A Ghostly Apparition

Sunday 8th January 2012
A sunrise not worth getting up for!

A dash of winter colour
A pleasantly peaceful, still day spent planting some very decorative dogwoods and willows. I plan to coppice these for some unusual garden sticks in the future, maybe an exploration into hurdle making and basketry too. They should be easy to propagate so the next batch will only cost me a little patience waiting for the cuttings to root and begin sprouting new growth.

I am generally happy with my own company, especially when lost in my work outside, but it was nice to have Sue working alongside me today.

Evening wildlife extravaganza
Today's main excitement all happened in the gloom.  The dramatic sunset prompted me to take a  wander round the land perusing my planting work of the last few days. The rule at the moment is never to pass the haystack without bringing back a bale or two of hay. As I dutifully loaded the wheelbarrow with a couple of bales a ghostly barn owl appeared out of the murk. Now this would not have been a notable event when we first moved in and the farm's rodents were firmly on the menu of every local owl. In fact, up to three barn owls used to roost in the stables, but this was my first sighting of one for over half a year. I suspect that last year's exceptionally long, cold winter followed by three months of drought did for the local breeding birds, but there are still plenty in the area so I'm sure the gap will be filled sooner or later.
This was not my last surprise of the day from Mother Nature. As  I unloaded the hay bales next to the asparagus bed, ready for mulching in early spring, a pair of bright eyes flashed open at me then closed again. In the increasing gloom, I peered into my hand to realise I had inadvertently disturbed three peacock butterflies from their winter hibernation. Astonishing to ponder how such a delicate creature can survive an English winter. No point putting them back in the haystack, as they would only get disturbed again, so I gently placed them in a crevice among the hay bales in the stables. Hopefully they will find their way to the bottom and survive to brighten up the spring.
There was still time for another long absent visitor to put in an appearance. The familiar call of a Little Owl came from one of the large ash trees which attract so many birds into the garden. Last winter, a pair of Little Owls were nightly visitors and often came calling well before dark. They moved on (or perhaps just became very secretive) in the springtime, presumably to raise their chicks, and so far this year I've only heard them calling from Don's garden over the road. Let's hope I get to see plenty more of both these owl species in the coming months. They are most welcome visitors to the farm.