More froggy photos & blackbird song

It's hard to keep away from my little frog pond at the moment. I never know what I'll see next. Here's today's crop of photos of my little frog colony.

Firstly, what I think it a male frog, sitting among rushes by the edge of the pond. He's sat there almost all day....

Next, a frog couple, in amongst the same clump of rushes. You can see the pile of frog spawn in front of them, that's growing in size each night as couples return to lay more eggs ........

The last photo today is of what I think is another male frog, hovering above the second mat of frog spawn that's currently being laid in my pond. This one's being deposited on top of a submerged pot of waterlilies that haven't emerged yet. The frogs have chosen to site both mats in the warmer side of the pond that gets the most sun throughout the day. I have read that tadpoles develop quicker in warmer temperatures and I expect, like other eggs, hatching must also occur quicker in a warmer spot.........

It is wonderful to be able to get so close to these frogs. I've never been this close to frogs before for such a prolonged period of time. I am fascinated, amazed and quite hooked by what's going on and have to keep making trips to the bottom of my garden to see what's new.

All photos on this blog are taken with my Digital SLR Sony a100 camera which has Sigma macro lenses. I am not a photographer but this camera makes it possible for me to take good enough photos to then zoom in and crop them in Photoshop. What I find wonderful about this is that my camera catches details that I can't see with my naked eye when I'm actually taking the photo. When I zoom in on an image later, I am able to see things close-up, that I would never be able to see otherwise. It brings with it the fascination of a microscope or magnifying lens - a whole new world opens up for me of the extraordinary beauty and complexity of nature.

Blackbird Song

My sheltered garden seems to have several friendly blackbirds, male and female. They are always hopping in and out around bushes or sitting on top of the lovely old brick wall. As I knelt in the sun, weeding my garden today, the air was filled with that wonderful liquid song that blackbirds sing in Spring. I think for me it is quite the most beautiful bird song that I have ever heard. I don't know what it is about the blackbird's Spring songs, but they are so evocative, and even more so are the songs they sing in Spring after it's rained.

In my head these songs have a label: "the blackbird's liquid rainsongs" and to me, they surely belong in heaven. I wish I could have recorded the songs I heard today, to post here - plus I wish I could also take a good blackbird picture to post with today's blog. So far, my record of taking good birds pics is zero!

Courting frogs, emerging seedlings - Spring has sprung!

It's the first official day of Spring - and a stunningly beautiful warm day. My little garden pond is heaving gently with little flurries of tumbling kicks and splashes as the many frog couples get together and the males vie and fight for possession of the females. 

Each year, from January onwards, depending on the weather, the frogs emerge from their winter hibernation places on land or in pond and ditch bottoms, and return to their same annual breeding pond. Most British common frogs now breed in small garden ponds, liking the warm shallow water (toads prefer it a bit deeper), so our little ponds are becoming increasingly important to our frog population as farm ponds decline. Here is an amorous frog couple that I was watching swim lazily on the warm surface of my pond this morning......

Once frogs reach their breeding pond, the pairing begins. Each male grabs an egg-swollen female, climbs on top of her and grasps her in an almost stranglehold (amplexus) embrace below her armpits, with his front legs. Once he's grasped his female, the male frog will not let go of his tight hold on her for several weeks or even months, until she has finished laying all of her eggs! The male frogs, once they have their partner in this tight embrace,  make the most moving gentle, purring, low croaking sound. I think this is actually meant as a warning threat to other males, but in reality it sounds somewhat tender and contented. The females are mute, otherwise I imagine all the males' soft churring noises would be drowned out by protesting croaks from these poor half-suffocated, bloated females!

 

Other males may try to oust the male from his position but rarely succeed and instead may climb on board and grasp her too. Females may be injured in the process or even drowned if several male frogs clasp her and fight together (Hands up! - Who does not want to reincarnate as a female frog?!!). When I went out to watch and photograph the frogs this afternoon I realised that the frog couple in the photos above that I saw this morning, was not a couple - but were 2 males, clinging onto one female, one male above the other! You can see this better in the photo below..... If you look carefully you'll see that the second male frog has his head under the upper male frog. You can see the females hind legs, below the second male's splayed-out legs.....

Egg (spawn) laying happens in the dead of night - at about 3am, with frog couples congregating together in the same place in shallow water to lay individual clumps of eggs to create one large, gelatinous spawn mat. Each males fertilises his female's eggs by releasing his sperm into the water at the moment she ejects the eggs. Extraordinarily, these frogs will not eat throughout the whole breeding time, which can last from several weeks to over two months! Because this period follows on from their winter hibernation fast, some frogs become too weak to survive this breeding time.

 

I will try and continue watching my frogs and their emerging progeny over the coming weeks and months. As you can probably tell I have been reading up about frogs and their breeding habits! Most thanks for the information in this piece goes to Tevor Beebee's book: "Frogs and Toads".

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All the seeds I've sown in my conservatory have leapt out of the soil! I now have little pots of pea, broad bean, summer purple broccolli, early purple broccoli, kale and calendula marigold seedlings. In addition, my deep windowsill planters are full of mixed salad, red salad bowl and mizuna seedlings. This is my indoor cut and come again salad experiment, although if the temperatures stay this warm I may have to move these planters outside to continue growing as it may just be too warm for these in my conservatory.

It is wonderful to feel the warmth of the sun after this last long winter and for things to really be growing again. Bliss!

Broad Beans, Tulips and a Song of Gratitude to Gardeners!

 

Today I sowed my first veg seeds of the year in my conservatory- some dwarf Broad Beans in pots and cardboard tubes. Wayhay! I splashed out mightily this week, at the fantastic Three Willows Garden Centre, deciding to invest in my veg growing this year and also get some food for the wild birds in my garden. I bought some large waterproof trays and capillary matting to stand pots and seed trays on in my conservatory and two deep, windowsill planters for growing early, indoors, 'cut and come again' salad and Mizuna, some potting soil, packets of veg seeds and some fat balls for the birds (an extravagant but satisfying week - the excitement of growing veg once again makes it all feel very right somehow!)

I've been planning and scheming how to turn my little lawn area into productive raised veg beds this Spring (Bye Bye lawn mower hopefully!) - Anyway, more on this soon maybe, if my plans work out!

 Tulips

I just couldn't resist buying myself a bunch of tulips this week! I walked past the florist's and saw some multicoloured bunches of tulips and just had to take some home with me. They have lifted my spirits for days - so breathtakingly, fleetingly beautiful!

 

Song of Gratitude to Gardeners

For some weeks now I've been trying to remember the words of a song that the Scottish folk singer Dougie McClean used to sing - about someone who gave thanks to the people whose gardens he walked past every day, on his way to work. It so captures how I've felt so many times, when I've lived and walked the streets of towns and cities. 

I remember vividly having the same feeling of gratitude when I lived in London and used to walk regularly from Archway Road to Parliament Hill. My route took me down a small, cherry-tree lined side-street, where in Spring, each front garden held a cherry tree in full, pendulous blossom, arching and canopying over the pavement, so that one walked down a  misty, bridal tunnel, treading over soft, confetti-strewn, pink and white fallen blossoms - pure, heavenly magic! No wonder the Japanese worship and celebrate the time of cherry blossom. I know it's a bit early for Cherry blossom - but here's a taste of magic to come - and below are the words to that song, which I re-found today.

Gardens - Traditional Hebridean Song

A day's work, a week's work, as I go up and down,

There are many gardens all about the town. 

One that's gay with daffodils, one where children play,

One that's white with cherry flower, another red with May.

A kitten and a lilac bush, bridal white and tall,

and later crimson roses against a granite wall.

I have passed your railings when you never knew,

And people who have gardens, I give my thanks to you.

A Close Encounter on Bath Hills!

Today I went walking up Bath Hills at Ditchingham, on the edge of Bungay. Although it is friendly and great to walk with a dog or human companion, there is also something to be treasured in walking alone: - the quiet time to mull things over and perhaps find answers or inspiration in the rhythm of walking - and the things one sees and hears, which one might not have paid attention to, or that might have been frightened away by a dog or talking voices.

 

winter ash twig

Today I was grateful for my solitary walk, - as rounding a bend at the top of the hill, I came eye to eye, face to face, with a female roe deer, among the trees, on my left. We stood quietly watching each other for some time before she slowly turned and made her way down the slope and through the trees. No matter how many times it happens, I still feel a sense of awe and privilege whenever I have a close encounter with wild animals and birds. I had no camera with me today - but instead, here is a photo I took last summer of a roe deer I met, knee-deep in the meadows at Denton. The focus isn't good because this is a zoomed in crop from a rapidly taken longer shot!

 Roe Deer doe - Denton meadow, summer 2009

I decided not to walk with my camera today because I wanted to go for a long, brisk walk (it being fairly cold and breezy). I tend to amble along when I have my camera, stopping repeatedly to photograph plants, twigs, fungi and mosses and the landscape. 

Towards the end of the Bath Hills path, before Cold Bath House lane, I came across thick carpets of snowdrops on either side of the track, on the bankside, and spreading in a great mass, through the trees. Walking back down the track, I was struck by the beauty of a single, large, spreading Holm Oak tree. Back home, I read that the wood from this tree was used as vine props in the past and I wondered if this tree might have spread from acorns from Holm Oaks, that the Romans brought here along with the vines they planted on these slopes - (this being Vineyard Hills). Maybe I'm being fanciful.

Many of the first signs of Spring are only slowly emerging, held back by the prolonged cold. There are small, early signs of new growth. Spreading on the bank beside the path, I found dense mats of the small spade-like, first leaves of Chickweed. I picked a handful for salad, for my lunch - It was as delicious as any lettuce! These have been my second wild harvest of the year - the first, some Cleavers shoots (see photo below), found under a sheltered hedge-bottom at Denton, a couple of days ago. Soon we will be picking nettle shoots for our first nettle soup!

 

young Cleavers shoots - (Gallium aparine)

 

young leaves of Green Alexanders (Smyrnium olusatrum)

Another Roman introduction, Green Alexanders, is doing it's usual, fresh-as-a daisy, winter-what-winter? appearance. This plant never fails to amaze me. It is as though it has it's own form of anti-freeze in its veins. No matter how hard the winter, even after prolonged sub-zero temperatures, the leaves of Green Alexanders look just as fresh as salad leaves grown in a protective polytunnel! In a few weeks time it will be vigourously thrusting upwards to become the lusty, tall umbellifer, with bright yellow-green flowers, common to our roadsides and cliff slopes in summer.

As I walked down from the top of the Bath Hills I could see how much the flood-waters have spread in this past week. The river Waveney has now burst its banks in several places, and even more of the surrounding meadows and Outney Common are now under water. When I walked back down the hill, I went to check the footbridges by the former site of Baldry's Mill. The water has risen and was rushing and swirling, almost covering the first footbridge - and the path between the two footbridges was under water. I waded through, calf-deep, in my trusty thermal Muck Boots. Streaming under the misty, brown waters were the flowers and stems of drowned snowdrop clumps, lying horizontal, Ophelia-like in the torrent.

The pots of crocuses and jonquils I bought last week and planted in containers are now in full flower! Because of the prolonged cold, many of the early signs of Spring are slow emerging, but I can feel that because of this, when the warmer weather does arrive, everything in the natural world will start moving in a crazy, mad rush of Spring busy-ness, procreation, new creation and growth. Gardeners and naturalists alike will no doubt be chasing their tails and running around like blue-arsed flies in a vain attempt to keep up with everything, until collapsing in a heap, briefly, in July, post midsummer, as the midyear turns and the upwards cycle of growth reaches its peak and turns.........

I have been getting my conservatory ready for sowing some veg and plant seeds in pots and trays - the Bungay allotments are waterlogged and my new garden needs veg plots digging - so I will be starting off some broad beans, lettuce, sprouting broccoli, kale - and later on, french beans and winter squash plants, indoors, for planting out later in my new small garden. I will just be growing the plants I love to eat most, along with fresh herbs ....... nothing too ambitious this year - although I do have plans for a fan apricot and fig tree for my south-facing wall - and am saving up to buy some espalier apples to train on my fences!

check in here, in the coming days for more on Denton walks, hazel and coppicing and what this walker carries in her bag! 

It's March!

Pinch Punch - first of the Month! - Pinch me it's March!

Could this winter really be almost over? Well, today was certainly the MOST beautiful blue-sky-and-sun-day - such bliss after the recent cold, grey days. March has certainly come "in like a lamb", but will it "go out like a lion"? We shall see.......

Brought alive by the sun, I headed over to Denton, to explore more of the beauty of the wonderful Countryside Access Scheme walks that lie between Denton and Alburgh. I will post more about this in the coming days, with plenty of photos - For now, in celebration of March, here are a couple of pictures I took today...... some Winter Aconites (above), that I saw nestling in the sun at a hedge bottom on an old packway at Denton, and below, some pollen rich hazel catkins  (lambstails), dancing in the breeze on the south side of a hazel thicket.

Check in here over the next few days for more ..........

Snowdrops and Pussy Willow

I have to confess that I hate the cold and am very much a hibernator in winter, particularly in a winter as cold as this one has been. I'm ashamed to say I've only been walking a few times each week since Christmas, and very fast, wrapped-up walking at that! However, cabin fever and the promise of experiencing the first signs of Spring drew me away from my fireside again this week.

I went walking a couple of days ago, on the outskirts of Bungay, parking my car down the track, near the Halcyon fishing lakes, at Ditchingham. (To find the track, take the B1332 Norwich exit off the chicken roundabout, and then just over the roundabout, turn immediately left, down a muddy track which goes to the Halcyon lake gates). I followed the Angles Way footpath sign (just to the right of the gates into the fishing lakes), and walked past the lodge cottage, through the trees and down to the river. There, under the trees, among fallen leaves and branches, carpets of snowdrops were emerging - a wonderful, first sign of Spring.

 

Walking further, taking the left fork to the first footbridge, I came across more snowdrops, even spreading half submerged under water, at the rapidly coursing water's edge. The side channel and main river were in full torrent, swirling and rushing, brown-yellow coloured, high under the footbridges.

Walking over the main cast iron footbridge onto Outney water meadows, I was brought up short by the extent of flooding in the meadows after the recent snows and heavy rain, with much of the grazing now a vast blue lake with many birds settling on the surface of the water (no binoculars that day, so nothing identified).

There was a stiff, bone-searing beeze across the water meadows, so I recrossed the footbridges to walk back through the trees and snowdrops, then along the lefthand path, through the gate and straight across the Ditchingham Lodge driveway to the footpath gate leading up to the Bath Hills walk.

These beautiful south facing escarpments (don't you just love that word!) were once the home to Roman Vineyards (some call these hills Vineyard Hills). I love this walk past the Scot's Pines. On a hot summer's day one can sit on the slope, with the sun on one's face, breathing in the scent of warm pine resin wafting on the  breeze, from sap that has oozed  in round amber drops, from the rough pine bark. I love to roll and squeeze a drop between my fingertips and inhale it's rich, aromatic perfume - such sticky, treasure - as deserving of honour as any spice brought by caravans of old from the Far East!

The view of the water meadows and river valley floor, from between the trees from high up on Bath Hills, is so beautiful at all times of year. Today, I looked down on a vast lake of blue floodwater framed between the silhouettes of tall winter tree trunks.

I was so virtuous on this walk and restrained myself from picking any snowdrops for my table; instead I rewarded myself with a trip to the Three Willows Nursery on the Flixton Road in Bungay, where I bought some little pots of snowdrops for my new garden (snowdrops are best transplanted 'in the green'  ie, when in leaf), and some pots of crocuses and 'Tete a Tete' jonquils. Earlier in the day I had seen my first bright yellow crocus, in a friend's garden - such fleeting, vibrant, jewel flowers......

I will have to make a trip to Woottens Plants in Wenhaston very soon, to buy some pots of their large, Galanthus plicatus "Woottens Selection" Snowdrops (see photo above). These are thought to originate from the Crimea and are some of the earliest snowdrops, often flowering in January, with beautiful, large, pendulous flowers and wide glaucous leaves - go buy some - they are a treat for any garden at this time of year when we long for signs of new life and growth! (www.woottensplants.co.uk)

Yesterday I drove out to Denton, near Harleston, to take the footpath that leads onto water meadows and some of the many hidden Denton Countryside Access Walks. You can enter some of these amazing, hidden walks down Chapel Hill Road - almost across the road from Chapel Hill Farm.

If you walk across the first, long narrow meadow and through the gate into the second meadow, you will find on your right, at the edge of a rushing beck, a sight for sore eyes - the first of several trees of Salix daphnoides, each with a beautiful shining crown, of the softest, silver, glistening pussy willow catkins,  their furry tips, decorating the ends of mahogany stems and branches.

 

Follow this beck up the meadow, and you will find more of these magical silver-tipped trees , and then a carefully preserved pond, which in summer is home to carpets of waterlilies, kingcups, flag irises, bullrushes and dragonflies - but at this time of year, the pond is often graced with a riming of ice and frost and one, graceful, young, leaning, silver-tipped willow tree. 

Beyond this pond and a blasted, majestic old oak tree, is a footpath gate through to a whole other world to explore. Cross a beautifully built "who's that trip-trapping over my bridge?", troll/pooh-stick bridge, over a deep beck, where in late spring (if you're lucky) you can catch a flash of blue as a kingfisher streaks along the beck. Over the bridge and you are into a series of many meadows - all lovingly and sensitively cared for under the Countryside  Access Scheme.

You can go left or right - along further water meadows, or straight ahead, across the old parish boundary ditches, edged with thick stools of coppiced hazel, then up the hill and into further, higher meadows of permanent set-aside, each boundaried by wonderful, high, thick hedges of hazel, ash, hawthorn, crab, oak, spindle, field maple, small leaved lime - and so much more. There are an abundance of wildflowers and grasses to be found in these meadows as the year progresses - and if you're quiet you will catch a glimpse of some of the abundant wildlife here - a streak of olive bright green of one of the many green woodpeckers - or a shy roe deer grazing, knee-deep in white clover......... return to this hidden paradise throughout the year, for many wonderful wildlife experiences......