A March gale in The Wild Wood

I usually have to explain that The Wild Wood (the pocket of land on the edge of our garden with a few trees on it) is neither a wood nor wild . . . but today it's very wild!

Most of yesterday is rained – very welcome rain in this the driest part of the dry south-east of England; then it snowed! and the wind got up . . . it's now blowing like billy-o (whatever that means).

Apparently it's gusting to 44mph, which in Shipping Forecast terms is a Fresh Gale 8; the definition of which is:

"Twigs and small branches
are broken from trees,
walking is difficult."

And as I've just come inside after a short walk to the post box and around the church yard, I can assure you they're bang on . . . in fact it underplays things as tad, as a whole tree has crashed down in the garden behind the post box.

We've already had a short power cut; and as I'm busy working on a large number of digital illustrations for a publisher, that wasn't a relaxing moment! Luckily not too much work was lost and the power is back on again. So, let the wind blow and the rain fall! This is a good week to be tied to the computer . . . that's as long as the power stays on . . . fingers crossed!


Celia
x

Wake up!

Did you notice? The switch was thrown today and flowers opened, ladybirds and bees appeared, the air felt ever so slightly warm, the sun shone and birds sang.

There have been hints of spring, the occasional sunny day, winter aconites and snowdrops, a robin singing; with a chill wind blowing that wasn't proper spring . . . but this is!

Ladybirds are everywhere!
Crawling out from the crevices they've
hidden in over the long cold months.

The feral honey bees that took up residence
in our next door neighbour's high chimney
woke up today and buzzed around in a cloud
before finding flowers to feed in.

Last year I made some videos in The Wild Wood (our small patch of woodland that is our window onto the outside world) today I thought I do another film to record The Wild Wood waking up on the first proper spring day of 2011.

Tarragon is so busy supervising his little flock!
The under-gardeners and Spice Girls are
all laying again after their winter break.
There were four eggs in the nest today :-)


Celia
x

On the edge of The Wild Wood

A few weeks ago I noticed some unusual leaves unfurling in The Wild Wood. The plant grew bigger and bigger, buds appeared near the top, this week delicate custard yellow flowers opened . . .

The plant is Greater Celandine (Chelidonium majus), readers in North American may know it by the old English name the first settlers brought with them: Swallow Wort. Confusingly Greater Celandine is in no way related to the Lesser Celandine (Ranunculus ficaria) which flowers much earlier in the year and is a member of the Buttercup family and has small narrow shiny golden petals like this . . .


Look closely and you can see that the Greater Celandine is in fact a kind of wild poppy, and like other poppies it has a sticky poisonous sap in its stems. The sap of the Greater Celandine is yellowy orange and is very toxic – in fact it burns! So best to look and not touch! In the past it was used to burn away warts and rather alarmingly for burning away cataracts from the eye! It is associated with old walls and stony pathsides in places that have been inhabited for centuries – maybe a relic from an ancient physic garden.


Yesterday lunchtime I took my lunch over to the opposite bank of the stream behind our Wild Wood and sat in the corner of the field beyond, there is a wide uncultivated field margin which hopefully helps biodiversity and the local wildlife.

As I wandered through the garden on my way to The Wild Wood I'd picked herbs and salad leaves a and added them to my lunch – you can't get a much fresher salad . . .


It wasn't long before the ginger studio assistant sniffed out the aroma of paté and tracked me down!

"Have you left some for me?!"

Sing a song of Spring

"During 2010 I will record the seasons as I take time out to eat my lunch and read inspiring books as I sit on the seat made from Yew branches, overlooking the neighbouring farmland."

I have to confess to failing to keep to the plan since Easter, partly because I've been working hard to fulfill illustration deadlines and partly because there has been a bitingly chill wind blowing. The large part of our garden is within a high brick wall, originally a vegetable garden for an eighteenth century squire with grand designs, we can now appreciate his sensible construction. The sky may be blue, the sun may be shining, but outside the wall in The Wild Wood the wind chills the bones and sitting on the rustic bench (even wearing warm clothes) is not much fun.

Today the wind has dropped a little, during a break in the clouds I nipped out to The Wild Wood to update my record of the journey through the year . . .

The wild 'Cherry Plum' prunus cerasifera, is covered with white blossom. Plums seem to benefit from a period of cold weather before they break the winter dormancy, the coldest winter for more than thirty years has preceded a stunning burst of blossom. Fingers crossed for warmth and sun to bring out the pollinating insects.


The woodland floor is greening up – here is Dog's Mercury mercurialis perennis, in Suffolk it's presence in hedge bottoms and on road verges indicates the sites of ancient woodland. A botanical thread linking The Wild Wood with a wilder past.


But stand a while and listen . . . Spring has come to The Wild Wood in the chorus of birdsong. Listen carefully, some of you may be clever enough to identify the different bird species. About 11 seconds in, see if you can hear the Tawny Owl hoot – unusual to hear at mid-day but maybe he has young to feed?

I was being watched

Blue sky and warm sunshine, today The Wild Wood felt alive with potential growth. The tabby studio assistant sat bathed in warm rays and I settled down to eat my lunch and read about Rooks in Roger Deakin's book 'Wildwood'.


I was engrossed in my reading, but a sense that I was being watched came over me, I glanced down at the tabby one – she was alert to someone or something in the field on the opposite side of the stream.

A little Muntjac deer was watching us intently, amazingly he came closer and sniffed the air – maybe he could smell my lunch of warmed risotto with parmesan and watercress? I wonder if he'll be a regular lunchtime visitor?

In touch with The Wild Wood

As I familiarise myself with the landscape around the place I live, I've realised that there is wildness in the most benign landscape. No English landscape is virgin forest or a desert untouched by human feet – it is molded by generations of lives lived on the land, but that doesn't mean that the untamed doesn't exist.

I've set myself a project to get to know one small area of land, our tiny plot that we acquired last Easter. Whenever I can, I plan to eat my lunch sitting on the seat in The Wild Wood, and while I eat I'll read and think . . .

A meditation in The Wild Wood, 17 February 2010

A brook and a small tributary stream run along two sides and meet at one corner. There are Yew trees and an Ash. The soil and Ivy hide broken lumps of what was probably a furnace, maybe from the Old Forge which once stood on the opposite side of the brook. We have made beetle banks and a log pile half submerged in the ground. Cliff constructed a seat from Yew branches, which is bathed in warm sunshine at midday. Spring is starting to wake up The Wild Wood.

Today I read the introduction and first chapter of Wildwood – a journey through trees by the late Roger Deakin, who loved and was inspired by the Suffolk countryside.

"To enter a wood is to pass into a different world
in which we ourselves are transformed."

Lunchtime in The Wild Wood

It's mild and a tiny bit sunny today – no excuses – I could spend my lunchtime in the garden. Of course the under-gardeners came along to help.

For those new to my blog I'll explain . . . the under-gardeners were originally four Marans hybrid hens, sadly Dawn is no longer alive and they were eventually joined by three Araucana x Legbar hens – The Spice Girls. Just after Christmas we gave a home to Tarragon, a young Lavender Araucana cockerel. So these are my seven 'under-gardeners' – they help (specialising in compost turning and pest control) and get under my feet when I'm gardening – I say 'seven' but in fact Tarragon's role is usually supervisory.

My gardening project today was to relocate some Snowdrops I'd put into pots last autumn when I dug out a very congested border. Some of the little clumps of snowdrops are in bud, so I thought I'd plant them in The Wild Wood where there are already some Snowdrops and Winter Aconites appearing among the rubble of what was probably an old furnace.

Of course Tarragon and his team of lady-gardeners found lots to do . . .

. . . and because he's a boy he had to shout about it!

Scene change

summer•shorts no:13

The view from The Wild Wood was transformed from summer to early autumn this week. The dust in the air and rumble of the combine harvester signalled the end of summer – a quick scene change this year as the 24/7 mechanical munching endeavours to out-smart the weather.

Now the scuffle and thud of the baler, leaving the field dotted with rectangular blocks of straw. Soon a new back-drop will fill the view from The Wild Wood – brown earth furrows, spiky skeletal trees and hedgerows and dark birds against the sky.

Dappled sunlight and shadows

Today I took my paints to The Wild Wood; Cliff has constructed a rustic bench from yew branches, the seat is a flat plank of wood – it looks too pale, too plain, it needs something more.


Of course the senior under-gardeners and the Spice Girls asked to come too – they love The Wild Wood, natural fossicking terrain for would-be 'jungle fowl'.


They found plenty to do in the pile of leaf mould; I did a tail count from time to time – they know of a way to get to the vegetable garden from The Wild Wood!


I didn't have a plan before I started painting the seat, but the dappled sunlight and shadows of the yew leaves gave me an idea – I'd record the moment and the light and shadow would mix with the leaves and golden sunlight I was painting . . .



As the paint fades over time I'll paint more shadows and sun dapples – layer on layer, dappled sunlight and shadows.

Through the new green gate

Continuing the garden tour . . .

Follow the hen through the hazel arch and around the dragonfly pond and what's this?!!!

A new green gate! That wasn't there before!


Over the past few weeks Cliff has been working very hard constructing a new fence and this new gate. It's all part of our exciting new garden project which started way back in August 2008 – in fact it was a couple of days after I came home from hospital after a serious operation. Since we moved here 10 years ago, I had always dreamed of extending the end of the garden to the field boundary the other side of a small wooded area; and then one afternoon we had one of those 'we could do it now or never' opportunities – we asked if we could buy the land and the owner said yes! Hurrah! well we then had to wait for all the paperwork and legal stuff to happen, which it did (but very, very slowly – so slowly that I postponed being excited). And now we are owners of . . .

THE WILD WOOD

As you can see it's not very big or particularly wild – but we have plans :-)

And we now have a view from our garden, out over the fields . . .


We also have 'stuff' buried in the ground – lots and lots of broken pieces of something which was very big and curved and got very, very hot. So hot that some of the bricks melted!


One piece has part of an inscription on it . . .


I think the last part may have read STOURBRIDGE, a town which was the main source of clay for fire bricks and kilns.

So what was it? Any ideas?

We have a two possible theories . . .

• It was the brick kiln used to make all the bricks for our garden wall. But that was over 250 years ago. Does it look that old?

• It was a furnace of some kind used by the local forge which was located on the opposite bank of the brook which runs alongside the land.

Any ideas?