Quack

Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos)

When we lost several of our trees to the big windstorm last autumn, Mike took the opportunity to finally put in the pond he's been talking about for years. It's a reasonably big one, particularly considering that he dug it out by hand – it's roughly 7ft x 10ft (2m x 3.5m) and ranges in depth from a few inches to nearly two feet. The water has already attracted plenty of wildlife, most of it small and six-legged. Yesterday, it attracted something considerably larger: when we went out before supper to do some path mowing, we found a pair of Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) sizing up the scenery. Apparently they liked what they saw. After a bit of preening and splashing around, they waddled around the garden checking out various flower beds and corners. Eventually, Mrs. Mallard took a snooze right in the middle of one of the paths, while her mate stood wary guard. They even hung around while Mike mowed along the other side of the garden, shuffling a few feet at a time as he edged closer. They really didn't want to leave, but finally had enough of the noisy machine. We can't decide whether or not to hope they'll be back. We'd love it if they gobbled up some of the burgeoning algal mat, but we're worried they might munch our trio of Smooth Newts as well.

Mallards are probably among the UK's best-known birds, and certainly the most widely-known of the ducks. They're pretty much ubiquitous across the islands, found in ponds, lakes, broads, quags and puddles everywhere but Scotland's highest peaks. They pair up in late autumn, staying together until the female has laid her eggs. This she does sometime between mid-March and the end of July, laying one egg every other day until she has her full clutch of roughly 12. In total, they'll weigh almost half as much as she does! Well before the young have hatched, the male will go off to moult, leaving the female to raise the ducklings on her own. She too will moult as she raises her brood, losing her ability to fly for a few weeks as she does so. Maybe we'll see them again in the garden before that happens.

Crane's-bill

Dove's-foot Crane's-bill (Geranium molle)

Right now, parts of the back garden are covered with a carpet of little pink flowers surrounded by their (only slightly larger) plate-like leaves. They're the cheery blossoms of Dove's-foot Crane's-bill, one of Britain's native Geraniums. As you can see in the picture above, it's a rather hairy plant, wearing a thick, bristly coat on leaves and stems. It's named for its pointy-tipped fruits, which resemble the long, sharp beaks of cranes; these spray their seeds explosively in all directions when they're ripe. The flowers measure a mere 6–10 cm (roughly 1/4 to 1/2 inch) across. The notched petals are typically this lovely pink, though occasionally you can find a more washed-out version. The leaves are roundish, with 7–9 broad lobes. Though more common in the south, it's found right across the whole of the UK, except for Scotland's highest peaks. It's often found in cultivated areas, short grass communities and "waste places" (a joke between Mike and me, because when we met, my garden was full of what my wildflower field guide labelled "weeds of waste places"). Given that they flower from April through September, we should be enjoying their splashes of colour for months to come.

Fear no weevil

Liophloeus tessulatus

While rummaging in a flowerbed this afternoon, trying to remove some of the innumerable Ground Elder plants that are running amok, I pulled my hand out and found this little creature sitting on my thumb. It's a weevil – a surprisingly big weevil known as Liophloeus tessulatus. They're typically buff or pale brown, and often speckled, like this one is, and can be as long as 10 cm (about half an inch), which is sizeable for a weevil. When I put it back on the ground, it ambled off slowly and deliberately. Since then, I've learned that they're flightless; their tiny wings are only rudimentary. Despite this, they've managed to spread across much of the UK (though they're scarcer in Scotland), and are found from lowland meadows to mountaintops. They're likewise common across much of Europe, right up to southern Scandinavia. Like all weevils, Liophloeus tessulatus is a plant-eater. Favourite foods include Creeping Thistle, Common Nettle, Cow Parsley, Hogweed, Ivy, and Colt's-foot, all of which we have in abundance in the garden. Adults are found from spring through autumn. Females will be laying their eggs on the underside of leaves from for the next month or so. The larvae will hatch a couple of weeks later and drop to the ground, burrowing into the soil to munch on roots and rhizomes until next spring. Given that they're nocturnal, I guess I was lucky to have disturbed it. Though they're undoubtedly common here (given the perfect buffet we're providing) this is the first time we've seen one; it's a new addition to the list!

Pied Shield Bug

Pied Shield Bug (Tritomegas bicolor)

While poking around the garden in search of new arrivals the other morning, I came across this handsome little creature trundling along one of the iris leaves near the entrance gate. It's a Pied Shield Bug (Tritomegas bicolor), one of the more striking members of its family. Smaller than most of its relatives, it's sometimes mistaken for a ladybird. Like many other shield bugs, it's a herbivore; it sticks its strawlike mouthparts into Black Horehound (Ballota nigra) and various dead-nettle species and sucks out the juices. It's found (often on the ground) in hedgerows and gardens, and along the edges of woodland – areas where its host plants occur. Common throughout much of southern England and Wales, it is rarer northwards, and missing entirely from Scotland and Ireland. Elsewhere in the world, it's found across Europe and North Africa, east to central Asia. Unlike many insect mothers, the female Pied Shield Bug is an attentive parent. She builds a shallow scrape nest in the soil, lays her eggs in it, and then stands guard over them for the three weeks it takes them to hatch, rotating the eggs occasionally with her head. Once the young have hatched, she leads them to an appropriate food plant. Though adults may be seen year-round, April to August is said to be the best time to look for them. Given that we have both Black Horehound and Red Dead-Nettle in abundance here in the garden, that means we should be seeing them for months.

Speedwell

Ivy-leaved Speedwell  (Veronica hederifolia)

Dotted liberally throughout the lawn at the moment are the small, hairy leaves and tiny purplish-blue flowers of Ivy-leaved Speedwell (Veronica hederifolia). It's a persistent little annual, typically making its first appearance sometime in March, and flowering right through to the end of the summer. A low, sprawling plant, it often forms low mats and seldom reaches heights of more than a few inches. It particularly likes well-drained soil and full sun, so it's finding many more favourable sites in the garden, now that we've lost a few of our large trees. Native to Eurasia, it's common right across Britain on cultivated and disturbed ground (including pathways and roadsides). As a common weed of agricultural fields, it has been widely introduced elsewhere around the world. The flowers are tiny – a mere 2-4 mm (considerably less than 1/4-inch) wide – so they attract only the smallest pollinators. The fruits, when they develop later in the year, are little four-chambered pods. They're not much to look at in the "showy" department perhaps, but rather handsome up close. And yet another native species on the list.

Grape Hyacinth

Armenian Grape-hyacinth (Muscari armeniacum cultivar)

Once, long ago, someone planted Armenian Grape-hyacinth (Muscari armeniacum) in the garden here. It has long since "slipped its bonds", and has seeded itself all over the property. The short spikes of little, bell-shaped, purple flowers are muscling up through the quickly growing grass, straining through cracks in the flagstoned area near the house, and dotting the edges of flowerbeds everywhere. With their prolific – and early – flowers, they're a favourite of early pollinators like the little Dark-edged Bee-flies (one snapped visiting the flowers above) and the noisy Hairy-footed Flower Bees. As the name suggests, it originated in the eastern Mediterranean region, from Greece and Turkey to the Caucasus (including Armenia). It was first introduced to English gardens towards the end of the 19th century, and has proved very popular with gardeners since. It's hardy and perennial, with a pleasant grape-like scent to the flowers, and spikes that can grow up to 8 inches (20 cm) tall. The bulbs bloom in mid-spring and flower for weeks. Though the foliage dies back once flowering is done, the leaves grow again by mid-autumn, and provide a touch of green all through milder winters. It grows best in full sun (not unexpected for a Mediterranean plant), but flowers longest in shade, and prefers well-drained soils. Needless to say, it's quite happy with the sandy soils we have here. Given its popularity with the local invertebrates, long may it continue to thrive!

Chickweed

Common Chickweed (Stellaria media)

Spring has most definitely sprung in our corner of England, with hundreds of Common Primrose and Sweet Violets blooming in the lawn, Daffodils nodding on the bank along the edge of the property and Common Whitlowgrass waving gaily on the drive. And twinkling among the burgeoning grass clumps and weedy flowerbeds are dozens and dozens of the little white stars of Common Chickweed (Stellaria media). Native to Eurasia, this low, spreading plant has conquered the world, and is now found on every continent except Antarctica. Here in the UK, it's one of the commonest weeds in cultivated or otherwise disturbed areas. Though its flowers appear to have ten petals, they actually have only five – just five very deeply split ones. You can just make out the trio of styles (part of the flower's ovary) in the centre of the blossom; this is an important ID feature. Another key feature is a neat line of hairs that run up one side of the plant's stem. At every leaf node, the hairs change sides. (The picture below shows one of these lines of hairs.) Its leaves are oval and opposite, and its weak stems can be up to 40cm (nearly 16 inches) long. In warmer parts of its range, it's a perennial, but here it's an annual. As its name suggests, Common Chickweed was once used as feed for chicken and caged birds. In our garden, the Common Woodpigeons have been feasting on them. Humans can have a nibble too; the leaves can be eaten raw or stir-fried. 

Note the distinctively neat line of hairs

Polecat

European Polecat (Mustela putorius)

Last month, following nearly a week of snow and wind and bitter cold, I went out to the shed / garage / workshop to check that it had come through the storm okay and discovered a big hole in the ceiling. Plasterboard and tufts of insulation were scattered all across the furniture and boxes, and a sizeable puddle was growing below the gaping hole. Mike and I gathered broom and dustpan, and tidied up, blaming the new opening on melting snow somehow getting through the main roof. The next day, Mike went out to check for a resurgence of the puddle, and found intriguing evidence that something might be in the garage. A sleeping pad had been knocked off its shelf and chewed. The cover to the chainsaw blade had been carted halfway across the garage. On many shelves and benches, things were in subtle disarray—some shifted a few inches, others completely upended. We carefully searched, expecting perhaps a rat, and found nothing. Undeterred, Mike baited our live trap with some cat food. The following morning, when he checked, he found not a rat, but this lovely female European Polecat. What a surprise! We can only assume that she followed a rat or mouse (both of which we've seen on the property) into the roof of the shed, fell through a section of damaged plasterboard, and couldn't climb back up to get out again.

Polecats are only recently re-establishing themselves in Norfolk, where (like elsewhere in the UK) they had been heavily persecuted by farmers and the pheasant shooting brigade. They're relentless and efficient predators, often killing far more than they can eat at any one time and caching the leftovers for later consumption. They're wary, shy, and primarily nocturnal, so most people's only sighting of them is squashed by the side of the road. Despite their small size, they can range over enormous areas—up to 3-4 kilometres per night while hunting. Their territories, which are not strongly defended, can cover more than 1200 acres. Females have litters of 3-7 kits, giving birth sometime from March to June; we're hopeful ours didn't have any kits yet, since she would have been away from them for more than two days. While we'd love to have a polecat on the property, we worried about our neighbours' chickens—and what they might do if they caught her in their chicken shed. So we took her down the road a bit, to a quieter area where there should be plenty for her to eat. Given the distance they'll roam, she was probably back here before we were! The video below shows her scampering to freedom.

Bramble Finch

Brambling (Fringilla montifringilla), male

This winter, we've revelled in the presence of a small group of these handsome birds, which have spent the past few months nibbling the seeds of Buddleia bushes in the back garden. They're Bramblings (Fringilla montifringilla), finches that spend the winter here in Great Britain (and widely elsewhere across Europe and Asia). They'll be leaving us soon, heading back to the forests of the northern Palearctic where they breed, from Scandanavia right across to the Pacific Ocean. By the time the males get there, the rusty edges of the feathers on their heads and backs will have worn away, rendering them black-headed and black-backed. The number seen here in the UK varies wildly from year to year, depending on food supplies and weather on the continent. Some years, there can be as few as 45,000 here. Some years, there can be nearly 2 million! This was apparently a good year across the country, with birders reporting them in gardens everywhere. While they're with us, Bramblings are almost exclusively seed-eaters—reportedly particularly fond of beech mast. In the summer, on the other hand, they'll feed primarily on insects. We're sad to see them go, as they've been a bright spot in this dreary winter, but we also know that their departure is a sign of impending spring. Yahoo!

Female

Rough Woodlouse

Common Rough Woodlouse (Porcellio scaber)

When I reached the top of the stairs in the house the other day, I found this little fellow trundling across the carpet—a long way from any of the "damp corners" that these tiny crustaceans typically prefer. It's a Common Rough Woodlouse, a relative of the lobsters and shrimps of the sea and the second woodlouse species for the property. After scooping it up for a few photos, I put it out into our very damp garden, where it will hopefully thrive. When I examined it closely, it was easy to see that it was quite different from the Common Pill Woodlouse we found in October. For one thing, it has a flanged "skirt" all around the edges of its body. And it can't roll itself into a tight armoured ball. It's covered with rough little nubbins on its plates, and has larger eyes than the Common Pill Woodlouse does. Plus it has two spiky uropods sticking out the back. Woodlice use those uropods to help shed water (eg. raindrops) from their bodies; they hold the two uropods together and press them repeatedly against the ground until all of the water has drained off. This is one of the most common species of woodlouse in England and Wales—and the species most likely to enter houses. It is found in a wide variety of habitats, including some which are slightly drier than those preferred by other woodlouse species (including upstairs carpets, perhaps?). Like all of Britain's woodlice, it's primarily a vegetarian. Surprisingly, these small creatures can live two or three years, so maybe we'll be seeing our visitor again some day.