The trumpet of a prophecy, Oh Wind,
If Winter Comes can Spring be far behind?
As I sit and key these words, the skies are grey, the wind rattles the window and the snow is proceeding horizontally rather than vertically. The daffodils, already well up are struggling to poke through the snow. The weather forecaster tells me that we are in for a few more days of the same. Last week’s spring lulled us into a false security and has been overtaken by winter with a vengeance. However all is not lost and our three environmental experts Senior Ranger Fiona Mathieson, Head Gardener Diana Robertson, and the Country Loon have some interesting insights into the countryside environment around us.
Last edition, I was bemoaning the lack of civic pride as seen by the amount of litter along our paths. Three people actually phoned to volunteer for a clean up party, and even better I came across two senior citizens quietly picking up litter on the way to Park Shop. Well done to all of you. The last bit of tidy up will be the east bound bus stop once the snow has cleared.
A plea to the teenagers (and their parents). The Youth Project is still on the cards as you can see later on in this newsletter. The project is still financially fragile, and the more money the youth of the community can raise, the easier it will be to secure further grants. However to date few of the young people have come forward to help.
A similar plea comes from the Drumoak Hall Committee. Due to the lack of support they are thinking of closing the hall and handing it back to Aberdeenshire Council.
Editor
Ranger Observations
Springtime Business
Far from our prying eyes the local wildlife is busy preparing for the hard work of raising families. Here is a taste of what’s going on beneath our feet and above our heads!
Badger cubs are born underground at the end of February. Usually there are two or three cubs in each litter. Special underground chambers act as a nursery for the cubs until they are eight weeks old. The nursery is kept meticulously clean by Mum who ensures that the bedding of grass and ferns is changed regularly. The cubs’ eyes open at about five weeks old and the silky, grey fur they are born with starts to become darker and coarser. If you are
lucky enough to know of a sett you can watch without disturbing the badgers it’s worth going along on a still night in the late spring to watch the antics of the youngsters as they play together. Adults often take part in the games too. Not unlike humans really. Never get too close to a sett (it’s an offence to disturb badgers or their homes). It’s best to use binoculars so that you can keep your distance but still watch them. Badgers have pretty poor eyesight but acute hearing and sense of smell so keep as quiet as possible and forego the perfume and aftershave for an evening!
Foxes too are getting ready for the hard work of parenthood. The cubs are born around mid-March and are kept safely underground until they are four or five weeks old. Their eyes change colour from blue to the characteristic amber at this age, and the coat changes from dark brown to red. By September most of the young males will have left to lead lives of their own but the females may stay with the family group. Often young, single vixens will help to rear the next year’s cubs.
Although many birds have already chosen a nest site for the spring it’s not too late to put bird boxes up for the later breeders, like blue tits and great tits. If you have more than one nest box to put up make sure that they are a reasonable distance apart from each other. Most small birds don’t like being able to see their neighbours.
Tree sparrows are the exception. They like to nest in groups and will happily use nest boxes like those for blue tits but with slightly bigger entrance holes – 32mm across is recommended. If you’re not too sure about telling the difference between house sparrows and tree sparrows just have a look at their heads. Tree sparrows (males and females) have black cheek patches and chestnut crowns. House sparrows have a grey crown and no cheek patch. Dunnocks are often called “hedge sparrows” but are no relation at all. The dunnock’s thin bill distinguishes it from true sparrows. Since 1970 the UK population of tree sparrows has declined by a staggering 95%. Providing them with homes and food (they love sunflower seeds and peanuts) can help them survive.
Another bird that has been in serious decline in Britain is the barn owl. Their call is un-nerving for such graceful birds, hence their other name of “screech owl”. There have been a few sightings of these beautiful birds around Drumoak and again you can help their plight by putting up a nest box. If you have access to a large undisturbed shed that an owl could get permanent access to try attaching an old tea chest or other large wooden box to a beam in a dark corner. You will need to make sure there’s a ledge for the young owls to sit on before they can fly. In a year or two you might be watching these beautiful birds flying around the local fields!
If you would like to have a go at building your own box for tree sparrows or barn owls give me a call at the rangers’ office and I’ll pass on the details.
Ranger Events
As always the ranger service is running a series of guided walks for adults and children from Easter until October. Look out for more details in the next newsletter. If you would like a copy of our events leaflet sent to you please call the rangers’ office on 01330 844651.
Fiona Mathieson
Observations of a Country Loon
This to me is the most exciting time of the year to be out and about in the countryside to see nature at its best as there is so much first sightings and fresh discoveries to be found.
I like to compare my notes with weather sayings that I find we should heed, because they relate to the north east area. At this point I’ll apologise for quoting a saying in the December newsletter without a mention of it being a weather saying and was mistaken for a weather forecast.
The saying was:
‘Frost the first hauf o November, dubs a December’
It pleased me to see the saying proved correct again.
With the mild back end we were seeing much more young rabbits than normal, but with the grass growing in January, they got a good start and will be able to cope with the adverse weather if it comes. There was no sign of rabbits breeding in January (Fur can be seen on the ground where mating took place). This can tell us that cold weather can be expected within two month.
I look to the oyster catcher mostly, to tell me what weather to expect and when changes will take place during springtime. Hearing their first calls when flying overhead, usually about St Valentines time, tells us spring is nae far awa. I liken their first skirl to that of a piper playing a gweed gyan tune to lift our feelings.
Oyster catchers never stay in the fields overnight until the worst of the frosts are past, they return to the riverside by night. Waders dinna like caul feet.
I’ve seen them some years, start to stay overnight in the fields by the end of January, and other years as late as the beginning of April . When they start to nest, if the weather is going to be dry, they choose an area where the soil will stay moist, if wet they go on to higher areas even flat roofs or on tarmac. The chicks can be very vulnerable to drowning in small pools during a wet spell.
If rain is imminent adult birds can be heard calling their chicks on to higher ground.When this occurs it seems to start pairs of neighbouring adults to get together and fly around in a frenzy skirlin thir heeds aff. This lets us know its going to rain but can keep us awake at night. I liken their skirls then, to a learner piper playing richt in yer lug. The oyster catcher is known as a Skirlin Wullie amongst country folk of the north east.
April brings us the first of the migrant birds, they can tell much about the summer weather to expect. The most popular of our summer visitors are the swallows. The old saying ‘one swallow doesn’t make a summer’ is so true. If only a few swallows arrive we can tell the summer will be cold and wet, as it requires warm weather to get enough winged insects airbourne to provide sustenance for large numbers of ‘on the wing’ feeding birds.
Remember! Niver cast a cloot till the mey be oot.
The mey being what we, in Scotland, used to call the native Hawthorne plant but is known as the mayflower further south. The flower usually only opens to full bloom when the night frosts are past. I’ve seen it as late as mid June.
The country loon.
News from Drum Castle Gardens
"Looking Ahead”
I know from the hyperactivity on the bird feeders this morning, that we are in for another cold spell. The squabbling of dozens of tom and great tits, the invasion of starling gangs, the angry catcalls of the blackbird trying to fend off all the intrusion into his patch, the bustle of chaffinches and scurrying dunnocks busy as carpet cleaners below the feeders. Snow is on its way.
And yet, in mid-February, this harbinger of bad weather matters less than it did two months ago, when I would have hurried to get the fridge filled up with fresh veg. from Safeway, rather than risk the slide down our hill to the A93 . The days are lengthening, the woodpeckers are drumming crazily , the snowdrops are almost lifting their full bonnets and the clematis buds are bulging. The snow won't stay, gone in a day. A wee bit won't matter; it might even encourage the plants to slow down a little, for these 14 degree plus temperatures have lulled plants into a false spring, teasing the buds into surging too early.
In the early 21st century, we are 'almost' in a position to ignore the weather, except those of us who farm or snowplough or suchlike. We are generally complacent about wind and rain, or snow and ice, since we no longer have to draw our own water, or find fuel to cook with and heat our homes. We flick a switch, or turn a dial and the heat is turned up, the house is illuminated. We can ignore the months of darkness and cold. The solidity of the Tower of Drum stands out starkly in these months and, as we go about our chores and smells of wood burning on the open fire of the Brewhouse Cellar waft around, it is easy to picture a medieval life ruled by the seasons.
Much of the gardener's day. if such a gardener existed, would have been spent hauling wood and water from the land around. With no glazed windows, and wind driven in through every crevice, with only itchy homespun woollen or hemp clothes for body warmth, with stinking animal fat candles barely casting pools of light in rooms where windows meant exposure, not views out, where windows meant poor defence and insecurity, and with the main sources of food by February, being from vats preserved five months earlier, tasting heavily of salt, old and in the first stages of decay, it is no wonder that medieval man celebrated spring with licence and revelry!
"Springtime is the time of gladness and of love, for in springtime everything seems glad; the earth waxes green, trees burgeon and spread, meadows bring forth flowers, the heavens shine, and everything that in winter seemed dead and withered is renewed" So declared a chap by the name of Barthomlew in 1260, gladly and gustily. A wonderful description! See how your heart lifts when you picture spring!
Spring was a time of fasting and of purging and cleaning of body, soul and living quarters. It was a time to embrace health after the staleness of winter ills. Jaded bodies were boosted with tonics such as young nettle soup and tansy puddings. Cleavers, sage, fennel shoots, yellow iris and redcurrant leaves were used as laxatives and violent purging brews. Then after the fasting and cleaning, came the feasting, the revelry, the celebrations of Easter and Maydays and the arrival of Spring and rebirth of life.
Flowers marked the seasons and took the place of calendars; they commemorated religious occasions, and births, deaths and marriages. Flowers were used as food and flavourings and served medicinal and decorative functions. Flowers gave pleasure but most had duel roles and if not edible or medicinal were at the very least used as floor coverings to ward off the oppressive odours of a very smelly way of life with no plumbing or sanitation. Flowers were a poor woman's jewels, given as gifts or love tokens, used to decorate King's palaces or peasants huts, made into salves, dyes, ointments, cosmetics, and oils. Every festival, feast or funeral had its floral livery.
It is no wonder most of us still feel that rush of warmth when signs of spring appear. It is in our blood, our heritage, our ancestry. It is the feel good factor of life itself.
Look then, for the primrose, the first flower of Spring, common on hedgebanks and in dappled shade. Primroses were used in love potions and for treating gout and rheumatism, whilst the roots could be made into an infusion for dissolving headaches. Look too, for its sticky seeds and for the ants that disperse them.
Look also, in damper grasslands, for its close relative, the cowslip. 'Cowslip' means 'cow's breath' and suggested to medieval folk, an endearing delicate and pleasant smell. Definitely an acquired perfume! Use your imagination to smell how bad your medieval cottage smelt, if cow's breath was considered so much better! Perhaps it depends on what our cows are fed! Cowslips were so prolific in medieval times that young maidens would pick the flowers and roll them into a Tissty-Tossty. This ball was then tossed whist calling out the names of potential suitors and when the ball eventually and inevitably collapsed, the named suitor of that moment was to be the one true love. Of course, much would depend on how well the ball was made and with what strength it was thrown, she adds cynically. Cowslips also made one of the best and most potent of country wines, now a distant memory.