We welcomed the month of May with a bank holiday and a promise of warmer weather as tropical air wafted in with temperatures rising. Spring was really gathering momentum. It was a day for just chilling out and recharging the batteries. The day was also known colloquially as May Day which had its roots in the Pagan festival of Beltane, which marked the beginning of summer, and when cattle were driven out to the summer pastures. Rituals were performed in order to protect the cattle and crops, and to encourage growth.
Typically, on May Day villages and towns marked the beginning of springtime fertility. Even though summer don’t begin until June, May Day was a celebration of things coming to life. The tradition of dancing around a Maypole also had Pagan roots, specifically Germanic. There were also Roman connections with the festival of Flora, the goddess of flowers. I’d never seen the tradition of dancing around a Maypole yet and keeping my eyes and ears open for the next one.
Instead of dancing around a Maypole, we celebrated the day dancing with the natives at our favourite playground. It was also International Dawn Chorus Day but we were too late to take part. As it was a holiday, the Baldwin Hide was quite packed but we managed to squeeze in. A Great Crested Grebe swam quite close to the hide and was quite happy to pose for us. A Little Ringed Plover was feeding on the mud-banks on the main island. Hirundines were screaming as they swoop across the skies above.
A Common Sandpiper flew in to the tiny little gravel island next to the hide with its shrill ‘kee-dee-dee’ call. It flew low over the lake with whirring wing-beats, interspersed with gliding on down-curved wings. This small. short-legged wader with eye-stripe was feeding on insects amongst the stony sandbank, habitually bobbing up and down, known as ‘teetering’.
Then a shrill call of a Kingfisher flying low, straight over the water perching on the overhanging branches. It was sitting quietly watching intently the water below for suitable prey. It was very brightly coloured. The wings was a blue/green colour and its upperparts, rump and tail is a bright blue colour. It then gave a short, sharp whistle before flying upstream showing off its electric-blue ‘flash’ down its back.
A handsome Gadwall with his striking jet black stern was dabbling in the water. On one of the pontoons, a Greylag was nesting. It would be a challenge for the goslings to get out of the pontoon because it had chicken wires around it. Territorial Coots were fighting with each bird striking the other with their feet, the strongest part of their bodies. They were also attempting to drown each other and in typical fashion, the winner chased the loser off the water.
It began to get darker and darker and the heavens opened. The Hirundines were becoming more active as they zoomed about in the rain, the sound fell from the sky like notes from a stave; a chorus of twitters, tweets and rattles. Above the water, the Sand-martins and Swallows hawked after the stunned insects. It was amazing watching them wheeling and criss-crossing in flight. They were masters in the air, toing and froing in scores. From time to time,as they fly over the water, they dipped their bills to the surface for a drink.
They then perched on the fence on the pontoon for a gossip, before flying off to continue feeding over the lake. After the long flight from Africa, they needed to feed to bump up their energy levels and getting ready for the breeding season.Sand-martins were the junior cousin of the Swallow and House martins; smaller, browner and less elegant. But as the earliest of the three to return to our shores, they always had a special place in my heart, as they heralded the summer.
As soon as the rain stopped, we took the opportunity in the lull to walk to East Marsh Hide. Babe had photographed a female Muntjac with her kid walking on the grassy bank opposite the hide. We often see Muntjac feeding here as they make their way deep into the woods. But they weren’t seen today. We didn’t stay long because the clouds were getting darker and darker and we don’t want to get caught in the rain.
At the car-park, a flight of Swallows were resting quietly, gazing around and preening on the wires near the construction plant. These lot always had their nests in the cement plant shed. They constructed their nests from mud pellets that they collected in their beaks. Oh how I wish I could take a peek to see them swooping in and out of the shed.
At home, I noticed that the bats had returned and were feeding around our casa at dusk. Unfortunately, they were just impossible to photograph. As I was trying my very best to focus the camera, I heard a familiar snuffling and shuffling in the grass under the feeder. Woo…hoo Mr Prickly had returned and was busy chomping on the fallen seeds. Bat forgotten and I stood watching it silently. After getting its fill, it scurried along the fence and disappeared down a small gap in the fence. Its arrival coincided with Hedgehog Awareness Week.
May was also the bluebell season. I am so lucky that I have a bluebell wood right under my doorstep. Most days, I was here into the secret world of the wood during my lunch break among the enormous swathes of Bluebells under the trees that were speckled with tiny greenish-yellow leaves and new Beech leaves just emerging from their pink buds. The horse chestnut trees were a vivid green. Bluebells flower early before the canopy closes in late spring. The air was filled with birdsongs.
As I walked slowly through the enchanted woodland with the knobbly trees, I strained my ears to listen for the faint tinkle. I could almost hear the hum and horn of a secret, mysterious world, hidden from the human eyes, the ancient whirr of fairy wings among each bloom and plod of dainty elves feet as they mingled amidst the young grass, dancing in between the bluebells. My spirits were elevated by the thought of this.
Outside my office, I have the most spectacular view in the university. There were the most beautiful flowering cherry trees just outside my window and it was a joy sitting in the office and looking outside. The blossoms covered the landscape like a delicate cloak. I wasn’t alone based on the number of people stopping to admire, posing for photographs and selfie-ing.
It was a sight to behold especially when in full riotous bloom. These colourful display were at their absolute peak thanks to the combination of sunny days and cold nights. Clouds of these fluffy ornamental cherry blossoms were everywhere. Trees that were dull and uninteresting for eleven months of the year, suddenly became alive and what a sight. During my lunch break, you can always find me under these trees oohing and aahing, at these spectacular blooms.
The perfect time to view these blossoms was when the buds had fully opened into flowers and before the leaves of the cherry wood started to develop. This was a very short time only and the university grounds appeared most spectacularly engulfed with the sea of white or pink, lacy blossoms. Eventually the brown leaves began to dominate the vista and the blossoms fell from the branches, a rain of petals fluttering down to carpet the ground. Due to their very short flowering time, the blossoms were often seen as a metaphor for life itself, luminous and beautiful, yet fleeting and ephemeral.
~Algernon Charles Swinburne, Atlanta in Calydon~
We were excited to find out that that Monty and Sage, the Common Cranes from Slimbridge, had produced another egg. I was so tempted to take the afternoon off from work but Babe told me that the M5 was closed due to a serious road accident. Thoughts and prayers are with the victims and families. So I took a day off for a long weekend to see the proud parents-to-be. It was a lovely day with flowering rapeseed fields brightening the landscape with their sunshine-y yellow.
We went straight to Rushy Hide to check the piece-de-resistance. Sage and Monty was busy at the nest. They were clearing the site of used and soiled grass cuttings and re-arranged the furniture by adding fresh twigs and dried grass to make it more comfortable. It was a delicately done by these towering birds. We spotted the two precious brown-speckled eggs.
When Sage was satisfied with the decorating, she gently folded herself onto the nest to incubate the eggs. Then she stretched her long neck pulling pieces of twigs and placing around her. The pair shared incubation duties exchanging the responsibilities about every two hours during the day. We’d never seen this at all. The exchange gave both birds a chance to feed and exercise. At night, it was thought that the female do the bulk of the incubation, while the male stood guard nearby.
Monty was constantly being bombarded by the Black-headed gulls which were nesting at the opposite end of the island. These noisy, quarrelsome birds were swopping with a low, raking strike to the head with talons extended. Poor Monty, he was constantly ducking his head to avoid being attack. It does get a bit much and off he flew to the back end of Rushy pool to feed in peace.
Birds all the summer day
Flutter and quarrel
Here in the arbour-like
Tent of the laurel.
Here in the fork
The brown nest is seated;
For little blue eggs
The mother keeps heated.
While we stand watching her
Staring like gabies,
Safe in each egg are the
Bird's little babies.
Soon the frail eggs they shall
Chip, and upspringing
Make all the April woods
Merry with singing.
Younger than we are,
O children, and frailer,
Soon in the blue air they'll be,
Singer and sailor.
We, so much older,
Taller and stronger,
We shall look down on the
Birdies no longer.
They shall go flying
With musical speeches
High overhead in the
Tops of the beeches.
In spite of our wisdom
And sensible talking,
We on our feet must go
Plodding and walking.
Robert Louis Stevenson ‘Nest eggs’
In the middle of the lagoon, the Avocets were nesting on the bare, low mud-banks and also on the nearby short grass. The nest, built by both sexes, was a shallow scrape and was composed of short pieces of stems, roots and leaves of marsh vegetation. When one pair was incubating, the other pair was busy feeding on the shallow waters, sweeping their long, upcurved bills from side to side to locate hidden prey.
The Shelducks were as always, in a very bad mood. It was the height of the breeding season and they were being territorial and quarrelsome. The male with his bright red bill and bearing a prominent knob at the forehead were hissing harsh chatterings and growling quacks Their aggressive behaviour was not only towards each other but also to the Tufted ducks, Moorhens and even Avocets.
Then we headed towards the next hide. Along the path, Mayflies were dancing up and down in the sunshine while a Wren was giving a very powerful performance of a loud rattling and warbling song, This diminutive male had a remarkably loud voice considering his size. He was belting it out with a short narrow tail, held in a cocked position. It was very tempting to give an encore after such a performance.
Martin Smith Hide was very quiet with only the Shelducks on the tack piece. From time to time, the silence was woken by the loud cries of Jackdaw chicks that were nesting on the roof. We made a pit stop at Willow Hide where a group of people were looking intently at something. We joined in and it was a Great Spotted Woodpecker feeding on insects from a tree stump. Unfortunately, the tall reeds made photography a challenge.
We headed to the next hide. Outside Robbie Garnet Hide, a flock of Avocets were feeding at the edge of the pool which was very close to the hide. In clear water, they fed by sight by picking prey from the surface of water or mud. In poor visibility. they foraged by touch, sweeping their long, up-curved bill from side to side through to locate invertebrates, especially crustaceans and worms. In deeper waters, they swam readily and buoyantly, upending to reach food below the surface.
Then it was back to the grounds through the decoy boardwalk. A Mallard mum with one, two. three…. at least a dozen adorable fluffy ducklings. They looked like brown powder-puffs, their feet working away madly to keep with the current. Mum was gently herding them towards the safety of the reed-beds where they were learnt what was edible. They were pecking at everything. They couldn’t survive without their mother, and will take 50-60 days before they fledged and became independent.
There was a Tropical House in reserve which we’d only being in once. This was because the cameras tend to steam up due to the humidity. But since it was a warm sunny day, it wasn’t a problem. As our eyes adjusted to the dark and humid surroundings, we could feel and hear fluttering wings brushed past us. Then we spotted the Black-winged stilts that used to live at Wader Shore. We sat at the corner watching these slender black and white birds wading through the pool. It was amazing watching their red, stick-like legs folding and unfolding delicately as they dipped their long, needle-like beaks in the water.
It was quite tricky to get good shots as there was very little light and everything steamed up because of the humidity. There were other brightly coloured birds like the adorable Red-crested Turaco and other pretty ones whose names I can’t remember. Huge Goldfishes and Carps swam lazily in the shallow water.
I love the substance of eccentric style in your beauty-
the enchanting glance of old fashioned romance in your smile
that softly soothes me after the external joust dust of modernity settles on precious metals sought by Faustus
stealing gas and oil from African soil.
I love the dink in the middle of your back where my fingers sink
when i trace and track the road of your spine in perfect sync of mind with mine.
i last, near and far in your scented clouds of cinnabar, singing, with you, want you, words like intoxicating exotic birds- ready to leave poisonous suburbs to disturbed self and same arrogant and vain vices and vines embracing abyss in eclipsed times.
~Strider Marcus Jones ‘Exotic birds’~
Then it was time to make our annual trip to Gilfach Farm. We’d picked a bright sunny day to travel. We made a pit stop at Telford Services where it was full of caravans and motor-homes. If you happened to get stuck behind them in the single lane, it was going to be a long, slow trip. Thankfully, we managed to be ahead of them.
We stopped at Otter Hide where the River Marteg flows into the Upper River Wye. We stood on the bridge and scanned the jutting rocks with the tell-tale droppings and there it was, a Dipper sitting quietly and very well camouflaged. A short-tailed plump bird with white throat and breast in contrast with its dark body plumage. When it moved, it habitually bobbed up and down and frequently cocked its tail.
I was hoping to see it walking into and under water in search of food like insect larvae and freshwater shrimps but not today. It spent some time preening itself and then went asleep. Dippers were unique in the songbirds, for their ability to wade, swim and dive in running water. They were exclusively confined to the water’s edge and nest under bridges and in walls. We knew that there was a nest under the bridge.
Babe went into the hide to get a closer look of the Dipper while I wandered outside. The Bluebell woods were just beginning to flower. I was distracted by a very melodious song, a graceful cascade of soft, liquid warbling notes. I think it was a Willow Warbler, singing away in the top of a very windy evergreen. One of Britain’s most numerous summer visitor, with its olive-green upperparts and pale yellow underparts.
Then it was the very steep and winding drive up the hill to the visitor centre. We weren’t surprised to find the small parking space full that we’d to park outside the visitor centre. The place was quite deserted except for a couple standing near the wall with a big tub of mealworms. The man scattered some mealworms trying to entice the birds to come down and feed.
The Wildlife Trust discouraged feeding the birds because there were incidents when the parents fed their chicks with these dried worms and got choked. A few birds did came down and among them was this adorable Nuthatch. I watched it slowly descend head-first and hung upside down beneath the twigs and branches, creeping closer and closer to the meal worms. It was so close that I could see the stunning blue-grey above and whitish below, with chestnut on its side and under its tail.
We looked around the farmyard which was deserted. The visitor centre was closed and the longhouse looked empty. I assumed the tenants had moved out because the grounds was un-kept and overgrown. It was a shame because there used to be a few bird-feeders hanging around the compound and buzzing with birds. Today there was silence except for a lone swallow resting on the electric wires.
We wandered around the compound checking the place out. A pair of buzzards was circling overhead and a Red Kite was riding the thermal. The calls from the Cuckoo echoed around us and came closer and closer. I scanned the trees but it was somewhere hidden among the branches. A Jay flew in and checked out the mealworms on the walls but it was being chased off by…hang-on, it was a Redstart. Woo…hoo
Redstarts were immediately identifiable by their bright orange-red tails, which often quivered. They got their name from this constantly flickering tail which the male fanned out during courtship displays. This breeding male looked smart, with slate grey upper part, black face and wing, and an orange rump and chest. The females and young were duller.
It was amazing to see them as there were less than 100 breeding pairs in the UK, it was on the Red list of Conservation status due to unfavourable conditions in Africa and Europe where it was declining due to the destruction of traditionally managed orchards. Redstarts bobbed in a very robin-like manner, and they spent little time at ground level. They foraged from bushes and low branches, darting out to pick insects out of the air or off the ground.
Sadly, we didn’t see any Pied flycatcher. According to a few photographers that we’d spoken to, they were out and about. We couldn’t stay longer because Babe wanted to be in Bwlch Nant-yr-Arian for the kite-feeding session. Unfortunately, due to the large amount of traffic, we missed it. But it wasn’t a problem for us because we’d seen it sooo many times. In fact, as soon as we parked the car, hundreds were flying very low above us waiting to snatch food from unsuspecting birds.
We watched this handsome Kite chasing after a leucistic crow which had a piece of meat in its beak. It was flying fast with fast, twisting chases as it tried to grab the meat. The crow dropped it and was snatched by another Kite mid-air and the chase continued. The commotion that accompanied these airborne squabbles were ear-piercing, like a high-pitched prolonged excited screech. It was amazing to watch their aerial prowess and combat.
A few flew quite close to where we were standing that we could see the pale grey head and striking almost translucent white underwings patches and black tips on the primaries contrasting with warm orange or russet coloured feathers on the body and upper tail which appeared to glow like red embers giving them an ethereal appearance. With twisting deeply forked swallow-like tail and long slightly angled wings it turned this way and that soaring and spiralling skyward catching the unseen breath of wind or an uplifting warm air thermal. We watched its golden orbed eyes surveying below for food.
Gracefully floating on invisible thermals overhead,
Flies the great bird of prey with sharp eyes of red.
With large feathered wings unfolded in gliding flight,
It hovers high above far from its intended prey's sight.
Nesting songbirds with chicks in a tree nearby,
Fly up to harass the predator patrolling the sky.
They block and they peck, no need for much force,
They surround the hawk, make it change its course.
Circling in patterns the predator flies around,
Until with telescopic eyes its prey is found.
The hunter folds its wings and heads for the ground,
The unsuspecting prey does not hear a sound.
With talons extended and wings opened wide,
It seizes its prey and squeezes until it has died.
On swift strong wings it flies off to the west,
To feed its chicks that wait in their nest.
~Glenn Bergen~
Then we walked down to the visitor centre to use the facilities and freshened up. I also bought the famous Welsh Mary’s Farmhouse dairy ice cream trying the latest flavour called Sinful which was mocha chocolate with fudge and cherries. We enjoyed our ice-cream on the veranda surrounded by the beautiful Welsh landscape while keeping an eye on the bird-feeder.
It was buzzing with dozens of Sparrows, Siskins. Chaffinches, Great tits, Blue tits and Redpolls. Below, on the ground, Robins and Blackbirds were picking on the fallen seeds. The Siskins were very small, greenish yellow finch, with dark wings and yellow wing bar. They were quite messy and had very sharp beaks which were adapted for feeding in conifers, extracting tiny food items from tight spaces. They were quite aggressive and often kept away the much larger Chaffinches from the feeder.
We were delighted to see the very adorable lively little Redpolls, another small finch with grey-brown streaked plumage, red forehead and black chin. This handsome breeding male had pink on breast and rump. It was lovely listening to its sharp. buzzy call notes with energy trills and chatter.
This month, I made a very popular Malaysian snack called satay, which was grilled chicken skewers marinated with spices and served with peanut sauce. I didn’t make the peanut sauce because I’d a bottle of shop bought sauce in the house. We had the satay with egg fried rice for dinner which was just delicious.
Satay Chicken:
600g Chicken thighs – deboned
1 clove Garlic, crushed
1 chilli, chopped
3tbsp Soy sauce
2tbsp Coconut oil (or sesame oil )
1tsp Honey
Wooden skewers, soaked in water for an hour
Start by marinating the chicken. A day ahead is best, or give it at least 3-4hrs. Blend together garlic, chilli, soy sauce, coconut oil, honey and pour into a flat bottomed dish.
Chop chicken into chunks and add to the pot.
When chicken has been sliced ‘n’ diced into bite-size bits, toss it around in the sauce. Cover with cling-film, and pop into the fridge until you’re ready for it.
When chicken is ready to roll, thread it onto your skewers.
Place onto a rack over a baking tray.
Turn the grill on to a medium-high setting.
Grill the chicken for about 10mins, until nice and browned. Take it out. Turn them over, and cook for another 10
Pile onto a serving plate.
Serve with buckets of sauce. Sprinkle with a few chopped chives, or coriander if you’re feeling fancy!
I really loved this time of year even when it was pouring with rain and the sky positively gloomy. There were days when I was in the garden when it was just glorious with the sun shining, warm but not too hot with a slight breeze. It was wonderful pottering about. Seeds had been sown, plants and shrubs re-potted and the garden was bursting into life and the borders were filling out. I even dug half of the front lawn to turn it into a wildlife meadow.
The only flowering shrub in the garden was the lilac with its abundant blossoming clusters and sweet, haunting fragrance. These sumptuous blooms were one of the signs that Spring was finally giving way to Summer and, once those fragrant blooms open, the garden entered a softer phase.
“Now in a cottage built of lilac and laughter…
I know the meaning of the words…’ever after’
~Polka Dots and Moon Beams~
While I pottered about, I was being supervised by our resident Robin. He kept on coming closer to make sure that I’d followed his instructions. Often, he would be at the top of the elderflower tree belting out a melodious warble in a very clear descending series of rippling notes. But I was distracted by this female Blackbird with a beakful of nesting materials. The nest must be nearby because she kept on looking at me to make sure that I wasn’t watching her. I continued with what I was doing and when I looked up again, she was gone.
There were a few butterflies coming into the garden but they were quite flirty. There wasn’t much nectar at the moment but I was delighted when this Common White settled on the lilac. Also known as ‘Cabbage White’ it was the bane of allotment holders. I don’t mind it in my garden although last year, the species decimated my broccoli. 
A Common Blue too came fluttering in. It was quite difficult to take a photo because it always settled on the leaves at the top of the shrubs. I kept on following it and it finally landed on a blackberry leaf. As expected, it was resting facing down wings closed but one side on to the sun to absorb as much heat as possible. I rattled a few shots before off it flew again.
The pair of resident Goldfinches were always at the bird-feeder which was hanging on the rose arch. They were very messy eaters and tons of nyjer seeds were scattered on the ground. It was a challenge not to step on them and bring them indoors. I’d to vacuum the carpet quite often but they were worth it. In fact, they were feeding now as I could hear their high-pitched rapid twitters through the open patio doors.
“Who can stay indoors when the Goldfinches are busy among the bloom on the apple tree
Listen how happy the Goldfinches are in the orchard”
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