Good day, Bad day...

Yesterday was a Good Day. The sky was blue, the sun was actually warm for the first time this year, spring was really getting on with it. Down at Latchbrook the rookery is being loudly refurbished, smaller birds are racing round madly chasing each other in and out of the bushes - and there was so much frogspawn in the little marsh that I didn't feel at all guilty about taking some home to populate my little pond. A Good Day.
Today started well, too. The weather was wet and miserable, but we had an excellent meeting at Rilla Mill this morning and I was still quite cheerful when I left there to come home at 12.30. I got as far as Callington before the day turned Bad. I got a puncture. Right in the middle of the town where the main A388 is constricted by all the old buildings and the articulated lorries, tractors, buses and other traffic are all struggling to negotiate their way through. I managed to get half off the road, but I could sense the lorry drivers thinking evil thoughts at me as they struggled past.
The RAC took an hour and a half to get to me. Then the spare tyre was soft, and when the RAC man tried to blow it up the valve exploded, which meant even more standing around in the cold and rain while he blew up the punctured tyre and put it back for (just) long enough for me to drive up the hill and round the corner to a tyre place. It wasn't repairable, naturally; there's a cut over an inch long right across the middle of the tread. Goodness knows what I ran over to cause that. So now I have two new tyres on the front, and the best three of what was left on the back wheels and as a spare. I am rather less solvent than I was this morning, and consider the day to have lost its bright promise. I haven't even been to check up on my frogspawn!

Rats!

I belong to an email chat list where no subject is taboo, discussions get very involved and topics quickly get diverted into all sorts of interesting byways - almost like being in an old fashioned pub but with a couple of hundred people chipping in with their own points of view.
A couple of days ago a conversation which began (I think) as a discussion of what is and isn't VATable segued into an explanation of what fat balls are. One person pointed out that in his experience all fat balls did was attract rats to the bird table and the birds never got a look in.
Smug clever me responded that the rats don't get at my fat balls, housed as they are in a hanging cage, and someone else continued with another more complicated method involving old CDs - sounds fun.
Then I moved from my computer at the front of the house to the kitchen, glanced out of the window - and there was the brownest, sleekest, fattest, biggest rat I have ever seen, spread across the crumb tray scoffing homemade brown bread crumbs with gusto! He still couldn't get at the fat balls, though...
The crumb tray is the lowest item on the feeding station, but it still at least seven feet off the ground. There's a vertical pole to climb to reach it, but it does go up through the hebe, which would assist in climbing. Also, I've pruned a lot of the branches to make it easier for me to climb and reach up for refilling purposes. As soon as the rat sensed me at the window it scurried down the pole and across to the other side of the garden, taking refuge under a loose pile of unused plantpots behind the compost bin. Immediately it vanished, a dozen sparrows that had been waiting chattering on the back fence flew straight down to the feeders in what almost looked like desperation, but is actually just normal for them.
After a few minutes the rat came back, ran across to the base of the feeders, turned straight round and back under the pots. And vanished. It hasn't been seen since, although I am well aware that that doesn't mean it isn't there, just that it's being a bit more careful.
I'm a bit equivocal about rats; I admire them as intelligent and resourceful animals, and if I'm having a wildlife garden then there should be a place for all wildlife, but I still have this feeling they're not quite safe to have around. So I've compromised. I'm taking Ty down into the garden with me a couple of times a day, in the hope that that's enough to make my new friend move along. And I've stopped putting out breadcrumbs for the birds, which means disappointed pigeons gathering on the roof and protesting quite loudly. So perhaps I'll have to start again - perhaps I'll try the old CDs dangingling trick!

Cross Country City Walk

Walk across Plymouth without crossing a road? Ian said it could be done, so we tried it. Actually in our four or five mile walk from the Tesco superstore at Woolwell to the Beefeater at Marsh Mills for lunch we had to cross three, although the first to get from the nearest car park to the entrance to Cann Woods shouldn't count, and the last two little ones on the way from Coypool to Marsh Mills wouldn't have counted either if we hadn't wanted to go to the pub for lunch. I reckon Ian passed the challenge with flying colours, and we had a very enjoyable stroll through the woods. I had no idea that the woodland along the river Plym came as close in to the city centre as it does, nor that it was possible to get under all the flyovers and round the islands at Marsh Mills so easily on foot.
It was gentle walking, too, all along good paths and tending downhill all the way - we started at about 500ft above sea level and got right down to the tidal part of the river. There was plenty of water for the dogs to stand, play or swim in according to their mood and some interesting industrial ruins. I was intrigued by the information board by the water wheel pit at Cann Quarry. Apparently it was built and opened in 1865 to replace a steam winch used for hauling slate wagons up from the quarry. Even then, it would appear, the green faction were trying to provide cheaper, less fuel hungry alternatives. Unfortunately it was not a success, and closed again after only a year, being replaced by the original steam winch.
At the Coypool end of the walk we travelled alongside the three quarter mile stretch of restored railway line which is part of a project to get all the way to Plym Bridge (twice that far!). From there we were back near, but not in, traffic and bustle. There are footpaths parallel to the road but hidden from it, and then a fascinating view of the A38 flyover from underneath, then more secret footpaths to Sainsbury's and a very long footbridge over the Embankment to the Beefeater, where we had lunch. Normal lunch, not the St Valentine's Special.
Eight human and three canine walkers today, joined by three more humans for lunch. The weather was, well, pleasant enough but undistinguished. The walk and the company were of the best.

Avian eating habits

It's always exciting when a non-sparrow comes to eat in my garden. Bluetits, great tits and longtailed tits, chaffinches, goldfinches, blackbirds and starlings all pass by fairly regularly, and I still have my (hopefully) resident robin and wren, but it's the sparrows that come in the greatest numbers and most frequently.
At this time of year the fat balls are probably the most popular food on offer, but as those nylon nets they come in seem to me to be nothing but claw traps I have a special container for them. It's about the same size and shape as the traditional peanut feeder, but made of a much larger mesh - big enough for the sparrows to get their whole heads through. It also makes the fat balls accessible to larger birds such as starlings, which love them, especially as I have modified the original feeder by fixing a substantial twig across the bottom for birds to perch on.
Sparrows attack with gusto, frequently dropping bits, concerned to get in first and eat as much as possible as fast as possible. And three or four starlings in a concerted feeding frenzy can (and do) demolish a whole new fat ball in just over an hour. The feeding behaviour of this afternoon's new visitor appeared very strange by comparison.
A blackcap. A beautiful slim bird in shades of grey, almost blue on the breast, with a neat black crown, the first I've seen in my garden. Perching on the fat ball feeder, quietly enjoying a snack.
So what was strange about that? As it was feeding, every so often a crumb would fall onto the hebe about four or five inches below. And the blackcap would swing upside down on the perch, stretch out and very delicately retrieve it. The most elegant, fastidious eater it has been my privilege to watch from my kitchen window. I just hope it returns and that the sparrows learn some manners by example!

Sunday walk with snowdrops

There are basically two ways to start the day as far as Ty is concerned. The first is that the alarm goes off, I get out of bed, shower, dress and take him down the Coombe. After that I have a cup of coffee and do things with keyboards before changing my clothes, combing my hair and going out. Somewhere around the hair combing stage he goes to bed and lies there, sulking, knowing he's going to be leftat home. This happens three or four days a week.
The second plan is that I get up when I wake up, sit about in a dressing gown drinking coffee and staring at a computer screen (sometimes for hours), before eventually showering, dressing and taking him out. I don't think he's all that bothered which we do, as a general rule.
Today was different, though. With the first ring of the alarm he jumped on the bed and pointed at it, wound up tight waiting for me to switch it off. Usual routine, dress, drink of water, off down the Coombe. Back again. Make a cup of coffee, sit down at keyboard. Instead of lying down quietly somewhere as usual, though, Ty took up station by my right elbow, sitting and staring, poised and ready... Coffee finished, I started gathering bags and stuff together as usual. Picked up my comb. Instead of going to bed for a sulk, he ran to the front door. I sat back down at the computer, he started with the nose under the elbow 'get up, get up, I want something...'
Eventually the phone rang, our lift was outside, and off we went for a day's adventure. But how had he known that today he was going with me? The routine was absolutely normal. I was careful not to say anything about walks. I didn't even put my big boots on, but still he knew.
It was a good morning's walk, too. From Pentewan, halfway between St Austell and Mevagissey, we took a valley trail along an old railway track (this one carried iron ore, I believe) by the side of the White River, so called presumably because its bed is mostly china clay. From there we took a diversion uphill through and round the King's Wood, a bit of ancient woodland now well looked after by the Woodland Trust with maps, waymarks and boards with bits of history, see http://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/en/our-woods/Pages/wood-details.aspx?wood=4357 then back along the riverbank to an excellent carvery lunch at the Ship Inn.
We saw lots of snowdrops and winter heliotrope in flower. The heliotrope had been starting to flower before the big freeze at the beginning of January blighted and shrivelled the leaves, but it's grown new smaller ones and is filling the banks with odour of cherry pie. Here in the Coombe the wild garlic is well grown, but there have been very few celandines this year - the freeze caught them too.
In spite of the greyness of the sky today and a chilly wind I do feel that spring is on its way - I'm just not sure when!