ONCE UPON A LAMMAS MONTH

“The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris well when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone.”

~Natalie Babbitt~

The Celtic holiday of Lammas fell on the first of August and signalled the coming of autumn. Also known as Lughnasadh, the summer heatwave continued into August with the mercury remained well above the mid-20s. Now was the time to begin reaping what we had sown, and gathered up the first harvests of grain such as wheat, barley, rye and oats. It was a festival to mark the annual grain harvest, and was the first harvest festival of the year. Apart from the raspberries and some blueberries, we don’t have anything to harvest from our garden. We have lots of wild blackberries dotted around the garden which we left for our feathered friends but from time to time I do pick the biggest, juicest berry. There were also a few dozen figs on the tree but they hadn’t ripened yet.

Because of the heat, our feathered friends have been enjoying having a drink and a bath from the bird-bath and a water tray.  Watching them flying in and lining around the rim for a drink or having a good, splashy bath was a joyful experience. It beats watching television, Blackbirds and Starlings often took a dip while the Wood pigeons just sat in the water to cool down. Bathing kept their feathers in good condition and removed dust, loose feathers, parasites and other debris.

Oh ‘blithe spirit’, you wing through space
In the far sky you are just a speck to trace
As you steer your way through the clouds high
I see your floating shape against the sky

Lowering your pinions down to alight the ground
I hear your warbled words closer all around
How your eyes spot the rain water puddle
And come hopping to have a dip in the muddle

On this sultry summer afternoon
You are going to have a cool bath soon
You flap your wings in quick succession up and down
Spattering little muddy showers from your gown
You are so shy that you bathe with all clothing on

That it takes time for you to feel dry and clean
So once your bath is over, you perch on a tree
Ruffling your feathers until they are moisture free
After preening every little feather to dry

Refreshed and enlivened, off you fly,
Singing melodious tunes all your way
And drowning the valley with your sweet lay!

~Valsa George ‘Bird Bath~

I noticed that the Blackbirds after having a bath might spread their wings to dry on the ground. And sometimes they’d a dust bath. Also known as dusting or sand bathing, it was part of a bird’s preening and plumage maintenance that kept their feathers in top condition. The dust that was worked into their feathers absorbed excess oil to help keep the feathers from becoming greasy or matted. The oil-soaked dust was then shed easily, keeping the plumage clean and flexible for a more aerodynamic flight and efficient insulation. This bird was in a trance-like state with his beak opened, rump feathers puffed up, wings spread white and tail fanned. After 5 minutes, he rose to his feet, shook his feathers into place and seemed to gain a new lease of life.

The tiny bird-bath and water tray was like a watering hole for our feather friends. We kept ours cleaned and topped up as often as we could. But they were dirty little bu****s. The bird-feeder was also near the watering hole. Seeds and bits of fat-balls tend to fall in them and foul the water. We also have to make sure that it was at least a metre off the ground and out in the open so that they could see any of the neighbourhood’s cats coming. Birds were at their most vulnerable when drinking and feeding.

One of our favourite birds to visit the garden was the Goldfinches. I think we have a pair that was nesting in the Leylandi trees that surrounded our garden. When we’d the rose arch, we hung a bird-feeder with niger seeds under it. I loved seeing them queuing, waiting for their turn. Unfortunately, the arch was blown down by a storm in late 2016 and we hung the feeder at the end of the feeding platform. Thankfully, the Goldfinches were the only one feeding on the niger seeds.

Goldfinches had a ‘golden year’ in the 2018 RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch where sightings rose by 11% on 2017 figures and was at number 6 in the Top 20. In our garden, they gathered in ‘charms’, with bright red faces, biscuit-brown bodies and black wings with yellow wing bars. I could hear them even before I saw them. They’d a delightful liquid twittering songs and calls ‘tswitt-wit-witt’. Sounding something like a tinkling of bells had earned the Goldfinches the lovely collective noun, ‘charm’.

We were always looking forward to early summer when the adults started bringing their young to the bird-feeder. After hatching, the chicks were fed predominantly on regurgitated seeds, The juveniles were less colourful  with grey-brown spotted plumage and the lack of face markings helped them to avoid the attention of predators. The memorable, striking reds and yellows only surface after the first moult. Young Goldfinches were often known as grey pates.

We also enjoyed the visits from the gregarious and noisy Long-tailed tits. They were easily recognisable with their distinctive colouring of patterned soft-pink plumage, a tail which was bigger than their body, and their undulating flight in small excitable party. Their fluffy pink, black and white plumage held in a layer of air, their appearance had been likened to a ball of cotton wool and given rise to the names ‘Muffin’ and ‘Mumruffin’. They were also known as the ‘the flying lollipop’ during flight. We enjoyed listening to their soft, bubbly contact calls that filled the air. 

From our window, we saw fluffy balls of these tumbling, see-sawing birds bouncing towards the bird-feeder, their high-pitched, rolling si-si-si-si-si calls, punctuated with percussive, clipped notes, announcing their arrival.  They were always in flock for many reasons. The more eyes there were, the better the chance a predator will be spotted and also better chances of finding food. Their excitement at finding the fat-balls was revealed by their excited, high-pitched twitterings which usually alerted us to their presence.

One of the most anticipated visitor to our garden was the striking black-and-white Great Spotted woodpecker. We always enjoyed their presence and find it hilarious that it was always trying to hide on the side of the fat-ball feeder away from our sight. This was a juvenile male with a red crown on the top of the head. It was less glossy than the adults and had a brown tinge to its upperparts and dirty white underparts. The markings were less well-defined and the lower belly was pink rather than red.

The juvenile was a lot bigger than the Long-tailed tits but that didn’t stop them sharing the fat-balls. The juvenile will be sexually mature when aged one year, and will start its courtship behaviour in the following December. After feeding, it flew off to the elderflower tree at the bottom of the garden with a very distinctive bouncing flight. I heard the ‘chick, chick’ contact calls and I wonder if there was another one nearby. Then it flew off into the scrubland behind the cul-de-sac.

Babe was very thankful for the presence of these birds to our garden. It kept him company as he was convalescing from broken ribs. Earlier in the month, when we were at our favourite playground, one of the photographers fell to the floor in the hide and had an epileptic seizure. Unfortunately, he fell under the bench and was thrashing badly. Thankfully, Babe knew what to do and tried to help him onto his side. It was just unfortunate that Babe banged his ribs on the bench when he did that. Another photographer called for an ambulance while Babe tried to calm the sick man.

We waited for about an hour before the ambulance arrived. Thankfully, he was stable by this time and was aware of his surroundings. The paramedic had to walk in as the reserve was not accessible to vehicles. The sick guy was led to the ambulance and taken to hospital. In the mean time, Babe had just realised that he had broken his ribs. We left after that because Babe was feeling a bit rough. We didn’t go to the doctor as broken or bruised ribs needed no medical attention as they should heal by themselves within 3-6 weeks. But if he coughed up blood, he will go ASAP.

Babe later realised that there was no poster in the hides in case of emergencies. When we were there, the hide was quite full as there was about a dozen of us in it. If Babe was not there, the others would not know what to do. In this case, the first thing to do was to put him on his side and to make sure he did not swallow his tongue. Early interventions were important because it would take at least an hour before help arrived. Babe suggested to the Trust to put First-aid posters in all the hides and we were very pleased that they had taken the advice and the posters were now up. We had no news from the photographer and hoped we will see him back to Brandon.

Before the eventful episode, as soon as we arrived in the car-park, we were greeted by these swallows on the wire. After a summer of prolonged dry, hot spells, they were now gathering, twittering and chattering information about their upcoming  long and arduous journey south to the African continent for the winter months. They were now taking short ‘test’ journeys and searching out safe communal roosts. The long journey over open seas, using the shortest possible route away from safe coast and timed their departure to coincide with a tail wind or ahead of a weather front. The return journey to Africa took about 6 weeks.

Since Swallows fed entirely on flying insects, they don’t need fattening up before leaving as they can snap up their food along the way. We had a nice surprise when we saw them hawking after insects on the lake outside Baldwin Hide. Enjoying their aerobatics, I marvelled at their ability to fly all the way to Africa, across the Sahara to overwinter as they weighed a little more than a pound coin. As I watched them wheeling and criss-crossing each other in flight, it seemed that a collision was inevitable, but they were masters of their flight.

Then we headed straight for East Marsh Hide where the low water level had brought in a few rarities flying in to feed on the exposed mudflats. Last month, a Wood sandpiper had brought an influx of photographers, twitchers and visitors to the reserve. Earlier in the week, a Greenshank was spotted feeding and Babe was very fortunate to have seen it. As usual, I was late to the party and it was nowhere to be seen.

Greenshanks were medium-sized slim waders with olive-grey above and silvery-white below, with dark streaking on the breast. They;d long, slightly upturned grey bills with striking grey-green legs. They fed in the shallow water, pecking at the mud, water or vegetation as they walked and caught fish by using a dash-and-lunge technique. They were passage migrants and scarce winter visitors.

We were surprised when we spotted Common snipes feeding on the mudflats in the middle of the very shallow lake. Usually these cryptically coloured waders were only seen foraging in the vegetated fringes of the mudflats or skulking under the reeds. These superbly camouflaged waders were now out in the open, probing under the moist substrate for insects, earthworms, crustaceans or spiders with their elongated bills. Food on the surface were located by sight and picked up, but prey under the mud was located using the touch-sensitive sensory pits at the tip of the flexible bill.

A pair of Little egrets flew in and joined the party. It was an adult with a juvenile. Usually, individual birds don’t tolerate others coming too close to their chosen feeding site. They were feeding on the shallow clear water whilst walking through and stabbing prey with their bills. Sometimes, they ran through the shallows, stirring up the fishes and then picking them off. They were highly dependant on visual clues when hunting and feeding was highly affected if the water wasn’t clear.

On the main island, we spotted a Lapwing keeping an eye on three Little Ringed Plovers. Small and rotund waders, they blended nicely into the grey surroundings. They were busy foraging for invertebrates and crustaceans in a very distinct way; standing and watching, running forward, pecking, daintily picking up morsels of food then standing still again. It was quite cute to watch them scuttering across the mudflat, sometimes energetically trampling around on the sand to flush insects and aquatic invertebrates out of hiding places. In early autumn, they commenced a leisurely southward movement, wintering in the northern tropics of Africa.

Then between the two islands, a female Garganey emerged, skimming the water for plant materials and insects. It fed by filtering small particles from water that passed through its bill rather than tipping up. Unlike the striking male with its brown head and breast and a broad white crescent over the eye, the female was brown with pale eyebrow, dark eye line, pale lore spot bordered by a second dark line. A pale blue speculum or distinctive wing patch was visible when she was flapping her wings.

We ended the afternoon with a glimpse of the elusive Water-rail making a mad dash through the reed-beds. This highly secretive inhabitant of freshwater wetlands was often heard than seen. Its main call was known as ‘sharming’ which was a series of grunts followed by a high-pitched piglet-like squeal and ending in more grunts. It was used as territorial calls, alarms and announcements. Water rails were extremely hard to see, as they preferred to stay hidden in the thick vegetation.

This year, the Hajj, an annual pilgrimage to Mecca for Muslim adults who were able physically, mentally and financially to undertake the journey fell in August. The rites were performed over 5-6 days, beginning on the 8th and ending on the 13th day of Dzulhijjah, the last month of the Islamic calendar. I didn’t have the opportunity to join in the Eid prayers because it started very early at about 8 am. Instead, I left a few tins of cookies in the mosque for those who were there to enjoy. It was a co-incidence that on the same day, my department had our annual long lunch at the Farmhouse in Canley.

It was very busy as there were many tables joined together with families having their Eid celebratory meals. Thankfully, we’d made reservations and was seated in a nice corner. We have been here several times and I always chose the same menu which was the mixed Tandoori grill. The only difference was that the rice and nan bread were sold separately when in the previous visits, they were included in the meal. Service was quite slow due to the large number of people but thankfully, the food arrived at nearly the same time.

A week later, my colleagues and I went to Creams, an ice-cream parlour, besides Swanswell Lake again. We needed something cooling to end the working week and also to start the weekend. Every visit was an indulgent adventure for the senses as we perused leisurely the decadent range of desserts, milkshakes and smoothies from the American-style parlour. Although the place was buzzing, we got seated straight away into the comfy booth. We went to the counter and ordered and it arrived in about 20 minutes. I chose the waffles with sliced fresh strawberry, drizzled with strawberry sauce. A pot of vanilla ice-cream was included. My oh my…it was so decadent and rich. Oh…my poor hips

It was also our 22nd wedding anniversary and we celebrated our beautiful day at one of our favourite place, in Slimbridge WWT. After nearly 2 weeks of being cooped up in the casa, Babe was having cabin fever and he badly needed some fresh air and exercises. His ribs was healing, albeit very slowly. Most days I’d to take the bus home so he would not exert himself driving during the rush hours. As soon as we entered the grounds of the reserve, there were a few school buses already parked. It was the school holidays and I guess it was going to be busy day.

The Giant Lego® Brick Animal Trail was also back to spend time with their real-life cousins. The ground had now been invaded by giant animals and excited school kids. Luckily these giants were a lot more static than the animals that lived here all year round, so they posed no threat. Visitors were able to enjoy fourteen individually-designed 1.5m Lego® brick animals that formed a wild adventure trail for kids (and big kids) to inspire them to build a better future for nature. It was an amazing way of putting the spotlight on some really important species, many of which were endangered.

Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust (WWT) had the summer long activity covering their many acres of ground all over England. From the 7th of July right through to the 23rd of September WWT sites  were running these animal trails.. Each sculpture was built by professional Lego builders, taking hundreds of hours and using no less than 253,728 bricks! If meeting  these giant animals weren’t exciting enough, the younger visitors could also build-their-own mini figures and booked onto one of the interactive LEGO^® workshops.

We didn’t go checking them out and only came across them when we wandered from one hide to another. But, I knew they were back with three NEW friends - Sam the short-eared owl, Walter the water vole and Skye the stork. We met Sam on the way to Discovery Hide at the South Lake. Sam  took an amazing 80 hours to build with an incredible 37,884 LEGO bricks. I was so tempted to pluck a brick and see if anybody noticed it missing but I was good girl 

When we walked past the Caribbean flamingo enclosure, Babe spotted this Grey wagtail foraging for aquatic-type insects and invertebrates lurking under the overgrown bushes by the mud-banks. The slate grey upper parts and distinctive lemon yellow under-tail were visible as it moved.  The long tail gave it an elegant profile and it was continually active, pumping its tail up and down as if for fun. It kept on wagging its long tail at an almost incessant rate whilst walking or running briskly along the ground.

Rushy hide was very quiet. Mallards were dabbling for aquatic vegetation and invertebrates in the shallow water. A juvenile Lapwing was also foraging for worms and insects on the mudflats. A wader flew in showing its faint wing-stripe and oval white patches either side of the tail. It was a Ruff. Best known as a passage migrant, it was great to see during the early weeks of autumn passage as they moved from Scandinavia towards wintering sites located within the Sahelian floodplains in Africa.

Then we checked the rest of the hides. Unfortunately, the Tack Piece was empty and the fields were still dry due to the hot weather. We saw a herd of cattle rushing into the lake to cool down and having a drink. Cattle was used for conservation grazing, a natural and sustainable alternative to mechanical mowing. The selective nature of the grazing produced a tussocky appearance, providing a diverse range of structural habitats for insects, reptiles and amphibians. Their diet was not restricted to grass as they enjoyed eating a wide range of vegetation including brambles, leaves, bark and the dreaded Himalayan balsam. Their hooves also broke up bracken and rushes, so they were essential for managing the spread of invasive and undesirable plant species.

Then we walked back into the grounds and had a very nice surprise when we walked past the Andean flamingos enclosure. They’d chicks!!!! When did that happened??? We read a notice and found out that three pairs of Andean flamingos were given eggs of their Chilean counterparts to nest. The reason was that the Andean had been prompted to lay 9 eggs by the record-breaking temperatures that we’d. Unfortunately, the flock had been infertile for 19 years and as a result the eggs were not viable and the expectant mums and dads were left without chicks to rear

Their keepers decided that, as the Chilean flock was also laying multiple eggs, a foster program might help prompt fertility in the Andean group. They gave six of the birds a handful of eggs to nest and hatch and now the young chicks were being raised by them. Flamingos were fickle breeders and could go years without nesting successfully.Thankfully, the recent heat had the desired effect so with the Andeans in full parenting mode, they were given these Chilean chicks to bring up as their own.

Chilean flamingos are relatively similar to the Andean. They lived side-by-side in the wild but survived on different diets.The Chileans have shallow –keeled bills that filtered algae and plankton from the water and mud. They also fed on plant seeds and small fishes. Andean flamingos have deep-killed bills and  were filter feeders, feeding on food particles from water, by passing food and water over the highly-specialized bill equipped with filtering structure. They fed mainly on diatoms, algae of genus Surinella, taking the food between the sediment at the bottom and the water just above it .

Some of these Andean flamingos had arrived at the centre in the 1960s and had been at the reserve longer than any of the staff. One of the foster mums was from the last set of successful Andean chicks, raised in 1999. These short grey straight beaked chicks looked very different to the adults. It was only a couple of years later that they developed the characteristic pink feathers and the bent beaks. Slimbridge was the only place in the world where all six species of flamingos could be seen.

It was hard to leave these bundles of fluff and we were looking forward to see their future development. We made a quick pit stop at South Lake to see what was about. A large flock of Black Tailed Godwits were busy feeding in the shallow water. They still had the bright orangey-brown chests and bellies. Soon, it will change to a more greyish-brown for winter. They were sociable birds, forming large group when feeding, probing the mud with their bills for invertebrates.

We ended the month with a trip to Longford Park to check out what the resident Rose-ringed Parakeets were up to. We headed straight to  the row of Weeping Willows that overhang the banks of the River Sowe. It was very quiet which meant they weren’t around as their squawkings often led to their presence. We continued walking along the footpath and suddenly we heard loud shrills and when we looked up saw six of them flying past and disappeared. The last time we saw them, there were 4 which meant that they’d 2 chicks. I was so chuffed that they were still around. We waited for about half an hour to see if they returned, but all was quiet. We will definitely come again to check them out.

“August  creates as she slumbers, replete and satisfied”
~Joseph Wood Krutch~

Summer, summer, it will always be summer

“The serene philosophy of the pink rose is steadying. Its fragrant, delicate  petals open fully and are ready to fall, without regret or illusion, after only a day in the sun. It is so every summer. One can almost hear their pink, fragrant murmur as they settle down upon the grass : Summer, summer, it will always be summer.”

~Rachel Peden~

The UK continued to enjoy its longest heatwave with wall-to-wall sunshine. The Caribbean had arrived as thousands flocked to the beaches that turned into sun-soaked idylls. The Met Office had reported that Sunday, July 16 was the hottest day this year as the country was currently enjoying its 16th consecutive day of temperatures hitting over 28C. The heatwave was showing no signs of abating, with the Met Office even urging Britons to stay indoors with the temperatures continuing to soar. It was the country's longest heatwave since 1976 and the driest summer in 225 years.  And it looked like it's going to get hotter.  The heatwave was forecasted throughout July and August. Bookies had even slashed the odds on the UK enjoying—or suffering—the hottest day, as another blast of hot air from Spain, already dubbed the 'Mediterranean Melt' forced temperatures to rise over 30C. Summer was here to stay.

With the warm sun beating down, the garden was looking its best and I was spending a lot of the long lazy days outside. The first thing I did when I came home was to fling open the patio doors and opened all windows to bring the sunshine in. Dinner was something light, quick and easy. After a long day at work, I enjoyed having my dinner outside in my secret garden and with my feathered friends, also enjoying the glorious weather. Then reading until I couldn’t see the words. One of the best things about summer was being able to spend more time in the garden. A garden was an ideal place to escape the stresses and strains of life. It was an oasis of comfortable calm surrounded by the sights and sounds of nature.

I waited for the Swifts, arrowing through the skies like fighter jets at the tip of those ecstatic rasp-screams: ‘seeeeeeee-seeeeee-seeeee’. There were few things more incredible in nature than this herald of the British summer. At first, they drifted in the air as if in slow motion that I could make out each one’s profile: the stiff-winged, black anchor shape against the sky. Suddenly, these black boomerangs hurled down  from the heavens, snapping up insects in balletic sweeps and dips. A single bolus of 20 to 30 swifts spiralled across the blue, hurling down their communal scream, swerving and twisting and suddenly splintering apart. Then they would all come together and resumed their crazy sky waltz.

Swifts were flying back from West Africa to breed in traditional nest sites, usually in the eaves of taller buildings. One of the last summer migrants to arrive, usually in early May, they were among the first to leave in late July, so time was short to appreciate these spectacular and mysterious birds. They were superb flyers that were almost completely adapted to an aerial life, feeding, sleeping and mating on the wing. They only needed to land to lay eggs and raised their young. It was a challenge to photograph them.

Then it was time to water the plants accompanied by the screaming Swifts overhead. With this prolonged heatwave, the garden needed to be watered daily. The Verbena bonariensis, French lavenders, Daisies, Crocosmia, raspberries and Globe Thistles were growing profusely and were filled with bees buzzing merrily. Our garden had been bees, bugs, grasshoppers and butterflies central. There was always something landing on these plants. It was a garden bursting with vitality with especially with the help of the widespread sunshine.

I’d divided and replanted the Crocosmia and the glowing orange flashes were doing well. The Verbena bonariensis was a prolific self-seeder and was very popular with the bees and butterflies. Also popular with pollinators, were the Eryngiums (sea holly), a herbaceous perennial that came in shades of steely blue and liked to bask in full sun. The French lavender never disappoint but the English lavender died during the heatwave. I must remember to replace them next spring. I was excited when we’d Cinnabar caterpillars on the Silver Ragwort which I think wasn’t their ideal plant food. To help them, I would bring stalks of the Common Ragwort for them to feed on.

Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,
Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,
With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;
But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye.

For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,
You'll find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all
The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dung-pits and the tanks,
The rollers, carts, and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks.
And there you'll see the gardeners, the men and 'prentice boys
Told off to do as they are bid and do it without noise ;
For, except when seeds are planted and we shout to scare the birds,
The Glory of the Garden it abideth not in words.

And some can pot begonias and some can bud a rose,
And some are hardly fit to trust with anything that grows ;
But they can roll and trim the lawns and sift the sand and loam,
For the Glory of the Garden occupieth all who come.

Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
By singing:-" Oh, how beautiful," and sitting in the shade
While better men than we go out and start their working lives
At grubbing weeds from gravel-paths with broken dinner-knives.

There's not a pair of legs so thin, there's not a head so thick,
There's not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick
But it can find some needful job that's crying to be done,
For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one.

Then seek your job with thankfulness and work till further orders,
If it's only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders;
And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden,
You will find yourself a partner In the Glory of the Garden.

Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees
That half a proper gardener's work is done upon his knees,
So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray
For the Glory of the Garden that it may not pass away!
And the Glory of the Garden it shall never pass away !

~Rudyard Kipling ‘The Glory of the Garden~

There were plants which I grew just because the pollinators loved them. Among them was the Bronze Fennel and they were self-seeding everywhere. Although edible, we found the taste and the black liquorish smell too strong. They popped up in spring after a winter’s rest and the ferny, purple brown foliage added height and elegance to any border. The yellow flowers in midsummer, full of hot scent were irresistible to bees and hoverflies.

Next was the Globe Artichoke. Even though it was considered a delicacy, I found out that eating and cooking was too much hassle and now left them to flower into stunning purple-blue thistle-like blooms. These flowers were then pollinated by honeybees, bumblebees and butterflies. I managed to divide and transplanted them all over the garden, adding a strong architectural element with their large, silvery green leaves and thick stems topped with pinecone-like flower buds. The best thing about them was that they were winter hardy and re-grew every year.

We also have different kinds of thistle running amok in the garden. If they happened to be in the middle of the garden, they will be weeded out but thankfully they tended to stick along the borders. Legend has it that the thorny thistle once saved Scotland from a marauding Norse army, a feat that earned this tenacious plant its status as the Scottish national symbol. But, this prickly beauty wasn’t able to stop another beauty from feeding on it. The long, slim beaks of the Goldfinches had evolved to enable them to be a specialist thistle feeder.

We watched them shook their beaks in the seed hole to widen the gap or loosen the seed. Then they started pulling the seed heads out. They were deft with their feet and wings to hold tight as the wind blew the teasels around. They’d short, stout legs to stablise and often used outstretched wings to balance counteract the buffeting of the winds. They gathered in charms, with bright red faces, biscuit-brown bodies and black wing bars, twittering away with pleasant tinkling sounds. I was also delighted that the Goldfinches had a ‘golden year’ in the 2018 RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch where sightings rose by 11%.

One of my favourite butterfly was the Painted Lady, a long distance migrant which was the most spectacular butterfly migration observed in the UK. They don’t hibernate here and instead migrated to and from Northern Africa. They bred here but emigrated back in the autumn as they couldn’t survived our winter. They’d a pale buffy-orange background colour to the upper wings. The underwing colouration and eyespots had amazing details which was visible from close quarters. I squealed with delight when I saw it resting on the sunflower.

On sunny days, they were very active feeding but as soon as the sun disappeared, individuals tended to leave the nectar source and find a bare patch of earth, stone or rock on which to bask and absorbed the heat with their wings spread wide open. I was delighted when it basked on the nearby wall. Unfortunately when basking or resting, it was more wary of any movement and quickly flew away. This was our first sighting of a Painted Lady in our garden and I hoped it will returned again.

We nipped out to our favourite playground but didn’t stay long. Birds seemed to be rather thin on the ground during these hot, sultry days. Back in April and May, the reserve was filled with birdsongs as a host of summer visitors joined with our resident species to create a riot of songs, colours and movement. Now, they were hiding away as they moulted their worn feathers after a busy time in the spring mating, nesting, feeding chicks and defending territories. They spent their time skulking at the bottom of the bushes. We saw these Marsh orchids on the way in.

We made a pit stop at Baldwin Hide and was delighted to see a family of Tufted ducks with a least half a dozen chicks. They looked so cute rafting together in a line, like little corks bobbing along the waves. Female Tufted ducks were less showy than the males, being dark brown with slightly paler sides. As with most species of ducks, the drake played no part in the incubation of the eggs or the rearing of the young ducklings.  The young left the nest quite soon after the last egg had hatched and followed their mother everywhere. She brought them to safety under the overhanging trees and bushes.

We then headed straight to East Marsh Hide where we were greeted by a grating and persistent call ‘kri-kri-kri-kri’. We looked out and saw a Common Tern juvenile on a submerged piece of land to the left of the hide, begging for food from its parents . The immature bird had a similar appearance to the adult, except for a whiter forehead, speckled fore-crown and faint brown bars on the back. It will acquire the full adult plumage in its fourth year. When the parent flew off, it followed still screaming. We left and we could still hear it screaming, flying after its parent.

We’d to make a trip to Slimbridge WWT when we found out that a fledged Cuckoo chick was seen feeding out in the open. That was something we needed to see. We left the casa at 10.50 am and the mercury was already reaching 24.4C. It was going to be a very sunny and hot day. We headed straight to the walkway towards Willow Hide and spotted a crowd looking intently at the tree tops. We could hear screeching and saw shadows of birds flitting in and out. Unfortunately it was quite dark along the walkway and the chick was high in the willow canopy. The views were also obstructed by branches, twigs and leaves. From time to time, we managed to get a glimpse of the barred underparts of the chick. 

The screeching returned when a pair of Reed Warblers flew in to feed the demanding chick. It was strange watching the tiny Warblers tearing around feeding the gargantuan interloper. The chick’s open mouth served as a sign stimulus. It was about 8 times the size of its foster parents. The poor parent almost disappeared in the wide-opened mouth of its adopted baby. It kept on making high pitched and persistent begging calls ‘tsi-tsi-tsi’ which sounded like a brood of hungry young. These cries were so stimulating to the unsuspecting host parents and encouraged them to bring as much food as they would to a brood of their own. It would still be supported by its poor foster parents for a further 2 weeks, before abandoning them to head to Africa. They flew alone presumably following an inborn flight program and guided on their incredible journey by the night skies and the Earth’s magnetic field.

Cuckoos were summer visitors and well-known parasites. In May, the blue-grey male arrived on our shores from Africa and boomed out his distinctive ribald whooping ‘cuc-coo’, the calls heralding the welcome arrival of spring.  After establishing himself to the slightly browner female, nature took its course and the female’s work began. She laid her eggs in the nests of other bird, especially Meadow pipits, Dunnocks and Reed Warblers. A female Cuckoo could lay many eggs in a season than most birds because she don’t have to build a nest or care for her eggs and young. The adults flew back to Africa as soon as the breeding season was over, as early as the second half of June. Within hours of hatching, the blind and naked chick pushed any remaining eggs from the nest. Alone in the nest, it now had the sole attention of its foster parents, who darted around to feed it, leaving them no time to breed again for the entire season. After 19 days, the Cuckoo was bursting from its nest and fledged but still being fed by its parents.

After nearly 2 hours of straining our necks and eyes, we took a short break by checking the rest of the hides. Unfortunately, the Tack piece was empty and the fields were very dry due to the hot weather. Even the cattle was taking shade under the trees. We checked the Cuckoo chick again and it had gone deeper into the trees. The screeching calls were still audible. We’d enough and when we walked past the Martin Smith hide, we came across the latest addition to the giant LEGO brick animal trail. The 2018 trail included 3 newly created animals to be discovered as visitors wandered around the reserve. We might do it in next visit.

We spent the rest of the day at Rushy Hide and was greeted by an Oystercatcher family with well grown youngsters on the causeway. The juveniles resembled the adults but had brownish-black upperparts, grey legs, duller eye-ring and a dark tip to the bill. The adults looked after their chicks for much longer than other waders and were the only British wader where the adults fed their chicks, mostly on earthworms. In winter, they would be flying to the coast where they were truly the bird of tidal estuaries and rocky shores.

In the middle of the lagoon were Avocets with at least 2 different broods. Although Avocets only rear one brood a year, they will re-nest if they lose eggs or young. Several broods of fluffy Tufted ducklings and black-and-white mint humbugs ‘shelducklings’ of varying sizes were foraging along the edge of the lower pond. They were diving and upending for larvae and pupae often found under rocks as well as aquatic animals, plant materials, seeds, small fishes , snails and crabs. Lots of newly fledged Black Headed gulls were learning to be quarrelsome and noisy birds. The scrape was also alive with hatching midges, the larvae of which provided food for all these waders and ducks.

Later in the week, we drove to Coventry Airport to check out one of showcase of the 100 years of the Royal Air Force. The event celebrated the centenary of the RAF as one of the series of ‘RAF 100’ events taking place across the UK to commemorate and inspire the next generation. RAF100 was the celebration of 100 years of the first independent air force in the world which ws being celebrated by the Royal Air Force across the United Kingdom. This was an occasion to highlight Coventry’s long history with the RAF and its past manufacturing plants which produced aircraft for the service from the early 1900’s to the early 1970’s.

Coventry Airport hosted a nine-piece aircraft display, included a Meteor flanked by two venoms at the western end of the terminal. We wandered in the sunshine among the Armstrong Whitworth Meteor NF.11, Hunting Percival Jet Provost T.3, Dehavilland Venom FB.4, Dehavilland Vampire T.11 and T. 55, Percival Proctor V, Douglas DC3 Dakota, Avro Shackleton AEW.2, Hawker Siddeley Nimrod MR.1, Scottish Aviation Bulldog T.1 and British Aircraft Corporation Percival Jet Provost T.3. Unfortunately, not many people turned up but we still had a fantastic time photographing and posing with these beauties.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, --and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of --Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air...

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace

Where never lark or even eagle flew --
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

~John Gilliespie Magee, Jr. ‘High Flight~

Then we headed to the city centre to see the rest of the showcase. Broadgate was buzzing as the crowd checked out a number of military vehicles, static displays, stands, exhibitions and displays connected with the RAF. A special-edition red, white and blue RAF100 Aston Martin, RAF100 vehicles manned by military personnel, an RAF Regiment Display, the University of Birmingham Air Squadron, the RAF STEM team and RAF recruitment officers also drew in the crowds.The highlight was a BAE Systems Hawk aircraft positioned in front of the Lady Godiva statue. The queue was snaking as they waited to take turns to sit in the aircraft cockpit.

We were hoping to spend a few hours here so that we could watch the flyover by a Dakota from the Battle of Britain’s Memorial Flight at 3.20pm. It would be amazing to see it flying low over the Coventry Cathedral. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much else to see and we don’t fancy standing in the sun for another 2 hours that we decided to head home. Fortunately, at around 3.30 pm, we heard the rumbling sound of an aeroplane over our casa. We rushed out and saw the Dakota circling the city centre a few times. We were hoping that it would flew our casa on the way home but it flew East instead. But at least, we got to see it.

During my lunch break at work, rain or shine, I’m out walking around the beautiful university grounds. There were many footpaths to choose from and one of my favourite was around the ‘nursery’ lake. I always have my camera with me because you’ll never know what you might come across. As I was walking past The Slate conference centre, I came across a demonstration for a driveless pod. I’d to stifle my laugh when it hit one of the bollards. I guess there was still a lot of tweaking to be done.

Behind the Heronbank student accommodation, was a wildflower meadow which was teeming with insects. The flowers and grasses were bursting with colour supporting butterflies, bugs and bees. In summer, flower-rich meadows became a mini-jungle, alive with brightly coloured wildflowers, teeming with buzzing and chirping insects. Woodland flowers came early in the spring, before the canopy closed overhead, then the lanes, verges and pockets like this were full of creamy beauties. Among them were Corncockle, Wood anemone, Cow parsley, Daisy, Harebell, Wild carrot, Foxglove, Teasel, Lady’s bedstraw, Common ragwort and others. I could spent hours here but I’ve got work to do.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow.
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.
Lay down your head, and close your eyes.
And when they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, and here it's warm.
Here the daisies guard you from every harm.
Here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true.
Here is the place where I love you.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away.
A cloak of green, a moon beam ray.
Forget your woes, and let your troubles lay.
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

Here it's safe, and here it's warm.
Here the daisies guard you from every harm.
Hre your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true.
Here is the place where I love you

~Sting~

We ended sunny July with another trip to our favourite playground. Babe had been here several times during the month and he’d photographed waders that had dropped by to take advantage of the low water levels due to the hot weather. The shallow water and muddy margins were teeming with ducks and waders feeding on the exposed mud. A wader which got the photographers, twitchers and visitors excited was when a Wood sandpiper, one of those special autumn passage birds, dropped in to rest and refuel.

The Wood sandpiper was a medium-sized wader and the smallest of the shanks. It had a fine straight bill, yellowish legs and a conspicuous long, white stripe from the bill over the eye to the back of the neck.  It foraged by probing in shallow water or on wet mud, and mainly ate insects and similar small prey. It was a long-distance passage migrant that bred in Northern Europe and wintering in Africa.They were listed as a Schedule 1 species. As usual, it was gone by the time I arrived.

Thankfully, a Green Sandpiper foraging close to the hide, managed to hide my disappointment. While the Green sandpiper was a rather dumpy wader, short-legged and ‘hunched’ in profile, the Wood sandpiper was slim, long-legged, small headed and long-necked, an all round more elegant looking bird.  Green Sandpipers were blackish-green above, with a bright white belly and a white rump. It had a white eye-ring and a supercilium  that extended to just behind the eye.They were rare breeding birds in the UK and mainly seen when they visited in autumn and winter.

A Green Sandpiper rarely used its bill for probing, preferring to pick insects and invertebrates from the surface of the water. It frequently bobbed up and down when standing. It appeared nervous and flew off with a low zig-zagging flight when disturbed. It was conspicuous and characteristically patterned in flight, with the wings dark above and below and a brilliant white rump. In flight, it had a characteristically three-note ‘tlweet-eet-eet’ whistle.

On the main island, a pair of Little Ring Plovers were busy foraging among the juvenile Oyster-catchers. Small and rotund waders with their distinctive yellow eye-ring, they foraged for insects and aquatic invertebrates in a very distinct way; standing and watching, running forward, pecking, daintily picking up morsels of food then standing still again. It was quite cute to watch them scuttering across the mudflat, sometimes energetically trampling around on the sand to flush prey out of hiding places. Another plover joined them and its arrival was announced by repeated 'butterfly' song-flights. These migrant species, arrived in this country in mid-March and left in July to winter in the northern tropics of Africa.

We decided to head back before Hurricane Chris moved over the Atlantic and bringing with it a heavy downpour. The Met Office said that tropical storm Chris, which was building on the US east coast and was predicted to become a hurricane, caused a blip in the current sweltering weather with it a fortnight of heavy rain and thunderstorms. I was looking forward to that. We’d to take shelter at the Baldwin Hide when the heavens opened. When we opened the shutters, we were chuffed to see the family of Tufted ducks enjoying the rain.

The Tufted duck ducklings were still hanging out with their mum. As with most species of ducks, the drake played no part in the incubation of the eggs or the rearing of the youngsters. The ducklings quickly learnt who their mother was, and followed her everywhere.  Once the ducklings had fledged their first true feathers, after about 50 days, they were independent. Juveniles were similar in appearance to mature female adults but the colour was less vibrant and the tuft was less pronounced. Males in non-breeding plumage also resembled females with a brown tint and a less prominent tuft or no tuft at all. Reproductive maturity was quickly reached by both sexes, and breeding could occur during the following breeding season.

When we arrived home, we looked out the window and saw a soaking Coal Tit at the bird-feeder. The cute bird was the smallest in the tit family we have in the UK, and was easily identified with its black cap, black bib and distinct white rectangle on the back of the head and neck. A regular visitor to most feeders and was also the only member of its family that had learned to make a larder. Individual birds will visit feeders frequently but rarely eat the food immediately. Instead they took it away to stash so that when times get hard they had something in reserve. They were quite shy at bird feeders, and we often see them dashed in, grabbed a beak full and dashed off again.

We also picked another tub of raspberries after the rain had stopped. Our little plot of summer-fruiting bushes had been fruiting profusely that we’d to pick every 2 days. Known as nature’s candy, the long summer days had produced a rich red colour with a sweet juicy tasty flavour. We’d them fresh as dessert and I’d them with my porridge for breakfast. It was the highlight of fresh eating, home-grown and straight from the garden. It started with only 3 plants and these suckering plants that spread via underground runners had multiplied into at least 20 plants and they kept spreading. I am looking forward to pick more raspberries next year.

"Summer has set in with its usual severity."
-  Samuel Taylor Coleridge