28 February 2021 in the garden

Holey crocus

Lichen on a rotting spruce stump

Forgsoawn at last!

Hazel catkins

Toad thinks the nibblers might be beetles

Polytrichum/Haircap moss sp on rotting spruce

 

Snowdrops 2021

 The first snowdrops of 2021 have appeared on the Boggy Brae. They are under an azalea on the steep, northeast-facing front bank and it is this group that appear first every year.

The Tamarisk moss through which this one is growing is looking good too

On the southeast-facing part of the bank, there is a primrose plant that has not stopped flowering since last spring. Near it some others are looking promising.

Sea fog

 This blog has been on hold for a while after Toad's macbook died, using the imac in the home office was just too uncomfortable – heights of working, of seats, of arthritic aches that are unaccommodating, and anyway the photos app isn't working properly for shifting iphone photos to the blog interface. Oh, and the Blogger app on an iPad was a nightmare to use. Now, though, I have my own macbook so I thought I'd start blogging again.

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When I looked out of Toad's working from home office (formerly Toadlet's bedroom; it has a good desk) window this morning before it was light, I was struck by the appearance of the light at Rhu Point. It looked like a broad, vertical, red beam which subtly changed to yellowish and then back to red. I haven't seen it like that before. Perhaps it has been recently updated. A little while later it had vanished in a thick bank of fog, which then enveloped the channel marker buoys as it rolled up the loch. As I write a ship's fog horn is blaring a warning note at regular intervals.

Sun is forecast for this afternoon but the fog will keep the temperature down meantime.

Fog over the field; it's thicker over the loch

Yesterday managed a bit more colour. It's amazing how much winter colour there is when you look closely. Raises the spirits. As does faffing around with scraps of colourful fabric in the warmth of the house.

Snow on old fern fronds

Trees across the lane

A mossy mound, shaded and sunny sides

Bit of fabric faffing

As I finish this the sun is making an effort to break through the fog ☀️

Rescued peonies and a bike ride

I went out in my PJ’s and wellies to rescue the rain bombed peonies. The midges were out in force. If I did any gardening later, I thought, it would be full midge jacket and Little She Bear's homemade midge repellent on the only bit of exposed skin, my hands.
Homemade midge repellent made from bog myrtle leaves (picked up the hill), vegetable oil and tree resin. It’s good.

After I'd done the grocery shopping, Toad and I went for another cycle ride on the Loch Long side of the peninsula. It was good to see quite a few sailboats out, including a couple with black sails. Pirates, Toad said. 😉

I stopped on an uphill bit. This was above me.

Sweepings

A barrow of driveway sweepings. Food for peonies, which are doing well this year with eleven flower buds. In former years the maximum has been three and sometimes none at all.

Freeing violets

 It has been a pleasant afternoon with no rain and a lessened wind force. I have been freeing violets from the oppression of tough grasses and a cotoneaster. The violets seeded themselves into the cracks and crevices of the steps leading up to the shed. This year they did not flower very well.









Happily, this afternoon, I discovered that they had been spreading themselves near young ferns and under the cotoneaster to the side of the steps. Perhaps there were more flowers than I realised, or perhaps the few flowers I saw were champion seed pingers. Whichever it was, I'm hoping for a violetty spring.



Before I came in for tea and biscuits I looked for daffodil and snowdrop leaves poking out of the ground. I usually see some during December but not this year.

Mellow yellow sallow

Looking up from my holly lopping the other day I was struck by the beauty of yellowing sallow leaves. Sallow can be a bit of a nuisance in a garden and it's not very good for firewood so I try to keep it in some kind of check. If the spreading branches of this plant come any lower (see pic below) I'll probably lop them. I've removed some already, those that I bumped my head against once too often.

Left to itself I think a good deal of Boggy Brae, especially the lowest, boggiest parts, would probably become sallow carr. Where my childhood family first lived on the Fylde was willow carr, called Oldfield Carr. I didn't appreciate the name's meaning at the time but thinking back I do remember some huge willows that we climbed and, where big branches looped low and up again, they were our rocking horses.

For those who are new to the Boggy Brae garden, the thing with the white rubble sack over it is an archery target boss. The bit of shed to the left is the old goose house, now being used as a small woodshed. Up near the top right corner those familiar with the Sentinel Tree that lives up the hill may be able to make out its photobombing antics.

The holly lopping mentioned above was to give a young oak more space and light. It has survived, with a little help from chicken wire judiciously applied, having its young bark nibbled by roe deer so now I reckon it's raring to go. There are several other self-planted tiny oak trees in the garden too—two years ago was a rich oak mast year. I'm willing them on where there's space for them but have had to pull out a couple of dozen that sowed themselves too near the house.

A line of golden setae

The sun was sinking as the smoke from my small bonfire drifted up the garden and its rays shone through the  bright setae of the moss growing on the trunk of the fallen wild cherry tree.

It was high winds one night in December 2013 that brought the old wild cherry tree down. We knew it was affected by the parasitic fungus, Laetiporus sulphureu (Chicken of the woods), so its collapse was not totally surprising. One of its offspring is still holding part of it up. The same storm also brought down a tall eucalyptus which added some interest to the climbing frame.

Some of the eucalyptus wood is still in the woodshed. It burns well in the stove. Some day I might shuffle up the old cherry trunk and start sawing branches....

Small garden things

I've been pulling New Zealand Willowherb (Epilobium brunnescens) off the holding wall at the back of the back terrace. I like its tininess and its flowers but it is rather invasive and I wanted to check the hornwort that was also growing there was still around. This meant pulling off quite a lot of ferns as well. (It also meant I got black fingernails which needed well scrubbed!) The ferns are well rooted so they'll grow back. Ferns need no encouragement on Boggy Brae. They are some of the boss plants!

Having taken the camera out to photograph the hornwort (I think it is Field Hornwort/Antheros agrestis), I wandered about looking at other small things, including the very ferny-looking moss, Hart's-tongue Thyme-moss (Plagiomnium undulatum).

Field Hornwort in its mossy and liverworty

environment

Hart's-tongue Thyme-moss

Broad-leaved Willowherb
growing through ferns

Enchanter's Nightshade.
I think we actually have the hybrid,
Upland Enchanter's Nightshade

From a patch, one of many, that I have left to grow wild, I pulled up seven or eight downy birch seedlings. On the underside of a leaf of one of them was this intriguing blueish ball. Then a spider came charging up the tiny tree and went into guard the ball mode so I'm guessing this is a spider egg sac. I put the wee tree and the titchy, probably very annoyed spider in among the ferny undergrowth to recover from the assault. 😬

Scale to a five pence coin

Loving the exquisite tininess of what I think is Wall Speedwell (Veronica arvensis) in the morning shadow of the Den Rose wall. That is a 5p coin for scale. In the third photo there are four little shoots.

Other tinies this morning include my first spotting this year of Cornsalad (Valerianella locusta) and today's favourite daisy. Also an old and tiny 'maggleflying glass' (infant Toadlet word) that I found at my mother's house recently while sorting out its hoard of parent and grandparent belongings–more on that in another post anon.

Valerianella locusta

The little magnifier has lost one lens and needs to have all that clart cleaned off it

but the remaining lens works well.