JULY - "Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods..."

Therefore am I still

A lover of the meadows and the woods

And mountains; and of all that we behold

From this green earth; of all the mighty world

Of eye, of ear, - both what they half create,

And what perceive; well pleased to recognise

In nature and the language of the sensE

The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,

The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul

Of all my moral being.

from LINES COMPOSED A FEW MILES ABOVE TINTERN ABBEY, ON REVISITING THE BANKS OF THE WYE DURING A TOUR, JULY 13, 1798

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Corrosion and cornflowers

For nine years now we have been running a ghost story competition for adults and a separate section for children. The prize money for the adult class comes from the entry fees and, for the children's class, it's kindly donated by Dr. Lydia Crow and Dr. Euan Bowditch.   Entries are coming in now for the 2025 competition (closing date 30th September). It's judged very fairly with five judges each allotted a section of the sifting process and all with no idea of who wrote which story.

If you're interested, then please take a look at the competition page here.

Where am I going with this? Right in the direction of The Old Rectory, Epworth, Lincolnshire. One of the homes I lived in stood on Greengate, Epworth. Its kitchen window looked across to the back of The Old Rectory. Very recently I spotted a reference to The Old Rectory in Epworth - with a brief account of "Old Jeffrey" and the terrible noises he made which terrified the Wesley family (very famously John and Charles) as they tried to find a reason for the haunting. He didn't stay long - through December 1716 and January 1717 - so one idea was that "Jeffrey" may have been some mischief committed by persons unknown! There was certainly a large family and "bairns will be bairns"!!!!

But I'm not sure. Looking across on a winter's evening, I could well believe there was something. My own view is that we dismiss such stories - tales of spirits and such - at our peril. Not because we should live in fear of them but because they enrich our culture and highlight a dimension we may otherwise miss. It would be arrogant to assume that, because we can't see something, it isn't there. Those who have lost people and animals they love, often feel a connection with them after their loved ones have left this world.  Sometimes we don't seem very good at accepting what doesn't fall into the regular course of our daily lives - what can't be controlled by us. 

One of the sweetest things about observing the natural world is the element of surprise. I can be looking out across the valley and thinking how fortunate I am to be able to do this, when something will cut across my vision and make me look again. This happened to Clemency and Ginny on a beautiful day at the beginning of July. It was the 2nd, and Clemency's birthday. On this occasion what they saw was an osprey. Clem said she couldn't believe it was a buzzard, so she checked out a match and found it most definitely was an osprey. The direction in which it was flying probably meant it was intent on following one of the water courses down to the river - our River Forss - very much a part of the lives of all who live in this area, and a source of salmon for fishermen and hungry ospreys alike.

It was quite a surprise to see an osprey actually flying over our garden!

The day before, Judith and Clemency had seen an oystercatcher and an oystercatcher chick just walking along the road near the bottom of our hill. Another sweet surprise! 

Oyster-catcher and chick heading down to the river

That early morning was glorious, "So much sunshine! Diamonds on every leaf..." began my diary entry for 1st July.

The beginning of July was full of surprises. Ginny was up early on her own birthday (3rd) to take pictures with her camera and saved a siskin who had flown into the sitting room window. We have a little feeding station just metres away from the window and I'm thinking of relocating it because I have a hunch that the reason we have so many casualties is that the birds see the reflection of the feeding station in the window and come towards it. As human beings we often forget these details when we set up something like a feeding station. We want to watch the birds as they scoff their nuts and seeds, and it is only later we come to recognise the error of our ways. Showing here!

But this siskin was lucky and Clemency photographed Ginny with her patient before it was sufficiently revived to join its family.

Ginny's healing touch - with her rescued siskin

We have been hosting at least one hedgehog this month. One evening Clemency was startled by a particularly large one as she went to put the chickens to bed and Ginny has caught them on her camera/bird feeder which, at present, sits at ground level in the cottage garden. As well as the birds, we have also caught mice and a fox on the camera.

The mouse I found in a plant pot which had filled with rainwater, was sadly deceased. I always feel sad when this happens. It had the most lovely pink little ears. 

On Tuesday, 8th July, Ginny's beehive was set up in the wood and, the next day, she and Judith brought home the bees from near Culloden. They've settled in very well and yesterday (28th) I had a little drizzle of their honey. It tasted like nothing I've ever tasted before. It was almost as if I was inhaling every summer flower all at once. I couldn't believe how special it tasted.

Our very own Stempster Bees Lady

We have a new wild flower in the border this year. It took me a while to identify it but I'm almost certain it's a MELILOT. When it started to grow earlier in the year, it kept quite close to the ground and, as it grew taller, it looked a little bit like a laburnum without the woody trunk. Now it's very tall  -  nearly as tall as the dill - and looks delicate at the back of the wildflower border. I don't know if it came in a seed mixture or if my turning of the soil a little at the beginning of the gardening year, unearthed it from a time gone by. Apparently it was used in poultices. This, and all the other medicinal herbs which have just turned up since we started gardening here in 2021, make us wonder if this site might have been a religious cell or building. The Lidar map certainly has some interesting markings which would back this up and we are on the pilgrimage route, "The Northern Pilgrims' Way", which runs from Tain to Kirkwall in Orkney.

I am constantly struggling to remove alkanet from the border where I planted it, after lifting it from the orchard about three years ago. It is a lovely blue but it grows very fast and profusely, taking over everything in its path. Vetch does that too! I didn't plant the vetch - it just arrived from the wayside beyond the house. It now knits together - well everything really! I pull it out, in great handsful, but, the next time I look,  there it is again - chuckling its little pods off! Vetch looks so pretty but it really can't stay in the border. I planted a new clematis last year. It was doing so well until the vetch woke up and then it looked so unhealthy for a while, being strangled by the vetch, but, I'm glad to say, it does appear to be on the mend! Fingers crossed!

There is so much detail we miss in the garden if we don't stop a while and watch and listen. The early mornings are my best times for catching things - before the rest of the household is up. Once the dogs and humans are up and about, the careless abandon of small creatures is put on hold. I'm a morning person so this works well for me! 

Sunflower

Saturday, 12th July, was a stunningly beautiful day here and began with smiles as I watched a young crow perched on the back of the old church pew we have in the garden. The youngster was looking fairly confident when a large flying insect came up close and personal. The bird visibly flinched. I was so surprised - I'd never seen that happen before. 

Judith makes friends easily!

The same early morning brought further smiles when I watched swallows on the telegraph wire (does anyone send telegrams anymore?!!) between the cottage garden and the kitchen garden. There seemed to be a family of them. Two swallows, who I assumed were the parent birds, were circling the others and nudging them off the wire. The young birds kept coming back to the wire and were nudged off again! I watched them with fascination - and felt a bit sorry for the nervous little ones. I was put in mind of school swimming lessons at Scunthorpe Baths!

I love those summer early mornings when the sun's dappled light dances on the wooden doors - it's so restful to watch - a bit like looking into a pool of quivering water. Water! How precious is water - all creatures need it but they don't all have easy access to it - and, for some, there is more than just an element of danger when they go in search of water. Humans included.

After the rain

I try to maintain full bird baths but, during the hot weather, the water goes down very quickly. The hedgehogs too need fresh water - as do all the other overnight visitors. The burns are relatively low at present. We haven't had the drought conditions which have affected people further south but the soil is often in need of some extra watering. Lots of people say they don't like watering the garden but it's one of my favourite jobs. There seems to me to be something spiritual about offering cool water when it's needed. I love to soak everything and I fancy the plants and flowers are quivering as they drink. 

The mist cools things down a little too and offers plants some incidental moisture. We've had a few misty, moisty mornings in July and, almost always, these mornings become glorious afternoons. One foggy early morning, Judith and Clemency rescued a vole near the shrubbery. It was as still as death when they found it but they noticed it was breathing. They gave it water and then took it through to the cottage garden. There was no way of knowing what was wrong with it - there were no marks on it - but it just wouldn't move until they had given it water.

Years ago, my brother made a garden urn and it has been a part of our various garden displays for a long time. (Mum lives in a first floor flat and has no garden of her own but looks out over a pleasant communal garden.) The garden urn had been in Toad Hall - a raised part of our yard - and I noticed there was nothing growing in it just now so decided to bring it round to the cottage garden - in the first instance to support the crazy musk mallow which was draping itself over the flagstones. I used my trusty steed to move the heavy urn. It's a garden trolley and makes gardening so much easier for me. When I took out the plant pot from the urn there were so many slugs underneath!!! I left them overnight in the hope that they would either feed hungry creatures or make their own way to the compost heap in the corner. 

One of the prettiest shades of lupin

Clemency saw a toad in the yard. (Toads love slugs.) It seemed to have been living amongst the many small plant pots which are housing the little plants destined for the meditation garden. A very dear friend died last Christmas and this prompted Clemency to prepare a special area for a meditation garden. She knew that my friend and I shared a love of nature. It's something Clem has had in her mind for a while - a memorial to our beloved friends and relatives who are no longer with us. 

The small pots of plants have been checked over and very few casualties have been found. This is hopeful!

Early morning sun through the Swedish Whitebeam

Caithness Show was on the 19th July and, as usual, the family contributed with entries and thoroughly enjoyed the proceedings. Amongst their successes was some nature photography: Judith entered a photograph of a grasshopper, Ginny took second place with her brown hare photo and Clemency won the trophy for Best Photography with her "Four On A Theme" photos. Her theme was Stempster Butterflies and all four were perfectly captured on camera. We spotted the brown hare on a walk the next day - and lots of butterflies in the garden. But no grasshopper!

Clemency's "Four Photos On A Theme"

We didn't notice any frogspawn in the pond during springtime and yet, last week, I saw the tiniest frog merrily hopping along the path near the wood store. It was more of a jump than a hop really. I almost trod on it before I saw it. Now I keep my eyes open for more but I haven't seen one since then. 

The bees - both bumble bees and honey bees - are up and busy by six in the mornings. It was five this morning! It's so pleasant to stand by the door and listen to the early morning sounds. The bumble bees seem to love the lavender which I have in a large pot by the French windows. As well as their soothing buzzing, I'm intrigued by their furry wee bodies and the way their coats contrast with the soft blue of the lavender flowers. They contrast and yet they seem to partner up so well. Only in nature!

Lavender

Another early visitor is the wood pigeon. He comes and rock'n'rolls around in the seeds which have been scattered by the smaller birds the day before. He is strikingly beautiful but not loved as much as he should be. His roly poly body atop his amazing claws is finished by a pretty little head and curious expression. I think he's charming.

The animals, the birds, the trees and the flowers - and all component parts of the natural world - join together to connect us with our spirituality. A non-corporeal divine intelligence permeates their lives and ours. Holy men and women from around the world and throughout time have demonstrated extraordinary kindness and gentleness in their relationships with the natural world - and, in every example I look at, the kindness and gentleness spilled over into relationships with fellow human beings. In a world where organised religion is waning, it is essential we don't lose sight of our own spirituality - a spirituality which was gifted to us long before sacred texts were recorded.

Catch-up with the purslane

Everyone has heard of Saint Francis of Assissi and his "brothers and sisters". But Britain has its own animal saint in Saint Cuthbert. Cuthbert was nurtured by Irish Celtic spirituality while he was growing up in Northumbria and he went on to form remarkable relationships with the native wild creatures. Wild places are especially important in the Celtic tradition and it's not difficult to understand why we need to get back to nature when one looks at the brutal conduct of governments such as that leading the State of Israel. We do what we can. We donate what we can to those in need. We write what we can. It's so hard to make a difference when combined power and wealth have a complete lack of regard for human life and the world of nature. But we keep trying. At the beginning or at the end - or somewhere in between - each day, enjoy your garden, or maybe take a walk in the park, or by the river or out into the wilderness - and know once again the gift of spirituality. 

Unicef: The Rights Of The Child: "In times of war do not make us part of any battle, but shelter us and protect us from all harm."

O happy living things! no tongue

Their beauty might declare:

A spring of love gushed from my heart,

And I blessed them unaware:

Sure my kind saint took pity on me,

And I blessed them unaware.

from THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER BY SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE