Blackbirds, feathers puffed up against the cold that look to me through the patio doors as I eat my breakfast. "We can't manage the bird feeding hung up and filled with seeds & nuts. We are ground feeders." I put down my spoon, chop apples & tear crusts. I swear they look back in thanks.
I believe they do. When I head out with my seed cups, the birds flock around, chattering to each other. I imagine they're announcing that the seed lady is stocking the feeders again!
I believe they do, too. This week the birds flew away at first while my children played, but when we all stilled as I told them to wait and watch - they returned to the feeders. It was a moment of magic. I am sure your wee blackbirds will remember your gift.
It’s been all about moon gazing for me, on my early morning dog walks I see her, a huge waning crescent “hanging” in the sky, sometimes the brightest glowing white or a magical mystical orange glow, I always greet her with a “ hello beautiful sister moon”, yesterday I braved an allotment visit as the mud was now hard and crunchy underfoot and was overjoyed to see the little green garlic shoots poking through the earth, I don’t know why I’m always surprised to see that they are actually growing for me, but yay! for a new growing season, I have a small woodland close to home here in West Sussex that is my happy place and I can easily lose time wandering here, yesterday I spotted a buzzard high in a tree and then it spotted me and glided beautifully away through the trees looking for another perch, simple but much needed pleasures this week. 💚
It’s been all about the night for me this week, a spell stargazing in the back garden, a walk through a dark park with stars twinkling through the naked tree branches. A winter tree identification course at Arnos Vale cemetery in Bristol, with a delicious hot coffee afterwards. So much can be gleaned from observing bark and buds. Saturday morning at the allotment tidying the shed and harvesting the last of the parsnips whilst a Robin forages in the leaves.
Oh I have also been wandering around trying to identify trees by their buds and bark and fallen leaves. It’s sort of lovely and less overwhelming than when everything is in leaf and bloom. You really have to zero in on the small details and become a tree detective! My mum and I were puzzling over an oak-type tree with hairy buds yesterday... couldn’t work out what it was.
This sounds so lovely. A winter tree identification course! I'll have to look out for something like that here in Virginia. You're right - winter has so much to offer in regards to learning. I lived in the UK for a time and miss the Robin friends in my garden.
Mine this week are very special as I have had a few days off and so was able to indulge myself in seasonal activities. First is a starling murmuration at nearby Ham Wall Nature reserve (down on the Somerset Levels)- the achingly beautiful sight of hundreds of thousands of starlings dancing together under a clear orange and pink sky. We waited and waited for them, and they kept us holding our breath until it was nearly dusk. But then they came, and suddenly the whole sky was filled with birds, everywhere you turned your head. Nobody prepared me for the sound - what 600,000 wings moving together sounded like (it sounds like hushed magic), which undoubtedly was the best part. And then at the end, like an invisible hand had pushed them down, they dropped as a single undulating, black carpet into the reedbed. It was one of those experiences that makes you feel glad, oh so glad, to be alive even if you know your existence is overall relatively small and unimportant. The second is making Seville Orange Marmalade (eleven jars!) using my late Grandmothers recipe, which she has done every year before this one, a tradition I now plan to carry on. I recommend it - it is sticky and little labour intensive, but so worth it. The house fills with a gorgeous bittersweet citrus smell and then you have pure sunshine caught in a jar. My last is a nighttime swim in an outdoor pool which was chilly, but the air was so much colder that the water that it gently steamed. It was just me and one other lone swimmer making gentle ripples in the pool, occasionally smiling at eachother. Then getting run back to the warm sauna! I know this is super long so thank you to anyone who has reached the bottom! I will put some pictures up of the murmuration on Sunday in the chat if anyone would like to see them x
This is such a special week! I think your idea to continue your grandmother's tradition is really beautiful, and can't wait to see your pics on Sunday!
I love it when the natural world reminds me that I’m small and unimportant - it takes the pressure off. The marmalade sounds gorgeous. Any chance of the recipe? I made Seville orange gin last year. And yes, please post some photos!
What beautiful scenes! I find it interesting that starlings can bring you such joy... they are invasive species here in the US, and act like black-leather-jacket-wearing thugs at the feeders.
Isnt that interesting, yes here they are very loved, and one of our natural spectacles. I suppose the difference being that they are a natural part of our ecosystem here so dont cause damage.
How wonderful to witness something like that. It's a dream of mine! I can't wait to see the photographs. I've never had orange marmalade, though we often read stories about Paddington and I've been very curious!
I welcomed the return of cold, frosty mornings and dark clear nights. I've had my binoculars out for stargazing, looking at the Pleiades high overhead; The Beehive Cluster in Cancer: and Mars blazing red near Taurus. A beautiful golden crescent moon two hours before dawn on Wednesday morning, hanging like a pair of horns in the sky. A skitterimg of snow with the promise of more unfulfilled. Squirrels chasing each other in the back garden amongst the frozen trees and grass. Stews and casseroles to warm our souls.
How wonderful. I live on the outskirts of a city so have a lot of light pollution but it’s been magnificent to see the Pleiades with the naked eye and see Gemini.
This reads like a warm blanket. You're inspiring me to learn more about what I notice above! "A skittering of snow with the promise of more unfulfilled" - lovely. And yes, stews and soups and casseroles are indeed a hug for the belly and soul alike.
Snow settling on our patch of the coast in north-west Cornwall for the first time in five years, just as some signs of spring were emerging: a clump of daffodils outside a neighbour’s house and the early birds tuning up for the dawn chorus.
Enjoying the cold clear skies and frosty nights and doing some star gazing with my four year old daughter on the way home. Spotting Jupiter and Mars feels so magical as we stand in our street.
the frost! It sat on my car windscreen like those 6 pointed snowflakes a child would draw, each one exquisitely different; the stars so bright with no moon; and the day lilies daring to send up their first leaves in my Gloucestershire garden.
When I lived in Seattle, we enjoyed a phenomenon called "frost fog," in which the fog would create elaborate crystals of frost on delicate objects, like spider webs. Do you have that where you are?
That sounds so beautiful. I have seen the spiders' webs turn white but not noticed the frost crystals on then, I will look more closely, today would be a good day for that, it's all white again here.
Smiling on memories of the Wassail the banging of pans the worship of toast and the cider bathing the tree roots -the spirits banished and the light let in as we approach Imbolc and Spring. The orchard bare limbed but the clouties fluttering as we said goodbye -until next year then👏🔥
ah fabulous. I missed our local community orchard wassail, kicking myself! If you have any pictures please do post them in the Sunday chat, I'd love to see.
Ah each Sunday we have a gathering on the ‘chat’ feature, and people can post their pictures there very easily. You have to have the substack app to access it. If you go back a few posts there is a post containing all the info you need. If you fancy it!
We've been clearing a massive mound of Brambles with some old Willows amongst them. I love Brambles but sometimes they are in the wrong place and need to be cleared. More about Brambles another time. My observation comes from the wonderful leaf mouldy earth that we found in the centre of the Bramble clump. The accumulation of a couple of decades of leaves, nests, twiggery and bird poop has created a wonderful material perfect for the germination of seeds... what is more, outside the clump the ground was solid as a frosty rock, inside no frost. We started thinking about the well known saying 'the bramble is mother of the Oak' and realised that not only does the bramble or briar protect young Oaklings from browsing but it also offers a perfect seedbed for germination and nutrients. No wonder a young Oak tree in our Bramble clump was so vigorous and healthy, much more so that one growing out in the surrounding grass.
There are variations on the saying but the principle remains the same - Isabella Tree refers to the saying in her book 'WIlding'. It is a very important mechanism in the development of tree cover.
PS. I'll get the hang of this substack thing in time... my old brain is a bit slow
Here in Brum it has been a cold frosty week. I walked the dog at 7a.m., along the pavement which was twinkling like a disco dancefloor! Her ears, which stick upright, were dancing along. Later on the same walk I was surrounded by song thrushes in my favourite park. Love a dawn walk 🥰
My turn, in our house, to be ill this week so my seasonal spots are indoors as I have been unable to get out. The Amaryllis on the table reaches up to the ceiling and it must be ready to burst into flower soon. The ash lies in the grate from last night's fire required by the cold snap and the double strength Amoxicillin sits beside my bed, a patient nurse waiting to do its job.
Oh Dawn you've had such a tough start to the year! Thanks for finding these seasonal things for us among it all, and yes, I wish you amoxicillin as fleeting as a Bristol snowfall x
Today when I finished work at 5pm it was actually light (the joy of a sunny day and living in the West Country). The deep darkness of winter really doesn’t last all that long.
Yes! I go to visit my nana twice a week, always 5-6pm and last night was the first time it was light on arrival. It really is quite brief really. Phew...
Positioning seats in the house so I can catch the sunrises and sunsets; fresh walks around the field with my dog under bright skies, earth frozen underfoot; pausing briefly under clear night skies to witness the cosmos
Blackbirds, feathers puffed up against the cold that look to me through the patio doors as I eat my breakfast. "We can't manage the bird feeding hung up and filled with seeds & nuts. We are ground feeders." I put down my spoon, chop apples & tear crusts. I swear they look back in thanks.
Beautiful. I bet they are very grateful indeed right now.
I believe they do. When I head out with my seed cups, the birds flock around, chattering to each other. I imagine they're announcing that the seed lady is stocking the feeders again!
I believe they do, too. This week the birds flew away at first while my children played, but when we all stilled as I told them to wait and watch - they returned to the feeders. It was a moment of magic. I am sure your wee blackbirds will remember your gift.
Building precious memories with your children and helping them learn the value of nature. I love watching the birds with my grandchildren on my knee.
It’s been all about moon gazing for me, on my early morning dog walks I see her, a huge waning crescent “hanging” in the sky, sometimes the brightest glowing white or a magical mystical orange glow, I always greet her with a “ hello beautiful sister moon”, yesterday I braved an allotment visit as the mud was now hard and crunchy underfoot and was overjoyed to see the little green garlic shoots poking through the earth, I don’t know why I’m always surprised to see that they are actually growing for me, but yay! for a new growing season, I have a small woodland close to home here in West Sussex that is my happy place and I can easily lose time wandering here, yesterday I spotted a buzzard high in a tree and then it spotted me and glided beautifully away through the trees looking for another perch, simple but much needed pleasures this week. 💚
lovely to greet the moon. I try to do it with the sun too.
Garlic rarely disappoints.
It’s been all about the night for me this week, a spell stargazing in the back garden, a walk through a dark park with stars twinkling through the naked tree branches. A winter tree identification course at Arnos Vale cemetery in Bristol, with a delicious hot coffee afterwards. So much can be gleaned from observing bark and buds. Saturday morning at the allotment tidying the shed and harvesting the last of the parsnips whilst a Robin forages in the leaves.
I love knowing winter trees, it's like being given a secret password.
Oh I have also been wandering around trying to identify trees by their buds and bark and fallen leaves. It’s sort of lovely and less overwhelming than when everything is in leaf and bloom. You really have to zero in on the small details and become a tree detective! My mum and I were puzzling over an oak-type tree with hairy buds yesterday... couldn’t work out what it was.
Ella, iNaturalist can be helpful for moments like that.
I just took a native-plants-for-shade course. Winter is a great time to work the mind when the hands are idle.
This sounds so lovely. A winter tree identification course! I'll have to look out for something like that here in Virginia. You're right - winter has so much to offer in regards to learning. I lived in the UK for a time and miss the Robin friends in my garden.
Mine this week are very special as I have had a few days off and so was able to indulge myself in seasonal activities. First is a starling murmuration at nearby Ham Wall Nature reserve (down on the Somerset Levels)- the achingly beautiful sight of hundreds of thousands of starlings dancing together under a clear orange and pink sky. We waited and waited for them, and they kept us holding our breath until it was nearly dusk. But then they came, and suddenly the whole sky was filled with birds, everywhere you turned your head. Nobody prepared me for the sound - what 600,000 wings moving together sounded like (it sounds like hushed magic), which undoubtedly was the best part. And then at the end, like an invisible hand had pushed them down, they dropped as a single undulating, black carpet into the reedbed. It was one of those experiences that makes you feel glad, oh so glad, to be alive even if you know your existence is overall relatively small and unimportant. The second is making Seville Orange Marmalade (eleven jars!) using my late Grandmothers recipe, which she has done every year before this one, a tradition I now plan to carry on. I recommend it - it is sticky and little labour intensive, but so worth it. The house fills with a gorgeous bittersweet citrus smell and then you have pure sunshine caught in a jar. My last is a nighttime swim in an outdoor pool which was chilly, but the air was so much colder that the water that it gently steamed. It was just me and one other lone swimmer making gentle ripples in the pool, occasionally smiling at eachother. Then getting run back to the warm sauna! I know this is super long so thank you to anyone who has reached the bottom! I will put some pictures up of the murmuration on Sunday in the chat if anyone would like to see them x
This is such a special week! I think your idea to continue your grandmother's tradition is really beautiful, and can't wait to see your pics on Sunday!
I love it when the natural world reminds me that I’m small and unimportant - it takes the pressure off. The marmalade sounds gorgeous. Any chance of the recipe? I made Seville orange gin last year. And yes, please post some photos!
Of course you can have the recipe 😊 I will post pictures of it along with the murmuration on Sunday x
What beautiful scenes! I find it interesting that starlings can bring you such joy... they are invasive species here in the US, and act like black-leather-jacket-wearing thugs at the feeders.
Isnt that interesting, yes here they are very loved, and one of our natural spectacles. I suppose the difference being that they are a natural part of our ecosystem here so dont cause damage.
Yep, they were introduced here by an Englishman who missed them from back home, but here they are a nuisance.
How wonderful to witness something like that. It's a dream of mine! I can't wait to see the photographs. I've never had orange marmalade, though we often read stories about Paddington and I've been very curious!
I welcomed the return of cold, frosty mornings and dark clear nights. I've had my binoculars out for stargazing, looking at the Pleiades high overhead; The Beehive Cluster in Cancer: and Mars blazing red near Taurus. A beautiful golden crescent moon two hours before dawn on Wednesday morning, hanging like a pair of horns in the sky. A skitterimg of snow with the promise of more unfulfilled. Squirrels chasing each other in the back garden amongst the frozen trees and grass. Stews and casseroles to warm our souls.
I’m new to being able to identify stars and planets, but it gives me such joy! Was very proud of myself for identifying the Pleiades.
How wonderful. I live on the outskirts of a city so have a lot of light pollution but it’s been magnificent to see the Pleiades with the naked eye and see Gemini.
ah you always write so beautifully about your week Lee. Glorious bit of star spotting.
Love the juxtaposition of the frozen world outside and the cozy warmth inside.
Ah gosh me too Lisa
This reads like a warm blanket. You're inspiring me to learn more about what I notice above! "A skittering of snow with the promise of more unfulfilled" - lovely. And yes, stews and soups and casseroles are indeed a hug for the belly and soul alike.
Snow settling on our patch of the coast in north-west Cornwall for the first time in five years, just as some signs of spring were emerging: a clump of daffodils outside a neighbour’s house and the early birds tuning up for the dawn chorus.
I saw photos of the snow in Cornwall! Very jealous as here in Sussex we didn't get any but I know it is such a rare occurrence in Cornwall.
Yes, particularly here on the coast. When the sea foam blows in we call it Cornish snow!
We won’t see daffodils here in the midwestern US until March.
Amazing, such an unusual thing. Must be cold...
What a sight - daffodils amidst the sea and snow.
Enjoying the cold clear skies and frosty nights and doing some star gazing with my four year old daughter on the way home. Spotting Jupiter and Mars feels so magical as we stand in our street.
Doesnt it! How lovely.
Beautiful. I love star gazing with my daughter at this time of year. It is wonderous!
I love this. Identification of the night sky is something I wish to learn more of, especially for the treasured walks I take with my children.
Seeing the universe through a child's eyes can be magical.
the frost! It sat on my car windscreen like those 6 pointed snowflakes a child would draw, each one exquisitely different; the stars so bright with no moon; and the day lilies daring to send up their first leaves in my Gloucestershire garden.
Gorgeous. Scared for those new shoots!
I know...I'll keep you posted.... They are right next to the house so may be safe
When I lived in Seattle, we enjoyed a phenomenon called "frost fog," in which the fog would create elaborate crystals of frost on delicate objects, like spider webs. Do you have that where you are?
That sounds so beautiful. I have seen the spiders' webs turn white but not noticed the frost crystals on then, I will look more closely, today would be a good day for that, it's all white again here.
I drove the long way home yesterday just to get an almost panoramic view of the sunset lighting up the clouds all around me like sky lanterns.
oh wow, wonderful image. Worth it by the sound of it.
Beautiful!
Smiling on memories of the Wassail the banging of pans the worship of toast and the cider bathing the tree roots -the spirits banished and the light let in as we approach Imbolc and Spring. The orchard bare limbed but the clouties fluttering as we said goodbye -until next year then👏🔥
ah fabulous. I missed our local community orchard wassail, kicking myself! If you have any pictures please do post them in the Sunday chat, I'd love to see.
I do have photos not sure how /where to post can email ?
Ah each Sunday we have a gathering on the ‘chat’ feature, and people can post their pictures there very easily. You have to have the substack app to access it. If you go back a few posts there is a post containing all the info you need. If you fancy it!
We've been clearing a massive mound of Brambles with some old Willows amongst them. I love Brambles but sometimes they are in the wrong place and need to be cleared. More about Brambles another time. My observation comes from the wonderful leaf mouldy earth that we found in the centre of the Bramble clump. The accumulation of a couple of decades of leaves, nests, twiggery and bird poop has created a wonderful material perfect for the germination of seeds... what is more, outside the clump the ground was solid as a frosty rock, inside no frost. We started thinking about the well known saying 'the bramble is mother of the Oak' and realised that not only does the bramble or briar protect young Oaklings from browsing but it also offers a perfect seedbed for germination and nutrients. No wonder a young Oak tree in our Bramble clump was so vigorous and healthy, much more so that one growing out in the surrounding grass.
I have never heard that saying but wow what a great one to learn
This is wonderful, what a story. I too have never heard that expression, thank you.
There are variations on the saying but the principle remains the same - Isabella Tree refers to the saying in her book 'WIlding'. It is a very important mechanism in the development of tree cover.
PS. I'll get the hang of this substack thing in time... my old brain is a bit slow
Here in Brum it has been a cold frosty week. I walked the dog at 7a.m., along the pavement which was twinkling like a disco dancefloor! Her ears, which stick upright, were dancing along. Later on the same walk I was surrounded by song thrushes in my favourite park. Love a dawn walk 🥰
disco dancefloor is right! And then whenever I try to take a picture of that or even a video...nothing...for eyes only, I think.
My turn, in our house, to be ill this week so my seasonal spots are indoors as I have been unable to get out. The Amaryllis on the table reaches up to the ceiling and it must be ready to burst into flower soon. The ash lies in the grate from last night's fire required by the cold snap and the double strength Amoxicillin sits beside my bed, a patient nurse waiting to do its job.
Oh Dawn you've had such a tough start to the year! Thanks for finding these seasonal things for us among it all, and yes, I wish you amoxicillin as fleeting as a Bristol snowfall x
Thank you, Lia and thank you for reminding me to look for them. x
The low evening winter sun illuminating the the lower trunks of the trees in the forest with a golden hue.
Beautiful
Today when I finished work at 5pm it was actually light (the joy of a sunny day and living in the West Country). The deep darkness of winter really doesn’t last all that long.
Yes! I go to visit my nana twice a week, always 5-6pm and last night was the first time it was light on arrival. It really is quite brief really. Phew...
Positioning seats in the house so I can catch the sunrises and sunsets; fresh walks around the field with my dog under bright skies, earth frozen underfoot; pausing briefly under clear night skies to witness the cosmos
Beautiful, and such a good idea, a great time of year for sunrises and sunsets
Ps thank you Lia! Writing from Perthshire
Ha, ha, that makes you heliotropic!
ha ha lovely
Oh and a flock of long tailed tits stopping by to delight us on the feeder