Thursday 12 December 2013

Trouble in Spades and a Trip to the Blacksmith






My spade has snapped in half.

I've done lots of digging over the past couple of weeks and I've enjoyed it - the weather has been fairly mild and the ground is quite soft. There's also been plenty to do - firstly, putting in a new fence as some of our original fencing needs replacing (and here is the old fence being tested out and found wanting, I think!)




Next, we've planted a Hornbeam hedge around the (new) beehive area - and to make sure it actually gets established, it has to be protected from rabbits (so I've used some spirals) and the sheep (so a temporary fence has been put in).






Finally, I've been moving some rose bushes. Years ago I decided to change an area of perennials to a rose patch, but as I never managed to change it completely, it's remained half and half.  This hasn't really worked (for a start, I get ripped to shreds by thorns every time I'm gardening around the perennials) and I've now decided to move the rose bushes to a separate area.  And it was while I was digging up roses that my spade snapped.

With all the recent digging, I felt as though I'd worn the spade out - and the final straw was the deep and tangled root ball of the largest rose bush.

The spade was now useless, but I don't like to just throw things away and buy new if something can be fixed.  So I took it to the Blacksmith...






I must admit I'm fascinated by a forge; I love to see the fire and the old tools and the traditional way of working. The forge I visited probably isn't my nearest one - but it's my first choice. I get such friendly and good service there. The building is also centuries old, and it's amazing to think of the changes that have taken place in a smithy over that time - from shoeing horses to modern welding...







A couple of days later - my spade is ready and it looks gleaming and brand new.  Here I've propped it up against our mistletoe so that it looks a bit festive...



And now it's back to more digging, under the eye of the local wildlife...







Hope all your preparations for Christmas are going well!

Wendy

Monday 2 December 2013

The Snow Goose, Winter Swans and Darwin's Lost Ship


Whooper Swan at Welney




The other day, I was reminded of the story of 'The Snow Goose'.  I was at Welney (The Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust Centre) watching dozens of pure-white Whooper Swans flying in to be fed at sunset. Whooper Swans migrate from Iceland to Britain every autumn to spend the winter here.  Watching these beautiful birds fly in against a fiery, Fenland sky is an amazing sight, and so atmospheric - even if I did watch them from the warmth of the observation room (and my photos of Welney are all through-the-glass shots)

Welney Sunset




Also flying in for food were dozens of ducks and geese. Now I've mentioned many times before that I love geese (having some of my own), so I was in heaven at Welney watching all this wonderful wildfowl, knowing that a fair proportion of these birds have flown across oceans and seas battling harsh weather to reach here. And it was the thought of the birds flying through storms that reminded me of Paul Gallico's 'The Snow Goose'...





I'm sure you know the story (it's a children's classic) but here's my brief summary. The Snow Goose, a young bird migrating across the North American continent, has been blown off course in a terrible storm to the wild and isolated Essex marshes (so the setting of this story is actually more my back yard than the Fens). There, when she comes to rest at last, she is shot by wildfowlers (and you can imagine my feelings about these...) The injured bird is found by a girl, half-wild herself, who takes it to a local man to be healed.

The man, Philip Rhayadar, who is disabled - lives a lonely life in an abandoned lighthouse, painting, sailing his boat and caring for wildfowl. He is isolated from the local community because of his appearance and the fact that the wildfowlers resent his protection of the birds. Together the man and the girl, Frith, heal the Snow Goose, and although she leaves in the spring with other migratory birds, she returns to them every winter. Then, many years later, in 1940, Philip sets out in his 'little ship' to rescue soldiers from Dunkirk, and on one of these trips he is killed. The Snow Goose has flown with him on these rescue missions and stays with him until he dies. She then returns to Frith, 'a wild spirit', flying over her as she waits for Philip, before she disappears for good.

It's an unashamedly sentimental story, of course - and it has a very old fashioned feel about it.  But it's also very descriptive and haunting. Although it was written over 70 years ago, the landscape where it is set still has that sense of wildness and remoteness about it today (and at this time of year, it's the perfect antidote to Christmas shopping crowds...)

Darwin's Lost Ship

The marshes at Paglesham
 Just a note on my last visit to the Essex marshes. I was visiting Paglesham, a village right on the coast. Buried in the mudflats beyond the village lies the wreck of  HMS Beagle - Charles Darwin's ship. No one knows for sure where it is, but it does seem incredible that this famous vessel, where Darwin made his notes and drawings and came up with his theories, is now lost under the mud. The ship is in this part of the country because it finished its life as a coast-guard vessel chasing local smugglers.

After a quick search on the internet, I've discovered that there is at least one project where a replica of the Beagle is being built - and I'm sure this ship will look amazing. But it just won't be a preserved original.

I don't know whether the ship will ever be found - I don't suppose there is much of it left.  It was sold for scrap in 1870, and a large part of it was probably broken up.

But it is fascinating to think that this ship - with all that history - is out there somewhere...



Well, I don't believe I'll have time for anymore birdwatching or visits to the coast for the rest of this month...

It's December already....and I can't put off that Christmas shopping any longer...

Thursday 21 November 2013

A Walk at Sunset



Geese in the fields at sunset




Brrrr........winter is not my favourite time of year. And I think that winter really has arrived this week, too. Last week there were some warm, golden, autumnal days, but now it's much colder and damper with a bitter north wind and the first frosts. So I've got the thick jumpers ready - and also my gloves - and my very unflattering woollen hat that I wouldn't have been seen dead in twenty years ago...

If I was to think about anything that makes winter bearable, it would be, first of all, a log fire every evening. And then it would be the vivid colours in the skies at sunrise and sunset. When I take Harry for a walk, I see the sun coming up over the fields.  And then, later in the day (work and weather permitting) we walk again as the sun goes down.

Here is a typical walk through the woods and fields at sunset - where the changes in the light and the sky are beautiful.

We set off - and our first sight is of the Greylag and Canada Geese that come into the fields to feed. Harry has a healthy respect for geese (after a few encounters with our own), so he always gives them a wide berth (and I would never allow him to go anywhere near them anyway). But these wild geese don't know this and still watch him warily.

Then, we walk around the edge of the field where I keep my beehives...






I won't be looking at my bees now until the spring. They've sealed the frames in the hive with propolis and I wouldn't want to break this and expose them to the cold - although I will just quickly lift the roof in the New Year to put some food (fondant or candy) on top of the frames.

The bees will fly on warm, winter days, but if it's cold they'll all cluster around the queen. I've put some homemade insulation on the top of the hive, made of our sheeps' wool sandwiched between two pieces of wood. This will help keep the cold off. I've also surrounded the hive with some protection against Green Woodpeckers.  Green Woodpeckers will attack a hive when the ground is frozen and they can't get to the grubs. A beehive then becomes an easy target for them and they'll drill a hole right through the wood. Luckily, my homemade protection (of chicken wire held fast by a bit of old pipe) has always proved a good deterrent.



Leaving the beehives, we take the path through the wood - but it's already quite dark. Where the landscape catches the last rays of the sun, it's still light but in the wood it's becoming difficult to see. It's silent there, too - except for roosting birds and the trees creaking in the wind. I'm more than a little relieved to get out into the sun again...

And then we're back in the fields - to see that a rainbow is arcing right over us.  I love the sight of this, until I wonder why I'm seeing a rainbow at this moment.....and then, I realise why, just as we get soaked by a sudden, heavy shower...







Harry's not impressed at all by this and so we're now picking up speed (his pace). We finish the walk as the sun is going down. There are too many trees blocking the view for a really stunning sunset, but the sky is full of colour...

First pink...






...and then a blend of fiery colours
Back on the smallholding, it's time to put the chickens and geese away - and the geese are already waiting impatiently for their food.  Poor George, the older gander, is waiting at the back and has to be fed separately because Cador, the dominant gander (and his son) would chase him away if they were all fed together...









The wild ducks come in for food, too - but it's too dark now to take a photo of them.

And then it's time to go inside, where my next job today is to start the Christmas cake.  This is my Grandmother's recipe, and I'm always moved when I see her writing. I miss her lots and she's on my mind when I make it. And it's a delicious cake, too, full of spices and alcohol.

Before I start the cake, I turn the wireless on. We sent this away recently to a specialist, who has repaired the valves and added a digital receiver to the back. So although it's old, it can now receive a digital signal. And it still has that sound of an old-fashioned wireless...



It's late afternoon, but it already feels like evening and it's definitely getting a lot colder outside.

So it's time to light the log fire at last...

Wonderful!

Thursday 14 November 2013

A Battle, a Poem and an Island in the Marshes


The Battle of Maldon: Ealdorman Byrhtnoth




Autumn and winter on the Essex coast....this is my favourite time of year to come here. There can be a special atmosphere then; big skies with a low sun, calling winter geese, dozens of waders squabbling along the shoreline. And as the little creeks feel so remote and unchanged, there's a sense of history here, too.  It's easy to imagine old sailing boats and smugglers...

And battles. When I came here a few days ago with an old friend of mine, we visited Northey Island, site of the Battle of Maldon. The battle took place in August 991 between the defending Saxons and the invading Vikings.  The battle is known about today because it was written about in a poem not long afterwards - and most of this poem still survives.

We reached Northey Island by walking from the town of Maldon along a footpath.  It was a lovely, sunny day and surprisingly Maldon wasn't that busy. Often, when the sun comes out, the quay can become a bit crowded, but on this day there were just a few people wandering around looking at the Thames Barges...






It was no surprise, though, that we were the only ones taking the footpath away from the town, because it was all mud. I think everyone else had more sense! But it doesn't take long to reach Northey Island, which is owned by the National Trust. It's quite small and it appears that the only residents are the wardens and different birds...










The island can be reached by boat or across a causeway at low tide. And it was on this causeway that the battle was supposed to take place.

The Battle of Maldon

So what happened? The Vikings had arrived from across the North Sea and made camp on the island.
The Saxons, alerted to this new danger, left their settlements...



And flocked to their leader, Ealdorman Byrhtnoth (he's the statue, above). Byrhtnoth was supposed to be taller than average and an old warrior (perhaps in his sixties).  He probably faced Sweyn Forkbeard, son of Harald Bluetooth (such fabulous names) as leader of the Vikings.

The Vikings demanded tribute, but Byrhtnoth was having none of this, and defied them. Then the rising tide intervenes. When it eventually recedes, the Saxons had blocked the causeway...

Causeway onto Northey Island




So the Vikings (using guile, according to the poem) negotiate to come across for a real battle. Byrhtnoth's fatal mistake is that he agrees to this, and he is then killed during the fighting. Some of his army flees, but several thegns, loyal to their lord, make a courageous last stand around his body.

The Saxon warriors' defeat is regarded as glorious. The Vikings are deceivers; Byrhtnoth's thegns are heroes. And a story was born, to be told in the mead halls...

I've been thinking about this poem over the past few days. When I attended the Remembrance Service at our village war memorial on Sunday, the war poems that came to mind were those of the Great War poets, who wrote that war isn't glorious at all.  I imagine that no one writes death or glory poems about current conflicts, do they? We think of war in a different way today.

Sorry that these reflections are all a bit heavy, but this time of year, around Remembrance Sunday and 11th November makes you think, doesn't it?

Anyway - here is more of Northey Island and nearby coast in autumn, 2013; a very peaceful place once more...








And worth a visit, to hear the echoes of the past.

Saturday 26 October 2013

A Golden Forest, An Ancient Church and Charcoal Burning






The great beech trees of Epping Forest are beautiful at any time of year, but when I visited here in August I made a promise to myself that I'd come back to see their autumn colours.  I think mature beech trees are the trees of autumn; their leaves turn from green to gold to copper before forming a magic copper carpet on the ground.  As Epping Forest is reported to contain over 80% of all the UK's ancient beech trees, it has to be the best place to come and see this wonderful sight.

But when would be right time to make this visit? Looking at the trees where I am I've noticed that many of the leaves are still green - and this ties in with reports on the news that autumn is about two-three weeks later this year. So should I leave my forest visit until early November?



Well, I decided to go now - because with reports of gales arriving over the next couple of days, there's a good chance I could go all the way there and find only bare branches! But a visit this week did mean that instead of finding copper, I found a blend of green, copper and gold. In fact, gold was the true colour of the forest that day, because a lovely sun lit up all the leaves. So, although it was a different sight to the one I'd planned - it wasn't a disappointment at all. And I was still able to wander through the carpet of copper...




After I visited the forest, I called in at nearby Greensted Church. Greensted Church is reported to be the oldest wooden church in the world and the oldest wooden building still standing in Europe, so this fascinates me because of my love of wood. As we're completing our own, traditional, timber-frame barn at home, it's inspiring to see an ancient example of a wooden building...

Greensted Church


The first Saxon settlers here worshipped their gods in groves in the forest. But after they converted to Christianity, the first church was built on this site in the late sixth or early seventh century. Dendrochronological analysis of the timber walls indicates that the church standing today was constructed around 1060-1063 AD.  Changes have been made to the church over the centuries to preserve it, for example, around 1500, the thatched roof was replaced with tiles and the timber tower, clad in Essex weatherboarding, was probably built in the 1600s. Windows have been added, too, as the Saxon nave would have been windowless with the church lit by lamps...








Further restoration was undertaken in the Victorian era and this included shortening the base of the ancient timbers...






A Crusader's grave lies just outside the church.  It's possible that the Crusader was something of a local hero, because he was placed against the south wall, and his coffin lid was made of stone (not a local material.)









Back at home...

There are some signs of autumn in our trees (I had to include this pic to show off our extra long sheep!!)




We'll be using wood from our trees for charcoal burning - our new project.  As we're surrounded by hornbeam and sweet chestnut, this is the wood we'll use to burn...

Charcoal Burners



More on this when we get going!

Meanwhile a huge oak has come crashing down in a nearby meadow.  As you can see, the crown appeared to be very healthy (the whole tree appeared very healthy from the outside), but the trunk was rotten inside...











The crown





Fortunately, it didn't do any damage. It'll be moved, because the meadow is used, but I always find it fascinating when fallen, dying trees are left because they'll become a new home for lots of different insects.

Last of all, we've added a new spirit to our collection of carvings, gargoyles and grotesques. We recently bought this Green Man i.e. this isn't one we've made, and he makes us smile because his fierce expression reminds of someone we know!



So I'm waiting, now, for these gales. The '87 hurricane had a huge impact on our nearby wood - and there are still plenty of fallen trees lying around from that time. I wonder if these coming gales will change the local landscape dramatically, too?

Sunday 13 October 2013

Hares (Again), Experiments with Planting Parsnips and a Car Full of Bees




Just a note about the Hares because they're back in the local fields again. Unlike in May, when they were hidden in the wheat - this time they're right out in the open, because the corn has now been cut and some of the fields have been ploughed. So the Hares look very exposed - and I worry that they can be easily seen by their human and animal predators.

I walk close to the hedgerow so that I can see them and not startle them, and Harry is under strict instructions to keep right next to me. But, like before, he just isn't that interested in them - they're too much like Rabbits, which also seem to leave him a bit cold. He's more of a rodent-under-the-shed kind of dog...










I wonder if these are the Hares I saw earlier in the year, and if they've reared any young.  I don't think I've ever seen a Leveret.

There are fewer insects about now; I saw a Red Admiral butterfly yesterday battling against the wind, and my bees will do some flying in the sun, but once the temperature drops and the rain comes in, they'll stay put in the hive. There are a few, last Dragonflies and Damselflies settling on the decaying plants and leaves...






The recent strong wind has scattered plenty of leaves and twigs everywhere.  The Poplars outside the smallholding never seem very sturdy when the wind blows and there is a rustle of leaves all along the lane.  One story I've been told is that these Poplars were planted for matches, when farmers were given incentives to provide the wood, but they were left when there was no longer a demand for them. Well, whatever their origin, I'm keeping a close watch on the branches at the moment, because this is where the winter thrushes (Fieldfares and Redwings) usually appear first when they return...







Experiments with Planting Parsnips

Leaves are falling, too - all over the veg patch, where the autumn veg is coming through. I've mixed results as usual, here - my carrots wouldn't look out of place in a dolls house, but my parsnips are looking great.  And this is thanks to my lovely Dad.

Last year none of my parsnips came up in all that cold, wet weather - and I believe my seeds just rotted away in the ground. So Dad had a suggestion for this year. He has been gardening for decades - and as well as using tried and tested methods, he's also always keen to experiment with new ideas.  So his suggestion was that I could always try something different - by germinating the seeds outside the soil, in tubs filled with damp kitchen paper...

A few of the parsnip seeds germinating on the kitchen paper




And it's worked beautifully. All the seeds have germinated by this method and I was able to lift them gently out of the tubs and plant them into the soil a few weeks later.

Now I have lots of parsnips coming up in the veg patch, ready to eat after they've been sweetened by the first frost.  Here is what some of them looked like just before we went on holiday last month...

Guaranteed Parnsips - although, of course, this year the ground is dry!





A final word on bees...

I know it's happened to many beekeepers - and it has just happened to me.  I've quickly lifted some frames out of a beehive that were full of honey and placed them into some new plastic boxes to take away. Then I put them in the car.  After a quick glance, I didn't see many bees still clinging to the frames and so believed that there weren't many -and I thought that the few bees that were now in the boxes could be safely released at home. I also had too much faith in the sealed lids of the new boxes and completely missed the small, bee-size gap in the corner of them.

And, of course, I got it all wrong. There were more bees than I thought on the frames - and they all found that bee-size gap in the box. When I came back to the car after a only few minutes away the first thing I saw were lots of bees looking back at me through the car windows.  Thinking back, I was lucky that I wasn't already driving when they started to escape so I didn't suddenly have lots of buzzing passengers while I was on the road. But I did have to immediately open all the car doors and windows and watch them fly off - and then thoroughly search the car to make sure every single bee had gone!





Escaping bees are one of the hazards of beekeeping. I was recently told by a fellow beekeeper that he had once ordered a whole hive of bees and these had somehow all escaped in the local Royal Mail sorting office.  The first he heard about it was a call of panic from the local posties to come and do something about it.

Sometimes I'm glad that there is a seasonal break from the excitement of beekeeping...

Thursday 3 October 2013

Hedgerows and Hives (or Sloe Gin, Blackberry Gin & the Attack of the Wasps)


Being watched while I pick blackberries (by this curious Muntjac Deer)



I love a September holiday because it lengthens my summer. I tell myself that autumn doesn't arrive until my summer holiday is over - and so, in this household, autumn officially began this year on 22nd September. And it really does feel like autumn now.  The nights are drawing in, the Swallows have all left, and leaves are starting to cover the smallholding.  We've also begun to bring the logs in and light the fire each evening. I love the fires - but I'd still rather have the long, warm, summer evenings outside.

A downside of taking a September holiday is that I've already missed days of blackberry picking. We eat lots of blackberries throughout the year, so I have to find the time as soon I as come home to pick several tubs-full for freezing.  I also have to pick lots of sloes, too, for Sloe Gin, because we love to drink this at Christmas. I posted a recipe for this last September, but I've decided this autumn to make it sweeter by adding more sugar (by increasing the sugar to 1lb) - because each year we seem to like our drinks sweeter and sweeter...


Last year's Sloe Gin at Christmas



I've also made some Blackberry Gin.  I've not made or even drunk this before, but I like the sound of it. Blackberry Gin is made in a similar way to Sloe Gin, except the blackberries are strained first.

Blackberry Gin

Ingredients:

4lb Ripe Blackberries
3lb Sugar
Gin

Method:

Place the blackberries and sugar in a bowl in a warm place until the juice is drawn from the berries (as a guide, this can take about 8 hours in an airing cupboard).
Strain through a jelly bag/muslin/strainer.
For every pint of juice add a pint of gin.  Mix well and bottle.
Store for around 3 months and drink at Christmas!

NB Apparently, if you add a touch of hot water to this it helps to ease a sore throat!!

Fortunately, there's been plenty of sunshine since I came home from holiday, so I've been able to go out into the fields and forage for berries, taking Harry with me. He does get bored by it all, but...lovely dog...he's very patient...


The fields seem so quiet now I can no longer hear the Swallows, Swifts, Chiffchaffs etc. And there are very few butterflies around, too - mainly a few Whites and Speckled Woods.  But I am seeing Small Coppers for the first time this year...

Small Copper Butterfly





After blackberries and sloes - apple picking is next - and there are lots of apples this year. We have a large apple crop in the orchard we planted a few years ago...

A corner of the new apple orchard





All our trees in the orchard are surrounded by pallets after we acquired lots for free some time ago. These protect the trees from our sheep and the local rabbits - and although they're a bit ugly, they've worked really well.

A few of our neighbours have also very kindly invited us to pick apples from their own trees (as they don't want them), so we're currently doing the rounds of gardens and orchards.  But now we have to find a place to store them all. We do have several stacked apple crates, but I'm not sure this will be enough, so the apples that are already beginning to spoil are quickly fed to the sheep, chickens and geese.  Most of the good apples will go to make apple juice.

Bees and Wasps

In late summer, wasps often attack weaker honeybee colonies to steal their honey.  All honeybee colonies have guard bees at the entrance of their hive to see off any intruders, but wasps are very persistent and aggressive. While the strong colonies will fight off the wasps, the weaker ones can become overwhelmed.

Unfortunately, this is what happened in my apiary this summer.
 
I had some bees in a nucleus hive (a smaller hive) because I was in the process of introducing a new queen bee to a colony - and according to beekeeping wisdom it's always best to introduce a new queen to a small colony first i.e. so they can become used to her - and then she can be introduced to a larger one.

But, this time, my small colony turned out to be a weak colony - and so it was unable to fight off the wasps.

I discovered what had happened when I lifted the roof off of my nucleus hive expecting bees - only to see a few wasps helping themselves to the honey.  I hadn't realised wasps were around the apiary because I hadn't seen them, but there must have been a nest nearby (I had seen them at another apiary and put out lots of jam-jar wasp traps, but I hadn't seen a single wasp around the nucleus hive).

I'm often told that wasps are good for the garden, and that everything in nature has its place, but like other beekeepers, I have another opinion of them altogether...

 Grrrrr...................................