love the wet, acid conditions.

A purpose for the pampas

2009-07-18T14:22:00.002+01:00

It looks as if I am going to have to forgive the pampas grass for being a big, ugly, bully of a garden plant. The spugs love it. I was watching them today instead of doing the washing up. They are feasting on the seeds and hopping backwards and forwards chirping with excitement. A line of them sit on a frond, then another arrives and the whole thing sinks down, a bird flies off and it springs up again, so the fronds are constantly seesawing up and down like a giant sparrow amusement park. Daft, isn’t it to get excited by a sparrow? It’s just that last year I had one solitary male visit occasionally. He came back in the spring with his missus. I don’t know where they nested but they have brought a sizeable brood to feed at the table and another adult male has joined them. I counted eleven on the grass today. When sparrows are in “catastrophic” decline elsewhere in the country it’s lovely to see them thriving here. This bbc article http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/7739645.stm suggests that sparrows are most successful in gardens tended by “useless, lazy gardeners”. That’s definitely the case here and long may my gormlessness continue if see-sawing sparrows are the result.

moody blues

2009-07-18T11:53:00.007+01:00

The loch is constantly changing from shimmering cobalt blues, through patchworks of azure and aqua, to pools of silver and grey.

grrrrrrrrrrrrrr

2009-07-17T17:34:00.005+01:00

In case there is any confusion, I should explain this is an evil slug eating my beautiful courgette. The courgettes are the first veg I've grown apart from tomatoes and salad leaves. I know they're really easy and generous to even the most feckless of gardeners but I am very proud of them. They are beautiful and green and luscious and have cost practically nothing. The plants were seedling freebies from a friend, so all they have cost was the little bit of compost to plant them in. I'm counting on them to provide free food through the summer (and winter, if I freeze what I can't eat). I object strongly to slugs, who have plenty of food elsewhere (including my pansies and violas), joining the banquet uninvited. So grrr grrrr grrrrrrrrrr. The only good slug is a dead slug.

Butterflies in the garden today

2009-07-17T13:13:00.015+01:00

Another meadow brown, there were several flying in the paddock behind the garden. This one had frayed wings. I don't know if it was damaged by the heavy rain we've had this week or if it's nearing the end of its life.

I think this is a green veined white but it's markings are much less distinct than the ones that were flying in May (see pics below, click to enlarge).

It's not a large or small white, as they both have a single dark spot on the under wing, so a process of elimination suggests green veined.

2009-07-16T11:52:00.004+01:00

The blue tits are my pride and joy this year. For the first time a pair of birds has nested in a box I put up. I had two nest boxes in the Tilly garden that were never used. I put this one up last Spring but too late to attract nesters. It’s on the wall of the summerhouse facing the leylandii hedge. I thought it would be sheltered there, protected from predators and have lots of nearby vegetation for the chicks to fledge on to. It seems the blue tits agreed. I saw them inspecting it early in the year but once the leaves are on the weigela, you can’t see the box from the house. I didn’t know they were definitely using it until May when it was warm enough to spend some time on the summerhouse decking and there I could see the blue tits flying in and out carrying caterpillars.

The chicks fledged in June, and were brought by their parents straight to the feeders. I’m not sure that’s a good thing, as they may not learn to hunt for themselves but all the wildlife sites recommend you continue to feed through the Summer.

The birds

2009-07-15T20:48:00.001+01:00

For me, birds and gardening go together. I wouldn’t want one without the other. I’m lucky with this garden; there was already a well established population of residents and visitors when I arrived. The chaffinches dominate in the winter. Flocks of twenty or thirty individuals come dipping and chattering in, to sit in the rowan tree and fight over the feeders and bird table. The starlings are always around. They resemble a crowd of rowdy bikers, zooming into the garden with their black feathers gleaming like studded leather jackets. They screech to a halt at the table, toss whatever is on offer around and then rev up and leave at high speed for the next garden. Despite this bad boy image they are devoted parents and have successfully reared two large broods this year. The pic shows an adult with part of their first brood at the table in May.

Forget the hobnobs...

2009-07-14T20:59:00.004+01:00

...the gooseberries are ripe mmmmmmmmmm crumble.

Learn to love a slug?

2009-07-14T15:55:00.007+01:00

"Learn to love a slug." That's what one of the wildlife sites advises. Give it plenty of organic debris, like fallen leaves and flowers, and it will clean up your garden for you and be too busy to chomp the plants you value. Hah! My garden is not tidy. It is a morass of vegetation, some dead, some dying, some springing to life. At the moment there are foxglove flowers littering the ground everywhere. Do the slugs help to tidy them up? Do they weecht. No, they prefer to munch on my lovely violas. I have had one success though. I have been growing salad leaves in small troughs by the kitchen door. In an effort to deter the slugs I've been emptying the used coffee grounds into the troughs and around their rims and bases. The salad seems to grow quite happily through the mulch of grounds and the slugs have left them alone. Unfortunately so have I and now they have bolted everywhere. I should have let the slugs have 'em. Salad pah, you can't even deep fat fry it. If only chocolate hobnobs grew in tubs of compost.

(BTW I have only just discovered if you click on the thumbnail pics they'll open in to a larger image.)

Pretty things

2009-07-12T13:35:00.003+01:00

Posting these pics I took yesterday because it's raining today, so I sat down to do some filing and organising of my finances and of course immediately started multi-shirking on the computer. I'm loving the lush greeness in the first tier at the moment. Another surprise rose has popped up. This time a scarlet show-off that clashes magnificently with the crimson rose from earlier in the week. The pansies have recovered from the slugs' attentions. They have been flowering steadily since March (when not acting as a slug salad bar). And finally a delicate clematis just starting to open at the steps to the second tier.

The view

2009-07-12T09:30:00.002+01:00

I’ve mentioned the loch several times but it’s been like a silent character in a radio play, only there because I have spoken about it. So here it is, the view from the top of the garden and from the summerhouse.

In the garden this weekend

2009-07-12T08:25:00.005+01:00

Let’s get back to the important things like birds, bees and butterflies. I think the first pic is a meadow brown on the hebe. It moved very quickly and I couldn’t get a look at the uppersides of its wings. There was also a red admiral around and a small tortoiseshell (2nd pic) but again neither stopped to feed for long. There doesn’t seem to be enough to make them want to stop in the garden at the moment. I think next year I will plant some cosmos and lobelia which, in my Tilly garden, used to attract hoards of tortoiseshells, whites and red admirals.

The third tier

2009-07-10T10:54:00.004+01:00

The last post was far too long and boring so I’m going to gallop through the rest of the garden. Up the steps to the third tier, summerhouse on the right, which is slowly being stripped to the wood by effing wasps looking for nest building material; a decking area, perfect for sitting in the sun watching the loch; red gravel area, don’t know what the original purpose was but I was thinking of putting in raised veg beds, only problem is the salt wind which, when in the mood, blasts across the top of the garden. On the left, lawn and a higgedly-piggedly line of conifers whose burnt brown patches show they are not at all happy with the salt wind. Up another small flight of steps, more lawn on the left, small stream in upper left corner surrounded by nettles and brambles, more conifers. To the right a mossy flat, a large stand of hebes in the corner and a hugely overgrown leylandii hedge marks the right boundary.

The second tier

2009-07-09T13:07:00.003+01:00

This is, at present, the most functional and least interesting level of the garden. On the left is the drying green, on the right a sloping grass bank with several overgrown shrubs and behind them a line of very old fruit bushes. The first two pics show how it looked when I moved in and the second two how it looks today. Of course I arrived in the depths of a wet Argyll Winter and it is now the height of Summer, so not a fair comparison.

It is perhaps a bit harsh to call this level uninteresting. In the Spring the lower part of the bank is covered in bluebells which gives me an excellent reason for not cutting the grass. The shrubs, though they do all need the attention of an axe wielding maniac, are ones I would have chosen for my garden (apart from another blasted pampas grass). A variegated weigela dominates to the right. In late Spring/Summer it is bowed down with blossoms which vary from soft creamy pink to rich, dusky mauve. I have often sat at the summerhouse on the next tier, which brings my eye level to the top of weigela, and looked straight into the eyes of a caterpillar-carrying bluetit, returning to feed chicks in my nesting box. There is also a gold leaved spirea which the bumble bees adore and a well established azalea that is covered in vivid scarlet flowers in early Spring.

To the left, I have worked hard on the grass of the drying green. After much weeding, feeding and moss raking it is starting reward me with a smooth green carpet rather than the hummocky, midge-infested, trip hazard of last year. I'm trying to hand cut twice a week rather than use the electric mower. This means I get some aerobic exercise (booo hiss), save money on power (hurrah) and because the lawn is regularly cut I don't need to gather up the small amount of clippings but can let them mulch back in. It seems daft to me to fertilise a lawn and then, when the lush, green grass springs up, remove all that goodness just to tip it on the compost heap. By the boundary fence there is a beautiful camellia which throws such a profusion of white blossom in Spring you can't see the leaves underneath. Two ancient honeysuckles were trained in a woody, diseased tangle against the retaining wall. I have cut these back to the ground and am waiting to see if they survive. I planted a second camellia by the steps and think I may try to establish a line of these to hide the clotheswhirly from the house.