Frozen

Most of the snow has gone now, but what is left has turned delightfully crunchy. For we've had three days of beautiful, crisp days and distinctly chilly nights.
This is what we missed out on last winter and it was much needed. These frosts are a natural part of our seasons and, without them, things go wrong, pests multiply and diseases thrive.

So without further ado here's a small photographic celebration of a cold start to the day.

 

All the muddy slush without the fun.

I was up bright and early this morning to capture the amazing winterscape at sunrise. For when I went to bed, this was the scene outside.

At the tender age of 48 I still find this inexplicably exciting and could sit and watch the snowflakes tumbling all day long. The only problem last night was that it was absolutely pitch black. With no artificial lights outside, the only way to actually see the snow was to fire the camera's flash and capture it mid fall. By the time I went to bed the ground was white.

So I woke up somewhat reluctantly at just past 7 this morning. My body was telling me to snuggle back down into my cosy bed, but we had no snow last winter and I was keen to capture the farm and the fenland landscape at it's wintery best.
So imagine my disappointment when I looked out of the window to see rapidly developing puddles of slush. Overnight the snow had turned wet and nature had taken all the fun away. All we were left with now was cold wetness, muddy slushiness. I climbed back into bed and pulled the duvet over my head.


I did eventually get up, for there are always animals to look after and in this weather that job becomes even more important. We've deliberately gone for hardy breeds as it can get rather bleak here in the winter. The Shetland sheep, while not looking overly happy about the situation, did at least seem to be taking it in their stride.

The guinea fowl, who never cease to amaze with their toughness, were looking a bit bedraggled but no worse than that. Presumably last night was one of the rare occasions when they abandoned their exposed perch and headed for a modicum of shelter.




Happiest of all seemed to be a rather large flock of fieldfares who had gathered a little further down the land and seemed to be enjoying the decidedly damp ground, for the snow melt had created some rather large temporary pools.

Which reminds me, I really must go and sort out the bird feeders. I've been holding back on this as the rats have been more numerous than usual this year (hopefully a cold winter this year will sort them out) and I don't want to do anything to encourage them. It's decidedly hard at times here to prevent the food scattering all over the floor as the wind buffets the feeders.

Winter's on its way.

The last few autumn leaves are still clinging onto the trees, but a couple of morning frosts in the last week are a reminder that winter is not far away.

 

 

 

While the thistles have already died back to spiky rosettes, my mahonias, which look so exotic, are looking their best as they come into flower. Mahonia is a very important bee plant, for our honey bees will still occasionally come out on warm winter days and there will be very little for them to forage on. Without plants like mahonia, they will just be using up energy worthlessly.

 

 

 

Gerry, too, has been getting into the spirit of Christmas, bringing home plenty of presents. I'm not sure who these presents are for though. I suspect they are peace offerings for Angel, who has never liked him since she moved in, despite his most patient efforts. Maybe it's because we had Mr Charlie Brown, a friends puppy, in the house a couple of weekends back, but something has persuaded Angel to be slightly more tolerant of Gerry of late.

 

Anyway, I went into the kitchen this morning to find a poor vole curled up next to a large tuft of grass.

 

Gerry often pounces into the grass and brings everything away in his mouth, vole, grass and all. This sort of gory find is not unusual, but I was somewhat surprised to then come face to face with these presents placed just inside the patio doors.

 

It seems Gerry had a very busy morning and it wasn't his last catch of the day either.
On the plus side, he has been catching voles since he moved onto the farm and there certainly still seem to be plenty around!
There are still plenty of kestrels, barn owls and little owls around.

Happy New Year!

So, that's Christmas over and done with for another year. I have to admit to being a bit bah humbug (well, quite a lot actually) about this particular festival. For I don't believe in the original main subject of its celebration (that'll be Jesus) and I don't believe in the modern subject of its celebration either (that'll be a gluttony of consumerism).

I did make a few allowances this year - once every few years Sue actually gets some presents. I like it to be a real surprise for her when she does! And we have even had family staying, so it has been the closest to a traditional Christmas that we have got to for quite a few years.


















But for me, a much bigger reason for celebration is the passing of the winter solstice. I don't want to get all hippy about it, but the passing of the shortest day is, for me, the start of the new year. Hence the greeting at the top of this post, which you may mistakenly have taken for being a bit premature.
But as far as I'm concerned, I'm actually six days late with my salutation.

Everything on the smallholding grinds to a slow halt in December. If the weather's kind, it's a chance to start digging the soil and spreading the compost and manure. But this year the weather has not been kind. December started with several days of thick fenland fogs before it deteriorated into a succession of strong Atlantic storms. Fortunately we escaped without any damage, but there are times when the wide open landscape of the fens has its disadvantages - it certainly hasn't been the weather to be working outside for long periods of time.
No. Better to snuggle up inside and contemplate the flickering flames of the woodburner.
We've not yet had any significant frosts, or any snowfall, but as the days get longer the cold gets stronger. I prefer the back end of winter with its crisp air and sharp frosts.

Anyway, back to the theme of this post. As far as I'm concerned the New Year begins as we pass the shortest day. It's a time to look forward.
And if you don't agree with me, you've got to admit that the chickens can't be wrong about it! For the number of eggs they produced sunk sharply towards the end of the year and on one day we actually got no chicken eggs at all. (No-one has told the white ducks about this and their eggs have been a godsend.)
But pretty much coinciding with the passing of the Winter Solstice, the chooks have started laying again. Today we got seven eggs, including two blue ones from the Cream Legbars.

Maybe the chickens should decide when the New Year begins!

First Frost Winter 2013/14

The title of this post seems somewhat precise compared to my usual organic style.
And there's a reason. For I wrote about this same subject last year and I probably will next year too!

Working the land as I do, the seasons shape my life more than ever before. Each has its merits, each has its problems. But there's no point moaning about the heat in summer, the wind in autumn or the cold in winter. They should be embraced, as long as they're not too extreme.

As the seasons cycle by, I have found it more difficult to blog this year as I seem to be in constant danger of repeating myself. Having said that, I enjoy this annual cycle. I look forward to the first frost, I look forward to sowing seeds in spring, to earthing up potatoes, to the first rhubarb, the return of the swallows to their nests, long summer evenings, harvest time, Autumn gallivanting after rare birds and, dare I say it, the first frost come round again.

So it was that one morning this week I stepped out of the door and the crisp air instantly invigorated my lungs. A frosty morning means clear skies, still air and a beautiful winters day.
These winter frosts are welcome. They get rid of nasty diseases and they break up the soil. They sweeten up the parsnips and take the bitterness off the kale. They announce a fine day - it may snow but it probably won't be a soggy day.

Come May, I won't be waxing lyrical about Jack Frost any more, for he'll be threatening my young seedlings and stopping me planting my beans and squashes outside.

But, for the moment, winter is here and I'm looking forward to it. I'll have to find a good way to fill those long, dark evenings in front of the fire. I've got lots of projects in the offing and now I'll have some indoor time to get them rolling.

Not the sharpest of frosts, but the first of the winter.

Getting the bees ready for winter

Winter is truly on its way now. I've not seen a swallow for over a week and their chattering has been replaced by the thin calls of flocks of redwings sounding lost as they come in off the North Sea. More harbingers of winter, a flock of 30 Pink-footed Geese honked noisily as they flew over late in the evening last Sunday. These won't settle in the fields here, but will remain closer to the coast. The fields do, however, hold small flocks of golden plovers and lapwings (peewits to some), occasionally panicked into the air by a prospecting peregrine. Skylarks chase each other overhead and winter flocks of goldfinches bounce around. Yes, the birds are telling me that winter approaches.

But potentially the best bird of the last week has, frustratingly, remained unidentified. For last night, on the way back from locking away the chickens, the silhouette of an owl broke the skyline. It was no barn owl, too large and too long-winged. It was certainly either a Short-eared or a Long-eared owl, both of which have been coming in over the North Sea in the past week. I'll be on the look out for the next few days. If it's a Short-eared, I'll probably see it hunting over the fields late one afternoon. But if it's a Long-eared, which would be a new bird for the farm, it will be much more strictly nocturnal.

All these signs of a change in the seasons mean that we need to start preparing. Winter won't wait for us.

Sue pretty much takes care of the bees these days, ably supported by Elaine, her bee buddy. I stand at a distance, taking the occasional photo and, once in a while, making a run for it when one of the guard bees finds me and starts battering me on the head.

We still have three colonies going, which is a great improvement on the one which came through last winter.
They withstood the wasp onslaught, helped by me finding the wasps nest - a tiny hole in the ground over in the goose paddock, but a hole through which a steady stream of striped assassins were emerging and flying straight over to the bee hives to battle and plunder.

Somehow, despite us taking very little honey from the bees this year, they managed to get very low on honey (maybe not helped by the wasps). To this end Sue has been feeding them with sugar syrup. The local shops must wonder what on earth is going on as Sue has been regularly emptying their shelves of sugar!

 

But they've been doing a grand job turning Sue's sweet offerings into winter stores, safely stowed away and enclosed in a myriad of hexagonal storage jars. Where they've stored it in the supers, Sue has been moving it down to the main brood box where they'll huddle together through the winter, so that it will be readily accessible during more difficult times ahead.

Last weekend our helpful expert, Elaine, visited to help Sue make a detailed inspection of the hives before they are closed down for the winter. What we had thought was the strongest hive, the original one in the middle, is in fact the weakest! Why? Because there is too much drone brood. Useless blokes!
The bees which are active and flying now are not those which will take the queen through the winter. No, it is the current brood which will have the job of keeping her warm and trying to survive the winter. So a hive full of drone brood is not much use.

Hopefully there'll be enough females born to carry the colony through. Bad news for the queen though, as in the spring she will need to be replaced.

For the meantime, Sue will move the frame feeders out of the brood section of the hives but continue to feed the bees using top feeders. This is so that she doesn't have to expose the bees to the cold when she tops up the food. It won't be long now until the bees huddle together, but with temperatures still remaining high for the time of year, we'll see the bees out and hunting at least this weekend and quite possibly for a while longer yet. Fortunately there's a lot of ivy climbing up the ash trees, which will be providing an important late season supply of forage for the bees.

So let's hope for a normal winter. Not too warm, not too wet, not too cold and not too long. Come to think of it, when's the last time we had a normal winter?

Ash Bark Beetle



Tuesday 30th October 2012
Full moon to the West, rising sun to the East

Three days ago, when it was still British Summertime, the gloves came out, along with my best woolly hat, complete with woolly flaps that go round and under my chin. Give it a couple of months and I'll have acclimatised.
I actually quite like winter. The rawness. The crispness. The instinct to snuggle down in the safety and warmth of the home. The woodburner heats the lounge to toasty warm, while the luxury of the electric blanket awaits up in the bedroom.

On a still day, the smell of wood smoke wafts through the air, somehow warming the heart.

The trees we have planted on the land are not quite yet earning their keep, but long term we will harvest them for wood. Another step towards self-sufficiency.
In the meantime we rely on oil and coal, since mains gas has not reached these here parts. We've bought in some top quality, seasoned oak logs too, but using these is a luxury. Sadly, coal still works out far more economical.
But we do manage to scrounge some wood every now and again. Sue has enjoyed using the electric chainsaw to chop up the Ash which Don gave us earlier in the year. Ash is reputed to be one of the best woods for burning, particularly as it burns pretty well while still 'green'. It coppices well too and we have planted a fair stand of it at the bottom of our land to heat us when we are old. (Actually, by coppicing we should start getting something back in a few years.)
 
So, a couple of days ago, I collected in baskets of wood to store on the hearth ready for the cold winter nights which are upon us. Imagine my horror when I noticed that all of the ash logs were riddled with holes!
I brought some into the house anyway, but by early evening there were little beetles crawling out and venturing across the carpet and up the walls. We carefully obliterated each and every last one, fearful that we had unwittingly just opened the door for woodworm to infest our house. But something was nagging at me. Surely woodworm prefers older wood than this, and why were no holes visible in the core of the wood? And if this happens to logs when they have been stored for just a few months in the stables, then how do people ever use wood as a fuel source without their homes being eaten away?

For a while it seemed that my long term plans for growing wood for fuel were in tatters.
 
However, a quick search of the internet explained everything. This was not woodworm, it was Ash bark beetle. Well, that was a relief.
Still not great, as we don't particularly want armies of tiny beetles crawling out of our firewood every night, but not the disaster we thought it might be. We'll just have to store it near the back door and get it in as we need it.
 
At least the ash seems to be burning as well as people say it does.

There is an old rhyme, almost mandatory to quote when discussing wood as fuel, which goes:

 

Beechwood fires are bright and clear
If the logs are kept a year
Chestnut only good they say
If for long it's laid away
Make a fire of elder tree
Death within your house will be
But ash new or ash old
Is fit for a Queen with a crown of gold

 

Birch and Fir logs burn too fast
Blaze up bright and do not last
It is by the Irish said
Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread
Elmwood burns like churchyard mould
Even the very flames are cold
But ash green or ash brown
Is fit for a Queen with a golden crown

Poplar gives a bitter smoke
Fills your eyes and makes you choke
Apple wood will scent your room
With an incense-like perfume
Oaken logs, if dry and old
Keep away the winters cold
But ash wet or ash dry
A king shall warm his slippers by.

 

Next week I'll try to explain why burning wood is good for the environment.

For now, I'll leave you with today's stunning sunset.

Farewell British Summertime

Sunday 28th October 2012
The sun has moved a long way along the horizon
since last time I saw it rise.
This was the last we saw of it today!

Well, British Summertime is over!
For everybody else that means an extra hour in bed.
But not for me, since nobody remembered to tell the sun to get up an hour later! So, at 6:45 the alarm went off. I was tired, as in the middle of the  night Gerry had woken us up by pulling the curtain off its rail doing some night-time abseiling!

I was in a good mood though, for most unexpectedly I got a LIFER yesterday. At 3:25 in the afternoon I heard about a Hornemann's Arctic Redpoll in the dunes at Holkham, where I had been a couple of days ago. Time was tight so I jumped straight in the car and had a somewhat hair-raising journey into North Norfolk, through hail storms and heavy rain. I pulled up in the car park an hour later, paid the extortionate parking fees and ran / fast walked the mile or so through the pines and dunes to where the bird was hopping around not 6 foot away from a small and appreciative audience. It had probably never seen a human in its life. Less than ten minutres later it hopped over the dune, never to be seen again. Phew! That was a bit tight. Depending on which official list you follow, this was my 514th species in the British Isles.

But that was still (allegedly) British Summertime.
Today it is Greenwich Mean Time - otherwise known as Wintertime. At least I got to see a proper sunrise this morning and I couldn't believe how far our nearest star had crept along the horizon since it was last sighted. I can just about understand and imagine why the sun appears to move along the horizon as the year goes by. But what I can't get my head around is that it reaches a certain point and then heads back the other way.

But before I had any time to further contemplate this I was struck (not literally) by the flocks of Fieldfares and Redwings coming in over the fields, many briefly alighting in the roadside hedge. The redwings tend to dive straight into the berry laden hawthorns, whereas the fieldfares head for the tops of the tall trees to survey their surroundings before descending to feed.
If anything there were even more thrushes than yesterday, flocks up to 200 strong coming in every couple of minutes. The light was much duller as the sun had already finished its brief appearance for the day, but I still spent a damp couple of hours again desperately trying to pick out a ring ouzel.

Much as I am determined to find one, I was quite glad when it was time to head off to the auction to see if there were any bargains to be had. We have a shed coming on Monday and a couple of dog kennels which will be converted for the ducks and geese. We also met a gorgeous Jack Russell pup - one step closer to getting a dog methinks!

From there it was off to Wisbech for the FGSC (Smallholders Club) harvest lunch. Soup, bread and puddings, of course all home made and most delicious. We enjoyed some good company and I managed to narrowly avoid being nominated as Treasurer! Though we do intend to get more involved and to give something back to the club.

Then it was quickly back home in time to feed the pigs and poultry before it got dark, which is now, of course, one hour earlier.

Courgette wine - mark II

Sunday 7th October 2012
Two hours after getting home from Ireland.

Monday 8th October 2012

Tuesday 9th October 2012

Wednesday 10th October 2012
Cold air arrives

Autumn is now most definitely in the air, for today a notable chill arrived and the wind had a bite to it. It's probably really a sign that we are into the middle of Autumn, but I don't want to think about what that means - the ushering in of winter. Actually, winter is a beautiful time of year and we tend to hunker down and snuggle up in front of the fire. It's a time to reflect, to look forward and begin to put plans in action.

Anyway, with the change in seasons the courgettes have finally stopped showering us with their wonderful fruits, but it was very welcome while it lasted and we've got plenty preserved in the form of relishes, frozen griddled slices, fritters, bhajis and soups.
If you remember, we even stooped to trying to make courgette wine with 32lbs of courgettes which came out of the garden in a single day!

Well, that effort went disastrously wrong. Sue used a recipe off the internet which contained no yeast. We're pretty new to brewing our own alcolholic (ed. alcoholic, and no, I've not been at it already!) beverages, so presumed the yeast would come naturally, as it does when we make our cider. There were even questions on the website, unanswered, asking if there was really supposed to be no yeast.
Well, I think I can give the answer...that recipe needed yeast, for all we ended up with was a bucketful of mouldy, cabbagey water.

So, unperturbed, Sue used some of the last overgrown courgettes to have another go, this time following a different recipe (sorry, I don't know where she found it) which did include yeast. And this time, hallelujah, frothy yeast action!
 
I'm still holding judgement on the result and we have to wait a year to find out, but at least it looks more promising.

Next up, pumpkins!!!

The First Harrier

Wednesday 1st February 2012
A change in the weather -

Clear sky and an Easterly breeze.

Winter's First Hen Harrier
We have been promised thick frost and ice for the last three mornings, and each morning it has failed to materialise, at times feeling surprisingly warm, though that could just be because the air has been still and the sky clouded. I'm also a hardened smallholder now, impervious to whatever Mother Nature throws at me!
This morning there was a distinct biting chill in the air. Something felt different. Living in the countryside, you come to notice small differences. When I first moved here, it astonished me how observant the locals were of small changes. Now I'm beginning to notice too. For today the smoke from the chimneys was blowing the wrong way. We had an Easterly - a rare origin for our weather here.
At the moment there lies over Russia a high pressure system which extends east to the Bering Sea and west to the UK - virtually half way round the world. This means the air rushes from the high pressure centre to fill the lower pressure surrounding it. So we have Easterly winds forecast for the next week, which at this time of year always drag cold continental air with them.

With the change of weather, I decided to take the back road to work in the morning. This proved to be a good decision, as over the road right in front of my car floated a majestic female Hen Harrier, the first I have seen round here this winter. Last year they were almost common, but I am realising that the extended cold periods and deep freezes of the 2010-2011 winter brought winter birds to our area which may not reappear for quite some years.

As the Hen Harrier drifted away over the swan field, above it a small raptor was pursueing a small bird vertically into the sky. For over a minute the hunted bird miraculously evaded the Merlin's claws. It's resilience paid off as the falcon eventually darted off.

A little further along, a Shelduck accompanied 150 or so Teal in the dyke by the millenium copse. This is marked by the three tall trees which often feature in my sunrise pictures. The copse houses a meridian obelisk as well as a small shrine to a young local woman who passed away in the recent past.


Cider Vinegar - A Tonic for the Chickens
The first of every month means it's time to give the chickens their dose of cider vinegar. This acts as a general tonic, improving their condition and beneficial to their general health. The chickens love the taste too. I have a big 5L bottle of the stuff, which I mix 10 - 15ml to a litre of water. I find that if I mix enough up, it lasts the chickens all week. When it's bitterly cold or you're rushing off to work, you don't want to be measuring out tablespoons of cider vinegar every morning for a week.

More Signs Of Spring

Sunday 29th January 2012

A thin, icy mist hung in the air as a blood red sun glared between the clouds.

A wafer thin layer of ice and the slightest of frosts betrayed the night's dip below zero.

Spring Is In The Air

Over the course of last week the birds clearly judged that spring was springing. The Great Spotted Woodpecker has been drumming out his territory and a Common Buzzard was seen carrying a beak full of twigs for nest material. This is a very encouraging sign. The spread of these birds into the south and east of the country over the first part of this century has been remarkable.

On the way to school last week I decided to take the back road and was lucky to be able to watch a group of 10 Goosanders, 5 gleaming drakes and 5 greyer females, on South Holland Main Drain just by Coy Bridge. The males were tossing their heads back and generally trying to outdo each other and impress the females. Doubtless trying to secure a mate before their journey back to their breeding grounds. A pair of hares were being romantic in a field too. I must say, hares appear to be sprinters rather than long distance stamina merchants!

As I planted trees on Thursday, I did so to the sight and sound of two singing skylarks, hovering high up in the air, broadcasting their beautiful song and singing out the onset of spring.

Then, yesterday evening, as I was tidying the bed around the honeyberry bushes (well, more a very small collection of twigs), I heard the repeated mournful hoots of the Little Owl, technically a song, designed to attract a mate and warn off any rivals.

And all week, the loud "teacher, teacher, teacher" song of the Great Tit, always the first to anticipate the end of winter and hail the new season.

However, I wouldn't be at all surprised if we still get a taste of winter at its harshest before the spring equinox.