Dear Readers, you might remember that we’ve been fostering a fourteen year-old cat called Abbie. Abbie had lived with one lady for the past ten years, until her owner died. Since then, she’s  been in a variety of temporary homes, which has been very traumatic for an anxious, shy cat, who has previously lived a quiet life.

Anyhow, she’s gradually started to come out of her shell. Last week, we discovered that she not only likes tea, but will use unusual tactics to get at it…

Bless her! She’s like Arthur the Kattomeat cat, who used to eat with his paw out of a tin.

And I have discovered a rather convoluted tale concerning Arthur, with an East Finchley link – you can have a look here.

Well, last week Abbie went to the animal hospital for some dental work, and came out minus most of her teeth, poor love. She spent a while under the bed looking very sad, until the painkillers kicked in and she was back to being her queenly self.

She is a creature of regular habits: breakfast should be no later than seven a.m., after lunch it’s time for a brush and at 6 p.m. it’s time for supper. She often jumps up between us while we watch the television, and then it’s time for bed. She is coping with the current heat by finding a patch of sunlight and laying in it. Go figure.

At this point, I would usually put out a call for someone to adopt her but, dear Readers, I can resist her charms no longer. I am worried that a fourteen year-old cat with minimal teeth and the social confidence of a mouse would spend a long, long time waiting for her forever home, and the fear of vet’s bills to come would also be a deterrent for many people. Plus, her charms are subtle, unlike those of some of the younger cats we’ve looked after – she sleeps, eats, comes around for a stroke and then sleeps some more. Perfect. She doesn’t want to go outside, so my garden birds are safe. And so, we’ve decided to adopt her, and to give her the best possible life for the rest of her time. Our fostering days are at an end, for now at least.

Dear Readers, it was a mere 84 degrees Fahrenheit today, but with the humidity apparently it feels like 91 degrees. So heaven help the poor elephant leading the parade at the East Finchley Festival. I only hope he or she didn’t expire. There were a couple of people dressed as Mickey and Minnie Mouse too, plus a pink shark. Fortunately for those of us on the Friends of Coldfall Wood and Muswell Hill Playing Fields stall, no peculiar clothing was required, and it was still way too hot.

First up, we were told one site to pitch our marquee, then another one (where someone had already set up), and then finally the correct one, so it was just a case of wrestling the marquee into an upright position. It always makes sense to have a chap to advise on these occasions…

But to be fair, said chap then  helped carry the marquee up and down the festival site until we found the right spot. And look how good it looked once it was all set up!

We had some ‘business cards’  with flower seeds in them, which were a big hit, and we were trying to drum up some business with our tombola, where everyone won something. I suspect that the prizes will get more generous as the day wears on, and it dawns upon us that what people don’t win will have to go home with us.

It’s a lovely chance to chat to people, and discuss the wood, and to see what else is going on, but after a couple of shifts I’m usually done – I’m a bit of an introvert, and so, although I love people, I only have a certain amount of energy. Plus, did I mention it was hot? But it is a great occasion, and watching and hearing the children dancing and singing on the Community Stage was a real joy. And someone brought us ice lollies, just what we all needed. So as usual, I’m glad that we did it, and also glad to be back at home in  the (relative)  cool, writing this. I am so happy to be part of the East Finchley Community. It’s my favourite place in the whole world.

Gargi the Pelican

Dear Readers, you may remember that last year I described a visit to St James’s Park, and my encounter with Gargi, the free-flying pelican. Gargi was renowned for occasionally visiting the nearby Zoo, at or around feeding time for the penguins, but it appears that this is not the only thing she’s been getting up to, Four chicks have hatched, for the first time in 360 years, but their parentage is uncertain – five eggs were laid in three nests, and thirty-year old Gargi has been sharing brooding duties with another female, eight year-old Star. No one knows which of the two male pelicans, Sun and Moon, is the father. The chicks are now apparently about two feet high, and are doing very well, though they have a rather dinosaur-like demeanour which is a little challenging for anyone who likes their baby birds resembling an Easter chick.

Young pelicans (Photograph from the Royal Parks)

Pelicans (Photo Royal Parks)

You might remember me mentioning that the pelicans were locked up last year because of Avian Flu – apparently the nest building started then. As Gargi was free, it makes me think that maybe Star is the mum, and Gargi is just helping out. Whatever the story, it certainly cheers me up, especially as I’m posting this on the Solstice, the longest day of the year.

Well Readers, the trail camera is back in position, and after I’ve deleted all the photos of my husband walking to and from our new shed, I have quite a few foxy shots to share with you. This one is a hefty dog fox, but our cub is also popping in every night – I thought we had two cubs, but have decided it’s actually a vixen and one cub.

The cub is adorable, but is already quite a lot larger than he or she was when he first appeared, so I suppose at some point s/he’ll disperse. Or will they? There’s some evidence that cubs sometimes hang around in their parents’ territory and help to provision the cubs that are born the following year. This probably makes sense in town, where territories are so hard to come by, and where food is relatively easily available (at least if the debris along East Finchley High Road is anything to go by).

Oh, and if there’s any dry dog food left (we only throw out a handful) the collared doves and woodpigeons are always happy to tidy it up…

Dear Readers, today I went for a lovely walk around the gravel pits at Tyttenhanger, about twenty minutes drive from East Finchley. Some of the pits are now disused and attract a wide variety of birds (the count for the site as a whole is over 200 species), but some pits are still used by Tarmac to extract sand and gravel, and some of the machinery is still in use…

However, what is lovely is the range of habitats – everything from hedgerow and meadow to forest, wetland and bog. We saw more caterpillars than I’ve done in years, especially cinnabar moth caterpillars. These were the first caterpillars that I raised when I was a little girl, so I’ve always had a soft spot for them…

There was even an adult Cinnabar moth, presumably thinking about laying eggs.

In several of the nettle patches there were Peacock butterfly caterpillars – Butterfly Conservation describes them as ‘spotted like a starry night’. I love their little orange feet as well.

In one of the meadows there was half a dozen pristine Marbled White butterflies – the caterpillars feed on various grasses, especially Red Fescue, so another reason to keep grass long.

There were hundreds of Nursery Web spider webs…

And lots of beetles on the Hogweed. First up were hundreds of tiny Pollen Beetles, each one about the size of a caraway seed…

Then there were a few ‘bonking beetles’ (more properly known as Soldier Beetles)

And a Thick-Legged Beetle (only the males have the Arnold Schwarzenegger thighs)

And finally, this beautiful Demoiselle damselfly.

What is so impressive at Tyttenhanger is the range of plant life, including some species that I’d not seen (or maybe not noticed) before.

Lesser Salsify (Tragopogon pratensis)

Common Centaury (Centaurium erythraea)

As I’m reading Peter Marren’s ‘The Devil’s Garden’ I was especially pleased to come across this plant – Hemlock (Conium maculatum), extremely poisonous, and certainly a worthy contender for a Wednesday Weed.

Hemlock (Conium maculatum)

And there were masses of old plant friends too, such as Goat’s Rue

…Birdsfoot Trefoil…

Birdsfoot Trefoil (Lotus corniculata)

Spear Thistle (Cirsium vulgare)

Dark Mullein (Verbascum nigrum)

St John’s Wort

Musk Mallow is having a very good year, some of the roadside verges were pink with it, so pretty.

Musk Mallow (Malva moschata)

Yellow Loosestrife

And finally, in the woods there are some extraordinary Sweet Chestnut trees – my tree loving friend L explained how unusual it is for these trees to grow straight without twisting.

A straight Sweet Chestnut Tree

A twistier Sweet Chestnut tree (apologies for the blur!!)

A fallen tree had a fine crop of oyster mushrooms on it too, but of course we left them. Having read the Peter Marren book about how easy it is to get mushroom foraging wrong, it seemed like the best thing to do for self-preservation, but of course fungi also have important work to do in breaking things down and returning their nutrients to the soil, so best to let them get on with it….

And then it was a brief drive to the Heartwood Cafe for the best breakfast ever – they even have a little garden, which was very welcome on this humid day. All in all the gravel pits are well worth a visit, and it gives me such joy to see so many insects and plant species. And we heard a cuckoo (23 species of bird heard in total). Job done!

Japanese Moon Moth (Actias artemis) Photo by By entophile – https://www.inaturalist.org/photos/153644961, CC BY 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=114060033

Dear Readers, lots of people write poems about butterflies (such as this cracker by Ellen Bass), but how about our mothy friends? Here is a haiku by Buson (1716 – 1784), followed by a response from Billy Collins. See what you think…

On the one-ton temple bell
Yosa Buson

On the one-ton temple bell
A moon moth, folded into sleep,
Sits still.

Japan by Billy Collins

Today I pass the time reading
a favorite haiku,
saying the few words over and over.

It feels like eating
the same small, perfect grape
again and again.

I walk through the house reciting it
and leave its letters falling
through the air of every room.

I stand by the big silence of the piano and say it.
I say it in front of a painting of the sea.
I tap out its rhythm on an empty shelf.

I listen to myself saying it,
then I say it without listening,
then I hear it without saying it.

And when the dog looks up at me,
I kneel down on the floor
and whisper it into each of his long white ears.

It’s the one about the one-ton temple bell
with the moth sleeping on its surface,

and every time I say it, I feel the excruciating
pressure of the moth
on the surface of the iron bell.

When I say it at the window,
the bell is the world
and I am the moth resting there.

When I say it at the mirror,
I am the heavy bell
and the moth is life with its papery wings.

And later, when I say it to you in the dark,
you are the bell,
and I am the tongue of the bell, ringing you,

and the moth has flown
from its line
and moves like a hinge in the air above our bed.

Arbuscular mycorrhiza (Image by By Oyarte-Galvez (AMOLF) – https://www.eurekalert.org/multimedia/986302, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=135745890)

Dear Readers, it’s long been known that arbuscular mycorrhizal fungi form ‘trading relationships’ with up to 70 percent of all plant species, swapping phosphorus and nitrogen in exchange for carbon-based sugars, Not only do these fungal networks sequester carbon, but they are also an important part of the structure of soils, helping them to retain water and nutrients, even after the fungi themselves die.

Scientists have been extracting soil samples for decades, with over 16,000 cores being extracted from 4,000 sites – these have been analysed to measure the density of hyphae (the fungal threads that exchange materials with the plants) and from these the amount of mycorrhiza at each location can be extrapolated.

From this information, the scientists have produced this extraordinary map. Do have a look – you can zoom in on a particular location to see how it’s doing for fungal density.

https://a-hidden-infrastructure.spun.earth/map#2.6/28.85/59.93

One of the things that the map tells us is that over 40 percent of the biomass of these arbuscular mycorrhizal fungi is in unimproved grasslands and wetlands, particularly the Tibetan plateau (with 11.4 metres of mycorrhiza to every cubic centimetre – just imagine how densely packed the fungal threads must be!), the Sudd wetlands in South Sudan, and Flint Prairie in the US. However, the density on croplands is 47 percent lower, which is worrying for soil fertility, climate change resilience and biodiversity. The fungicides that are used on many farms kill the mycorrhiza directly, while constant ploughing and turning over the soil damages the networks. Then fertilisers are used to replace the nutrients lost . Hopefully, the revelations from this study might flag up how damaging these practices are.

Looking at the map of the UK, it was interesting to see how the highland peat bogs and grasslands of Scotland were in the top 2 to 3 percent of density for the world as a whole, but as you travelled south it got worse and worse,  with some areas in the south of England being in the bottom 45 percent for mycorrhizal density, I had a lot of fun with this – you can zoom in a long way, and I imagine  you could probably pick out a local greenspace and see how it did. However, some areas have very little or no data, so we probably shouldn’t extrapolate too far from the general trend.

The scientists are eager not to suggest that this means that plants are talking to one another all over the planet via fungal networks, but there is definitely a degree of interconnectedness that hadn’t been appreciated before, and which has major implications for our ecosystems and for our food production. Do have a little play with the map, and have a look at the ‘story’ attached. This is pioneering work.

The map is here.

The story is here.

Dear Readers, the jackdaws have definitely arrived this year – looking back through the blog, I see that I first noticed one in the garden in 2017, 7 years after we arrived in East Finchley. Since then, an occasional bird has dropped in, but this year a whole family has turned up, and my pal Leo in Barnwood has had jackdaws in the community orchard for the first time, eating the cherries.

These are watchful, intelligent birds, and are often chased off by the much larger and more belligerent magpies, who also have babies. As do the parakeets, who are also visiting in groups of four.

There are still lots of fledgling starlings about, though they have mostly left their parents and travel in noisy juvenile groups, much like post-exam youngsters that I often see around East Finchley, full of youthful exuberance and high spirits.

And the great tits have definitely started a second brood – they have been in and out of the nest box all day. I missed the fledging last time, and am likely to be away for the next one too, but I’m so happy that they feel safe enough to nest so close to the house. They are moving from one nest box to another along the ‘sparrow terrace’ that the sparrows have ignored – there’s one more to go, so let’s see if they try to make it three broods. I’ll keep you posted!

Well, Readers, today I took my first look at the new Queen Elizabeth II garden in Regent’s Park. It’s been described as ‘a garden of colour and contemplation, of biodiversity and beauty, of memory and hope’, and it is a very attractive place. It’s on the site of the old nurseries for the Royal Parks (now moved to Hyde Park), and it prides itself on its accessibility – it has wide, level paths, accessible toilets, and is next to the espresso bar in case you need to stop for a caffeine hit.

At the moment the alliums are in full view: because parts of the garden are still fairly bare, they look like little round purple aliens, to me at least. The bees were thoroughly enjoying them, though I managed to get not a single photo of a pollinator. Sigh.

There are various ecosystems in the garden, including a couple of boggy ponds, a proper ‘lake’ and a meadow, and a nice mix of native and non-native plants. This little lake was a particular favourite, with a blackbird taking a bath and several dragonflies zipping about.

The meadow has a good mix of grasses, for butterfly and moth caterpillars, along with flowering plants.

There are some shady areas with rather nice leave/wood piles for insects…

And a nice plaque explaining some of the planting…

There’s a pergola built from metal repurposed from the nursery buildings…

And  a fine shallow ornamental lake, with a few waterlilies and lots of water plants around the edge.

All in all, this seems like a very fine addition to the Regent’s Park gardens, with something for everybody – lots of colour for those who like more traditional gardens, lots of places for wild creatures, and lots of nice places to sit down and just contemplate the scene.

On the way out, we noticed that this tree was gradually defeating the fence next to it…

And one of the fountains in the ornamental gardens is being refurbished – the original winged lions look a little disgruntled to me, and I’m not sure if they’ve been replaced or are going back.

Incidentally, this week I came across the notion of ‘orphaned’ words, where there is a negative but no positive word. So, there is ‘disgruntled’ but no ‘gruntled’, ‘nonchalant’ but no ‘chalant’. Can you think of any more?

And do pop into the Queen Elizabeth II garden if you get a chance, I suspect it will be constantly evolving and changing as it matures.