Doves are indeed crying tears of Purple Rain as we have lost
yet another musical genius this year, with the lamented passing of Prince last
week. The truck radio spent the day
singing out all his classics in tribute, so that anywhere you went around
Mottisfont or Stockbridge that day, you may have heard ‘Raspberry Beret’ or ‘Thieves
in the Temple’ floating on the air.
Anyway, back to the natural world and its wonders, and April
is almost out and May Day nearly upon us – and I flippin’ wish the weather
would catch up as I’m getting weary of feeling cold outside at work all the
time – this week has felt a Northerly wind whipping round our ears and fingers
and cutting the temperature in half, despite the sun. Still, despite the ongoing cool
temperatures, nature is still relentlessly marching into the season with all
its jewels coming out on show; Stockbridge Down now has the first wave of
Grizzled Skippers out, flitting and buzzing around low to the ground, in their
usual blink-and-you-miss-it flight. I
was thrilled, as I always am, when I saw the first of them out last week and
spent some time bent over following their flight path and no doubt looking a
bit odd to any passers-by. A Holly Blue
also came out to play, as well as lots of Orange Tips, and some Green Veined
Whites – this is the time of year when the butterfly survey sheet total doubles
with every passing week – hooray!.
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| Not a great pic but they don't keep still for long! Grizzled Skipper |
Another longed for arrival that blessed me with its presence
last week were the Swallows. I was
wandering along in the sun when suddenly, swooping, swirling and darting across
the fields and right in front of my nose, were the first pair of Swallows I’d
seen this year – and how happy I was to see them! They seemed to be gliding and dancing in
celebration at being home for the summer, never slowing down nor resting, but
endlessly, gracefully soaring high and low with their shiny blue-black backs
glinting in the sun. How I marvel at
these birds that have flown so far, for so long, crossing continents and seas
to make it back to our green and pleasant land.
How I love to see them all again, perched on the telephone lines (where
did they gather before we put these lines in!?) discussing their journeys and reacquainting
themselves with each other. And how I mourn
to see them, all too soon at summers end, back on the phone lines gathering and
getting ready to leave again, for warmer winter shores.
Still, for now we can enjoy their arrival and know that it
signals that we are heading well through spring and beyond. I have also begun foraging for the year, with
Ramsons' in full bloom at Curbridge Nature Reserve meaning I could take a small
supply of leaves to make Wild Garlic Oil.
I tried making Wild Garlic Pesto last year but think I made it a bit too
strong…the taste stayed with me for days and everyone I spoke to seemed to wilt
at the garlic smell that I emitted!
Staying off that one for now.
Garlic Mustard is also popping up and so with the Ladies Smock that is
now out the Orange Tips will have plenty of plants to lay their eggs on. Also the 135 bottles of cider that i made last year, using apples scrumped from across our woodlands and orchards, are now a beautiful clear, sparkling gold and ready for drinking - going to be a happy summer!
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| Garlic Mustard |
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| Ramsons |
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| In the beginning there was sludge.... |
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| And now behold! Anyone for a pint? |
This time of year marks, among other annual firsts, the
beginning of the fishing season. Neil
our riverkeeper has spent the last few weeks leading up to it sprucing up the
fishing beats, cleaning the huts and restocking them, mowing, cutting and
clearing to ensure the rivers are looking beautiful and ready for the
season. We manage our fishery and river
here in a way that is of benefit to conservation; whilst many rivers that are
owned by a fishery tend to have their river banks shorn to within an inch of
their life, with no bankside vegetation present in order to allow fishermen
ease of access to the river, we balance the best of both worlds. Neil mows paths along the banks regularly so
that fishermen can indeed walk along and get to the river, but the bankside
vegetation is allowed to grow – reeds, rushes, sedges, and many water flowers
all thrive along the banks and provide great habitat for many bird species like
Water Rail, Moorhens and Coots, but also for mammals such as Water Vole and
Otter, who appreciate having bankside cover – especially the Water Vole who
nest in holes along the bank and need the vegetation as a cover to hide
in. It also means that the fish
themselves may lurk in vegetated fringes, or in the shade of an overhanging
tree which gives the fishermen a more natural and satisfying challenge when
fishing here and trying to lure them out.
This balance means that the wildlife benefit from the habitat and the
fishery benefits from having such a beautiful and diverse place to fish – the river
Test is one of the most famous chalk streams in the world of fly fishing and so
it doesn’t hurt that it has such beauty on top of such fame.
Talking of fish, you may remember the otter kill Salmon that
Neil and I found at the end of last year on the river bank. I had taken it back to my Rot pile in the
carpark to allow it to decompose so that I could eventually get the clean skull
for my shelf of death, as it was a truly stunning specimen, with jaws like a
crocodile. I pulled up in the carpark
the other day in time to see that Howard the gardener was digging out a drain
right where my Rot pile had been. I
rushed over to see if all my dead things were ok and he kindly informed me that
Doug their garden volunteer had moved my Rot pile out of the way to another
corner. He also told me that when poor
Doug picked up the plastic bag which housed the rotting salmon, it tore and liquefied,
rotten fish poured down his trouser legs….they then had to hose him down with
disinfectant in the wash down area. I
went over to the newly positioned Rot pile and checked they were all ok. Then I found that the decaying salmon head
was able to be detached now from the rotten body so I pulled it off and left it
on the pile and then picked up the bag of mushy fish to throw away – and some
of the melted matter oozed out onto the floor and the SMELL that arose was
superbly vile. Melted, rotten, fishy,
death. It was just incredible in its
hideousness. I held the bag at arm’s
length and put it in the massive bins – and then spent the next few hours
repeatedly washing my hands to get the stench of mouldy salmon off of them – oh
the things we suffer for the Shelf of Death! (Sorry Doug).
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| The Salmon head in progress.... |
In my last post I mentioned our five newbie Wiltshire Horn
sheep that we had collected from Speltham Down.
They spent a few weeks at Mottisfont in quarantine and then came the
sunny day that we were to take them to Stockbridge Down and their new
home. I harangued most of the
countryside team into coming and helping me by standing at each hurdle, in order
to prevent the little horrors from leaping over the hurdles to freedom, as they
have been known to do when panicked.
People didn’t seem too thrilled when I told them to stand against a
hurdle and watch out in case the sheep leapt for their faces – they’ve seen my
black eyes enough times to know I wasn’t kidding. However with everyone standing guard, and
Ryan backing the sheep trailer up, I managed to wrestle all five in to the back
(they never just walk in) and we shut them in and drove them off. Once on the Down we offloaded the newbies
into the corral whilst the rest of the flock gathered outside the corral,
baaahing with curiosity at these new arrivals.
We opened the corral gate and held our breath as the two woolly walls
met – would there be savage head-butting from Walter, who, until these newbies
arrived, had been our only male in the flock?
In the end it was a bit of an anti-climax, with some nose sniffing going
on before the newbies headed off on their own into the horizon no doubt, I remarked
wryly to Ryan, to go and find any escape route they could. And how prophetic my words turned out to be,
when my sheep looker the following day called to let me know all five newbies
were outside of the fenceline and relaxing on the other slope – the slope where
I had signs up telling dog walkers there were no sheep currently – argh! However I soon had them back on the right
side and the hole on the fence duct taped up until I could return with some
proper fencing. Must be a breakout
record, not even 24 hours before they tore their way through the fence! Oh the
games we play….every day since they have been reported to be keeping separate from
the main flock, mainly because when they get close some of the older sheep
start attacking them with head-butts so I hope they sort the hierarchy out soon
and settle down together. Maybe Walter
will take them under his woolly wing until they get big enough to fight their
own battles, but we shall see.
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| Relaxing after their Great Escape...whilst I ran around looking for them grrrr! |
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| My make-do fence repair of duct tape and dead wood - all i had on me at the time....properly fixed the next day. |
Now I mentioned a bit earlier about a Sahara trek I have
signed up to do, in November this year.
It is 100km and I have decided on Water Aid as my charity. Being that I work for a conservation charity
and donate regularly to human aid charities, I felt Water Aid was an important
one to cover as it is just so fundamental to human survival. Three days without water and it’s Game Over
for us- and freshwater is a limited resource on this planet as it is. Whilst I have to be careful not to go all
preachy on people, I really think each and every one of us living in this
country should just remember how lucky we are that we can turn on a tap and get
safe drinking water straight away. We don’t
have to gamble with our lives, or the lives of our children, and wonder if the
water we give them will lead to them dying of some waterborne disease – can you
imagine having to make that choice, roll that dice every time you wanted a
drink? The statistics include horrific
figures such as 900 children under the age of 5 die EVERY DAY from diarrhoeal
disease which could be easily avoided.
So if you feel strongly enough about this cause, or just want to send me
off into the back of beyond to see if I can ‘hack it’ and see just how sunburnt
my nose gets, then please read the full story and donate a few pennies via the
link below:
Many, many thanks in advance – and enjoy that next glass of
cool, safe water!
And so I shall leave you with a few pictures of how time
moves on - with the golden tide of the rapeseed fields flooding our horizons
already and the first tick of the season discovered on my arm the other day
(ugh).
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| The Rapeseed wave |
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| My first tick of the year, discovered in the shower - like a scene out of Psycho... |
May Day or Beltane is almost upon us – so go celebrate in
whichever way suits you best, skip around a May pole, put some Hawthorn blossom
in your hair or leap over the Beltane fires and follow your primordial
instincts as they dance you through this fertile time of year where nature is
reborn with every leaf bud and blossom, and the cycle begins once more.
Happy Beltane!
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