MAY - "Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon...

"...Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.
To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—the
        ships with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?"

       - WALT WHITMAN

Looking into the "wild wood" through the laburnum. 

Inspiration to write these monthly blogs comes to me, not only from the natural world in which I have complete faith, but also from the people who read them. I have feedback in the form of letters, emails and  conversations - but even without the feedback it inspires me that so many people read the blogs. It warms my heart that there are others for whom the natural world is the source of those everyday miracles we are all so much in need of right now. Sometimes there seems to be cruelty in nature and I find it hard to bear - but it is human interpretation which tells us what is cruel. A pity then that human beings can be the cruellest of all animals! I don't know of any animal which tortures another - except for homo sapiens.

I discovered recently that bumblebees can carry 70% of their body weight in mites. I just think that this is grossly unfair when bees are essential to all life on our planet! I'm told however that the mites are only harmful because they can make flight difficult. I would have thought that, if I were a bumblebee, I wouldn't be too comfortable to be grounded. It is possible to brush off the mites with a light paintbrush. The problem then is that these mites may be controlling the more harmful mites underneath. Good luck with the decision-making!!

Alium with bee

We are fortunate with our bees here - all kinds, shapes and sizes. The sound of bees buzzing around me when gardening in late spring and in summer brings back the overarching memory of gratitude for the new world with which I have been gifted each year through those months.

The return of the swallows this year was Keith's prize! He saw them first, on the last day of April, as he was driving home through Janetstown near Westfield.  Two days later, everyone had seen them but me. It was one week after Keith had seen his first 2024 swallow that I saw mine. And there was much rejoicing! On the same day I heard the cuckoo for the first time this year. He has been quite vocal since then - letting us know about the dastardly deeds committed by him and his mate in springtime. One of my 2024 cuckoo highlights has to be the evening when Judith took Auri, aged 5, outside to hear the wandering voice of the male cuckoo which we had just heard in the kitchen garden. The female sings too - but not the same song. Her song has been likened to water gurgling as it goes away from the sink. Doesn't sound very pretty does it!

Mayfly

From mid-May to mid-June the mayfly hatch is taking place all around us in Caithness. We've had numerous mayflies getting up close and cosy with us already this season. They're not very frightened at all. There have been several rescue missions to get them out of the conservatory before they became desiccated.  Quite ingenious they are too - those contraptions to reach them without damage to their fragile bodies and wings. Please don't ask me what type of mayflies they are - you know my limitations - with insects especially! One bit of mayfly trivia I do know though is that they were one of the first winged insects - flitting around the earth long before the dinosaurs plodded into the picture.

On Monday morning last I watched the sunrise and felt the power of the sun increase as it rose higher in the sky. The patterns on the wall changed so quickly, almost like a kaleidoscope, and then the sun caught a crystal I have on top of a pile of books. Well, what a shot of pure joy that was. Won't forget that in a hurry! I'm speechless when I see something like that - and something like that is gifted to me each springtime. There's nothing finite about the joy of springtime. 

First rose 2024

I saw the blossoms on the hawthorns this week - may blossom - and my mind wreathed around the hedgerows of my Lincolnshire homes - from the lanes down Carrside and along past Studcross Cottage in Epworth; by way of Carrhouse, Belton, to the boundary hedges leading from Barton to Barrow near the Humber. Now I see the same creamy curds of blossom decorating the clusters of leaning thorn bushes in Caithness.

The lambs are getting so big now. When Auri was staying a couple of weeks ago, Judith took her to see the lambs on the path to the wind farm. She loved them of course but I think one of her greatest pleasures that morning was getting close to the wind turbines. They are impressive - and for a five year old they must be quite intimidating - but how good to be able to tell her that they are responsible for the power which makes her electricity. No dirty fumes, no ravaging the countryside, but serene and competent - like angels.

Like most of Britain on Friday 10th May, we had an amazing display of the Aurora Borealis. Strange things happened to equipment - making it very easy to believe the mythology attached to this phenomena. We've seen the aurora often since we came to live in Caithness but I'll never forget the very first time I saw them. We were living on a hillside overlooking Scapa Flow. Our television started to show Norwegian programmes. We went outside and wham! They hit us! The sheer strength of the colourful rays delivered something between wonder and fear. I'd never expected anything so positive. When people tell you their nature stories you allow for a bit of exaggeration because you know yourself that amazement lends itself to it but, on that evening, there was no need to exaggerate! 

Apple blossom

I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that every apple tree at Stempster, whether inherited or recently planted, has an abundance of blossom this year. The blossom is setting now so I'm hoping we don't have any high winds to blow it off. So far so good!

Elderflowers

I've noticed that all blossoms - not just the apple trees - have been setting quickly this year. There doesn't seem to have been much time between them appearing and then setting their various fruits. 
My dahlias are planted and all seeds sown but a small few. Now I must coddle the newbies a little. Our climate throws up some lovely days but we're by no means certain how many there'll be up here. We're glad of them when they happen - and then we make the most of the time suitable for gardening. The fields are a stunning patchwork at present - shades of green with lashings of yellow gorse on the hillside and, a little further along, on the same hill, a solitary field of oilseed rape - a bit like a pop of colour in an otherwise orderly interior design. The cabbage stem flea beetle has been a problem recently with regard to rapeseed oil yield. Scientific work is ongoing to try to prevent this. The hope is that something will take the place of the neonicotinoid seed dressings which were formerly used to control the cabbage stem flea beetle. These neonicotinoids are being allowed, by the government, on sugar beet this year. The sugar beet is a non-flowering crop so this will not in itself be a problem for bees but the leaching of the nicotine-like substance into the soil and the effect of that on neighbouring wildflowers is worrying for those of us with concern for bees.

Daisy

On the same day this month, both Lydia and Ginny saw an osprey. They were both outside. Lydia had walked down to the river and Ginny had walked up the path towards the wind farm. We worked out that they must have seen the same osprey within minutes of each other. 

Another exciting revelation is that we now have magpies in West Caithness. Yes, they can be a nuisance, but the furthest north we have seen a magpie, until this month, was at Dunbeath. Last Saturday, Ginny saw a magpie fly over the garden. She was very surprised and, when she told me, I felt a little bit ashamed of myself because Keith told me he thought he saw one recently and, of course, I said, "That's nice". What I was really thinking was "It must be time for his optician's appointment!" Ginny was so certain though - that I felt I should eat humble pie - magpie?

Wishing you could hear the birdsong as I took this photo of our wee wild wood

We've heard the woodpecker a few times. So elusive though - Ginny and I thought we saw one earlier in the year but could not be positive. These are the black and white ones - the great spotted - not the green ones. They drum rather than sing - an unmistakable sound. I believe they prefer the mature trees. We have quite a variety here. The pines don't live too long but we have a few older ones - a couple of Scots pines. We also have two very old maples - giants really. This year one of the two oaks looks set to produce acorns. Since Euan worked his magic with the trees, we've noticed a big improvement in shape and health and productivity. Clemency plans to have layers in the little wood and is trying to introduce such things as azaleas and rhododendrons to live below the tree canopy. Everything to play for! We already have both in the front garden - hard to beat as specimens - but we'll see.

Flowers on the holly

Candles on the horse chestnut

“... a valley shaded with rhododendrons, close to the snow line, where a stream milky with meltwater splashed and where doves and linnets flew among the immense pines..."

       - Philip Pullman, The Amber Spyglass

Rhododendrons are much maligned members of the heath family of plants. They were introduced into Britain in the eighteenth century and their descendants are still lighting up parks and landscaped gardens up and down Britain.They are magnificent in May and their deep green shiny leaves add richness to the garden even when the flowers have faded.

Rhododendron

Forestry and Land Scotland say,  "Don't be fooled by its beautiful flowers... rhododendron is Scotland's most threatening invasive non-native plant."

I can see an argument for control of rhododendrons in the wild but they make a marvellous addition to the back of the border or a shrubbery corner.

There are many different types of rhododendron. I would say most people remember the purple variety. I certainly do. I found them stunning when I visited Morecambe with my family in the early 1960s. We would go in June and they were hanging on there, in the parks, just for us!

One point made about rhododendrons is that they can poison the soil in which they grow so that they are able to dominate and prevent other plants from flourishing. I don't know the truth of this but it certainly gives them another dimension!

In China there are legends attached to the rhododendron. One better known story is that of lovers who were changed into birds. They flew around crying tears of blood which in turn became rhododendron bushes. Closer to home, Daphne du Maurier used the rhododendron to evoke the spirit of Rebecca in her famous novel.

The one in the garden here is at its best right now but I have to say that I also find the fat buds so hopeful and squidgy as they develop into flowers. I'm quite a fan really!

Young beech leaves - and friends

"Dusk crept in like a cold stepmother's breath."
 
The words were written by Betsy Whyte in her book "The Yellow on the Broom". Betsy was born into a travelling family at the end of the First World War. Her writing style is wonderfully candid and thought-provoking.

The last few days have been misty - foggy even - after some glorious weather in the middle of the month. I found myself remembering the travellers who stayed down Belshaw, close to the small rise we called "Hill Top", in Belton. I never understood why the grown-ups seemed edgy when they camped down there. I almost envied them, gleaning the glory of the seasons wherever they came to rest on their travels, waking up to a silver-dewed meadow, feeling the sun on the back in the heat of the day, drifting off to sleep with a sky full of stars all around the encampment.

A negative memory of those childhood days was the residue of their stay. Granny and I would walk out to where they had been camping - we never did while they were there - and there would be a small area of ash in the middle of which were things that just wouldn't burn - an old pram, some bent wheels and the like. Once I remember they had thrown an old pram into a marshy area to the right of the lane leading across the old railway line to Sandtoft. That image has stayed with me. It may now have sunken into the earth but at the time it spoiled our lovely countryside. And there was no reaching it.

Sometimes the travellers stayed for longer periods and the children would join our class in my primary school in Battlegreen, Epworth. I clearly recall one little boy with curly red hair who was such a sweet character. He struggled with his lessons but added so much, in terms of social development, to a class of village children. I think we learned from him. It was certainly difficult, knowing him, to understand the prejudice which some villagers felt against the travellers.

Yellow on the broom

The broom in our garden is in flower and it reminds me of the "summer walkers" who left the cities in May to spend late springtime and summertime in the countryside, picking fruit for farmers, living from Nature's larder and pearl-fishing in the rivers. Their children were born in tents and caravans and their people died during the travelling time but the travellers' ethic embraced these events and moved on, no doubt altered but still living the life they had chosen.

An old-fashioned caravan came up for sale in Thurso recently. I was tempted. Maybe a few years ago!!!!

Chive flowers, some people recommend them to hay fever sufferers. Let me know!!!!

"Before the starry threshold of Jove’s court
My mansion is, where those immortal shapes
Of bright aerial spirits live insphered
In regions mild of calm and serene air..."

       - JOHN MILTON