Tales from the allotment

 

Hi everyone. It's been a while since my last blog post, and Sybil and I haven't been on many decent walks lately due to a badly sprained foot (mine, this time). I thought I would post some photos of my allotment instead.

My sweet peas have been doing fairly well. I collected the seeds from last years plants, as I grew those in my Mum's garden and they have sentimental value to me. They smell gorgeous, and I've been cutting them as often as possible so they keep flowering.

Please excuse the black ring around some of the photos; today was the first time I have used my conversion macro lens and I'm still getting to grips with it. This isn't macro photography by any means, just an hour pointing and shooting.

Sweet peas

Feminine touches in the greenhouse

The tomatoes are doing well. I've had a fair few fruits off the plants already, and spend many afternoons chomping away on raw peas and tomatoes on the allotment.

A new flower for me is the nasturtium. I've never grown these before, but in spring I threw a few seeds down on the border by the gate, and this happened:

The flowers are so pretty, and the bees love them.

The runner beans are growing well. They have grown up the canes so fast, and each plant is packed with red flowers, but today I noticed my first actual bean.



Proud moment

I also have my first rose in bloom; eventually I am hoping the plant will trail over my gate.

There were two grape vines in the greenhouse when I took the plot over. They have come back to life and are now producing hundreds of grapes:

I bought several buddleia bushes to attract butterflies and bees, and surprisingly, although tiny, one of them has flowered already this year:

 

The flowerhead looks small and fluffy from a distance, but it is actually made up of hundreds of tiny pink flowers. 

Another set of flowers I'm pleased with, considering my lack of green fingers, are my poached egg plants. Yet another packet of seeds that I threw on a border and, to be honest, didn't expect much from:

 

They are really pretty flowers, and another one that is popular with the bees. But the most popular by far has to be the blue cornflowers by the pond. The bees love them, and I am constantly deadheading the flowers to keep them going as long as possible.

Another "first" for me is managing to grow marigolds from seeds. These are French petit, and produce lovely orange and yellowish flowers. I got up close and personal with them today, and saw them from a closer perspective:

I've planted these around my outside tomato plants, as they are a good companion plant (or so the books say).

The allotment is far from finished, as such as allotments ever are, as only half of the plot is dug over. My sprained foot means I probably won't get any more beds dug this summer, but by the autumn I hope to have gotten a good move on. It's still a long way from the overgrown mess it was when I first took it on.

Keep popping back; I will hopefully have a good walk written up soon. The summer has been nice and mild so far, great for long walks with Sybil as neither of us like too much heat.

Bempton Cliffs, with a dash of rockpooling

On Sunday the 7th of June, I visited Bempton Cliffs again. This is a hugely popular place for birdwatchers, unsurprisingly, as during the summer months the cliffs are packed with thousands of seabirds.



Gannet

 

Gannet

The most obvious, and in my opinion the most impressive of these, is the gannet, Morus bassanus. With a two metre wingspan, these huge birds are the first ones my eye is drawn to as they soar below the cliff face. Their song, if you can call it that, is a series of quick, quite harsh, monotonous notes strung together; a constant soundtrack to my walk along the clifftop.

Kittiwake

Kittiwake

The next bird I'm aware of, by hearing it at first rather than seeing it, is the rather delicate-looking kittiwake, Rissa tridactyla. Its gentle features give you the idea that this is not a gull that would swoop down and steal your ice-cream. Its' common name comes from the sound of its' call. Listen closely and you would indeed be convinced it is shouting out "kittiwake, kittiwake!" Easily one of my favourite birds to see on the cliffs.

Razorbill

Another bird you are likely to see at Bempton is the Razorbill, Alca torda. One of our Northern "penguins", it has a large bill that distinguishes it from a close relative the guillemot, Uria aalge.

Bridled guillemot

The photo above shows a bridled guillemot, which is one of the forms the birds shows. The bridled form varies from the normal by having a white eye ring with a white stripe behind it. A very pretty bird.

Fulmar

Fulmar pair

Now for one of my absolute favourite birds. I first saw the fulmar, Fulmarus glacialis, when watching an old episode of Wildlife SOS as a teenager. I took to them immediately and really wanted to see one. There were a pair on the cliffs two years ago when I first visited Bempton Cliffs, but this year they seemed to be everywhere. I'm not sure if it's the look of wisdom about their faces; the fact that they are related to the albatrosses; the interesting and ingenious tube on their bills that allows them to excrete salt; or that they can deter intruders by spitting a disgusting-smelling concoction at them. Either way, they deserve to be admired and appreciated.



Puffin

Puffin on a nest

Many peoples' main reason for visiting the cliffs is to see a puffin, Fratercula arctica. You are pretty much guaranteed to see the other species during the summer months, but it takes some searching (or a friendly fellow birder) to find a puffin. I saw four swimming on the sea below; from that distance, they look only slightly different from the guillemots and razorbills, and you need a keen eye to pick out their white cheeks.

My best encounter of the day was when I was watching gannets soaring close by, when a puffin actually flew right over my head. I got rather excited and pointed towards it, only to realise I was on my own and must have looked rather strange. Never mind.

Near the end of the day, I was standing near a group of people who were pointing their ridiculously large camera lenses (yes, OK, I am a little jealous) toward an opening in the cliff face. I followed with my binoculars to realise inside was a puffin on a nest. They nest in burrows, so obviously this pair had thought this an ideal place to raise their chick. I tried to take a few photos, difficult when the little cave was so dark, but I couldn't stay long as the centre was closing and my train would soon be due.

Thornwick Bay

Before I found the puffin on her nest, I decided to leave the crowded cliffs and have a walk down towards Flamborough on my own. It turned out to be a longer walk than I was expecting, due to the rambling cliffside paths, and I never managed to reach the lighthouse; nonetheless, it was just as well I didn't, as I discovered the little gem of Thornwick Bay.

The rocky shore was perfect for a spot of rockpooling, which I haven't done since I was on a college trip. I have read numerous books about the creatures that dwell in them, and have always wanted to have a go on my own, so this was the perfect chance. It may have looked slightly odd; a woman in her mid-twenties delving into each pool with more enthusiasm than a child with a fishing net, but I didn't care.

Young shore crab

Common periwinkle

Beadlet anemone

The common periwinkles were indeed very common, and several of the pools were filled with them. The anemone does look more impressive under water with tentacles extended, I have to admit. I also saw a couple of fish, possibly blennies, and a large shrimp...or maybe it was a prawn?

I had to leave all too soon, and walk back to Bempton to catch the last train home. A fantastic day out, even if I did end up with horrid sunburn all over the back of my neck...

There's a pheasant in my greenhouse! and other stories

Where is this year going? I can't believe it is April already. I love the anticipation of the coming spring that the late winter months bring; watching for snowdrops and daffodils tentatively poking their heads above the soil, and those teasing days of blue skies and mild temperatures before another flurry of snow reminds us we are still in the clutches of winter.

Then, all of a sudden, the chiffchaffs are back from Africa, trees and hedgerows are becoming greener everyday and the whole season seems to have crept upon us with a shout. People around the country are already reporting sightings of swallows; perhaps the birds knew about the mini heatwave we seem to be having at the moment.

I've been spending several hours of each day down at the allotment. There is still plenty of digging to be done, and I seem to have fallen behind with the tasks despite taking on the plot in early winter. I have managed to get quite a bit done though, and the plot is gradually taking shape.

The gales we had a couple of weeks ago destroyed a couple more of my greenhouse panes, and I spent a lot of time picking up each shard of glass (as Sybil joins me on the allotment now) and putting new panes of glass up. Despite all of my hastily-acquired DIY skills, I arrived on the plot on Saturday morning to a sudden commotion inside the greenhouse. A pheasant had somehow managed to squeeze its way in and was panicking and flying about inside, desperately looking for an escape route. I quickly cornered the pesky bird and managed to pick it up, but not before it threw itself with some force at one of my larger panes. I sent the bird on its way and set to trying to fix the now gaping hole in the back of my greenhouse. This is the best I can do:

but thankfully the greenhouse is still plenty warm enough for my seedlings to germinate. Here's some I prepared earlier:

Pea Kelvedon Wonder

Sweet Pea

The sweet peas are ready to be potted on, and I finally seem to have come to an uneasy truce with the mouse living inside the greenhouse. We had an ongoing battle last month; I would plant the pea seeds and during the night, he or she would thank me for the free feast and eat the whole lot. I now leave a large scattering of peanuts on the greenhouse floor, and the little mouse seems happy with this arrangement. He/she has snaffled a few more of my sweet pea seeds, but my Kelvedon Wonder peas have germinated and will hopefully be feeding myself this time.

Parsley, Mint, Chives

The herb bed in the picture above was a tangled mess of couch grass, brambles and various other weeds whose names I do not know. I cleared the whole lot and put some concrete slabs around the outside to create a herb garden. I have cheated and bought some herb plants from the supermarket, but the other varieties I want to grown will be (hopefully) grown from seed.

The frogspawn I introduced to my pond has now hatched, and I have several happy tadpole residents. They get free room and board in exchange for mopping up the pesky slugs when they are fully grown.

Tiny tadpoles

Picture of some soil (aka wildflower seeds)

Next to the pond I have sown a huge amount of wildflower seeds. I love wildflowers, and the bees and butterflies the packet claims they will attract. Whether they grow or not remains to be seen. I will keep you updated.

I have also finished the strawberry bed. I would love to learn to make my own jam, so I bought loads of strawberry plants from the Aldi and dedicated a whole raised bed to them. Apparently the weed control fabric will keep the fruits off the soil and help prevent them rotting. It won't stop the birds or the wasps getting to them first, though.

On the way to and from the allotment, I pass a delightful area of my estate that has been planted with tons of daffodils, cowslips and primroses. They are really in their prime right now and look amazing; if only more estates were planted up like this in my town.

Thanks for reading :)

Kinder Scout via Crowden Clough

 

Hi readers. Sybil and I ventured out to the Peak District yesterday. It's been way too long since we last visited the park, and I was determined to make the best use of an otherwise empty Sunday.

We left the busy train at Edale, after Sybil had, of course, made friends with most of the passengers and train staff. Her habit of sitting on my knee in order to look out of the window always manages to bring a few smiles and friendly comments; at 20kg, she isn't your typical lapdog.

Our destination today was the plateau of Kinder Scout. I wanted to climb this via the less busy route of Crowden Clough. We joined the Pennine Way out of Edale and headed towards Upper Booth Farm. Today the farm was pretty much deserted, save for a few chickens pecking around, as it is still fairly early in the walking season.

A few hardy campers had pitched their tents in the field. Rather them than me, personally, as even my flat gets pretty cold during the early spring nights. Mind you, I am rather strict when it comes to turning the heating on.

We soon reached Crowden Clough. The path here winds rather lazily through the valley alongside, and sometimes through, the thankfully fairly shallow stream that is Crowden Brook. What the stream lacks in depth, it more than makes up for in natural beauty, particularly in the form of waterfalls. Here are a few pitiful attempts at photographing them:

Sybil, however, isn't too keen on getting her feet wet, and sometimes convincing her to cross the stream was a job in itself.

Hmm, really not too sure Mum. It looks all wet.

Is there a boat somewhere?

There is certainly no water-loving breed in this dog's genetic makeup. Posing, however, is a different story; that is, if you can get her to sit still for long enough.

Stopping for a quick rest.

Come on, Mum. The path goes this way.

The final scramble on the plateau was a huge undertaking for someone of my (non) fitness level. The path was so steep in places, and the footholds were far enough apart to make me glad I was blessed with such long legs. The large stack of rocks that is Crowden Tower loomed above me, drawing me forward by reassuring me that I was almost at the top. I had a vision of the tower being an optical illusion, that upon reaching it I would be confronted by another sizeable hill to climb before I crested the summit.

It's that a-way

Thankfully this was not the case; instead, the scene that greeted us was rather breathtaking. Rocks of every size, shape and texture dotted the plateau, some smooth and flat, whittled down by years of  rain, wind and snow; whilst others were huge, round boulders, taller than I was and three times as wide.

We rounded the corner, sticking to the most obvious footpath, only for myself to sink straight up to my calves in a huge patch of boggy peat. Sybil's delicate paws barely dented the surface, yet my not inconsiderable weight swallowed my feet and ankles whole. I proceeded to perform a strange kind of shuffle-walk, trying to walk forward without loosing either of my boots. Finally managing to reach firm ground again, I was relieved to see that we were heading towards a thoughtfully constructed flagstone path.

 



We passed through the amazing landscape that is the Woolpacks, a collection of misshapen rocks even more curious than those we had already encountered. The magnificence of them could not be captured by my amateurish photography skills, but the image that my mind conjured up was that the landscape was rather moon-like in atmosphere. Of course, never having been to the moon, I am less than qualified to compare the two, but it certainly is worth going up Kinder Scout to appreciate it.

 

Pym Chair, I believe?

Nice place for a lunch break



We stopped for lunch beneath another huge tower of rock I believe to be known as Pym Chair (please correct me if I'm wrong). The view was one not to be sniffed at as I sat and scoffed my sandwiches, watching people in the distance climbing the monstrosity that is Jacob's Ladder. With the mist beginning to roll out behind us, I decided that we shouldn't linger and curved round to meet the top of the Ladder. Descending this way with Sybil on lead was not really an experience I would like to repeat, but nonetheless we managed to reach the bottom unscathed and I let Sybil refresh herself in the river near the bridge before we joined the path back to Edale.

 

Rather delicately taking a dip

A helicopter suddenly appeared over the hill as we began our journey back to the village. I know the guys are doing some restoration work on Kinder, so hopefully this helicopter was involved in that work and not rescuing someone from the now mist-enshrouded summit.

   

With an hour and a half to wait until the train home arrived and now that Sybil was of drinking age, I decided to risk taking her in her first ever pub. I peered around the pub door rather nervously, mentally mapping out where all the other dogs were sat. I had little reason to worry though, as my usually leash-reactive Sybil was quickly making friends with another collie once she realised that well-behaved dogs got delicious chips.

 

She also got a fair share of the treats from other customers; in fact, one customer crouched in front of her to ask her to sit and give paw for a biscuit, and she rather shamelessly threw herself against him for a cuddle, eliciting the desired aww's from the room. My dog can be such a creep, sometimes.