Rosy garlic, Allium roseum, is one of the ‘perfect for pollinators’ collection of bulbs that we planted in the autumn. It is edible but is said to be so strong that it deters deer and squirrels, so perhaps I should plant some around the bird feeders!
Category: Habitats
Bitter-cress
3.50 p.m., 45ºF, 7ºc, light drizzle, overcast: We’re getting so ahead with our garden this spring that, if I want to draw a weed, I need to go down behind the greenhouse and even then there’s not much to see so far. The bitter-cress is quick off the mark, growing and setting its seeds ahead of most of the other garden weeds. This looks like hairy bitter-cress, but to be sure I’d have to count the number of stamens (it has six).
There are five opposite pairs of leaflets on each pinnate leaf. It’s growing in disturbed, rather clayey ground alongside chicory, cleavers and chickweed. It’s only the bitter-cress that has burst into flower.
As it was drizzling, I used pencil and crayons for my quick sketch of the bitter-cress.
Tadpoles
3.30 p.m., overcast: A few days ago the tadpoles were all in one frothy mass in the corner of the pond. They’re now exploring amongst the pebbles and pondweed but still concentrated in the corner.
Two smooth newts come up for air in the few minutes that I’m writing.
The Jewel of the Moor
Langsett: There’s an alarmed mewing call of a buzzard as we walk up onto the moor. Over the conifers a pair are circling, seeing off a third which circles higher then disappears in the direction of Holme Moss. The resident pair do a lap of honour, spiralling high up over the plantation of Crookland Wood, while below a heron flies sedately over the treetops towards the reservoir.
A green tiger beetle trundles along the edge of the path over the moor, iridescent in the morning sunlight.
North America, Hingcliff Common, 11.30 a.m., breeze from the west, high cirrus over the moor, enormous bank of cumulus (a weather front) looms along the horizon to the northwest.
As I draw the crottle lichen a queen wasp flies to the corner of the gritstone block and sits in the sun. She then flies to my knee and cosies down in a fold of material. I guide her on to my sketchbook then persuade her to sit on the ruined wall beside me to sketch her.
Twenty or thirty gnats dance over a small mossy hollow between the gritstone blocks.
Red grouse and curlew call occasionally; willow warblers have now arrived and are singing along the edge of the cleared slopes at Mauk Royd on the south side of the reservoir.
A dabchick dives alongside a pair of Canada geese at the edge of the inlet where Thickwoods Brook enters the reservoir.
Cowslip
4.55 p.m., 45ºF, 7ºC: The rain has helped the cowslips that I planted in the meadow area to settle in. No umbrellas, pop-up tents or folding chairs today; I simply crouch down amongst the dripping grasses and get on with my drawing. The rain spots will be part of the drawing.
Adding pot-grown wild flowers to the meadow is working well. Whenever I have twenty minutes to spare, I can head down the garden and find something fresh to draw.
Dandelion
South Ossett, 10.20 a.m.: The morning sun is just getting into this sheltered corner and the flowers of the dandelion are steadily opening; ants are scurry across the paving.
The dandelion head on the lower right has turned to seed but dozens of them are lying on the wet paving slab, parachutes (pappus) unopened. It looks as if some bird has been pecking at it, perhaps one of the sparrows that I can hear calling from the rooftops.
We’re back at Blacker Hall Farm shop for lunch with a view from the restaurant in the barn of the Barnsley to Wakefield Kirkgate railway.
Ribwort Plantain
3.05 p.m.: A dunnock bursts into hurried song from the top of the freshly green hedge, then flies off on its rounds.
House sparrows are engaged in some dispute down in the hedge, repeatedly cheep, cheep, cheeping at each other.
The breeze whips around as a large grey cloud arrives from the west. Hanging from my bag in the sun, my key-fob thermometer shows a pleasant 70ºF, 22ºC; as the sun goes behind the cloud the temperature drops 20 degrees Fahrenheit to 50ºF, 10ºC.
A large bumble bee prospects under a pile of mossy/grassy debris by the compost bin. I’ve been considering providing an insect hotel.
Common knapweed, ribwort plantain and cow parsley are sprouting in our meadow area; less welcome are the creeping buttercup and particularly the chicory which, attractive as its sky blue flowers are, could easily take over, spreading by its rootstock in our deep, rich soil.
Gold-tipped feathery moss spreads over the bare patches of soil. My aim is to weed out the chicory and docks and this year to plant pot-grown wild flowers to add some interest and wildlife value . . . and to give me more subjects to draw.
A Corner of the Pond
2.30 p.m., 47ºF, 9ºC: It’s been an April showers day with bright sun alternating with wild lashings of rain. There’s a cool breeze from the south-east but the low cumulus clouds are moving in almost the opposite direction: heading east with a westerly wind behind them.
One sixth of the pond in the sunniest northern corner is filled with algae-covered frogspawn which has sunk to a few inches below the surface. The black tadpoles which are each just over a centimetre long have now emerged from the spawn and gathered in three main groups, feeding on the abundant algae.
Smooth Newts
Nearby amongst the pondweed, two banner-tailed male smooth newts are closely following a round-tailed female.
Near the edge of the pond a newt briefly emerges from the depths to pop a mouthful of air.
Ramshorn Snail & Wolf Spider
A ramshorn pond snail makes slow progress over the butyl rubber pond liner.
A wolf spider runs across the water surface at the edge of the pond then basks in the sun on the black liner.
Grape Hyacinth
4.45 p.m., 51ºF, 11ºC: Grape hyacinth was included in the ‘good for pollinators’ collection of bulbs that we planted in the shady, north north-west facing bed below the window at the front of the house. It’s the first time that we’ve had this familiar looking spring bulb in flower in our garden.
Gatepost
Coxley Valley, 5.30 p.m., 45ºF, 8ºC: At the entrance to the woods this rough hewn stone gatepost stands by the beck next to an ivy-covered alder. Fresh leaves of wild garlic grow behind it, escaping being trampled on a wide and muddy stretch of the path.
There’s a bit of an evening chorus amongst the birds – the wistful robin, the monotonous wood pigeon and the powerful projection of the wren – but when the blackbird starts singing we’re in a different league: melodious, mellow and relaxed.