July to August

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.

May to Midsummer

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: