The ones that got away

Tags

bird photography, goldcrest, isle of skye, The Anxious Gardener

I love watching birds which visit the garden. The bird feeder and the bird table are all positioned in a way that means I can look on whilst I’m in the kitchen, washing up or sat at the table writing. I have been known to settle down to work in the kitchen with some binoculars next to me. It doesn’t do much for productivity levels though. The mild weather we’ve had this winter had resulted in very quiet bird feeders but the ice and snow of the last week has meant bird numbers in the garden have rocketed. There were seven starlings at one point crammed on to my tiny bird table and I’ve never seen so many chaffinches.

I’m a bit wary of feeding the birds and encouraging them into the garden when I know there are so many cats in the neighbourhood. Although my feeders are out of reach of bird snaffling moggies there are some birds that don’t like to feed from them and much prefer scrabbling around on the ground for seeds dropped from above. It’s always sad when I come across birds deposited by the house by said cats; they could at least take them back to their owners so they get the dubious pleasure of disposing of the feathered corpses, instead of me.

We don’t get a vast array of bird species visiting the garden which is disappointing. Typically we’ll see house sparrows, tits, blackbirds, starlings and robins. The bad winter of 2010 was pretty special with bramblings, blackcap, field fayre and redwings. The bird guide was perched on the kitchen window sill we had so many birds I’d never seen before. But this, it seems, was a one-off. I guess it’s because we don’t have the right plants and habitat the birds want. Neighbouring gardens prefer the ‘minimal’ look (just lawn), or plants such as cordylines for which I have developed an increasing dislike. They just seem so out of place in a rural Welsh garden and offer nothing to the local wildlife.

My quest has been, for several years now, to try to capture the visiting birds on camera but it has proved surprisingly difficult. The bird table is mounted on the side of the house and it’s possible to get photos of the birds through the window but ,generally, by the time I’ve got the camera they are gone. I’ll wait a while in the hope they’ll return but since I don’t get paid to watch birds I’ll eventually resign myself to getting on with the day. I know though that as soon as my back is turned the birds are ready, waiting to return just like the roller-skating pandas on the Kit-Kat advert.

I’ve tried to stealthily watch them from the shed with my camera primed. The shed is situated opposite their prime perching and feeding spot, my crab apple tree, and with the zoom I should be able to get some decent shots. That would be if they didn’t all vanish whilst I’m standing there in the freezing cold. I spent an hour in my shed last winter trying to get photos of goldfinches. A huge flock of them had been visiting regularly, that was until I entered the garden. I guess they didn’t want to get papped. It’s not me though, I’m convinced they know I have a camera  You see, I can go about by normal jobs, sorting out the recycling, depositing vegetable waste on to the compost heap and collecting wood from the log pile and they don’t bat an eyelid, feeding happily as I wander past. As soon as I’m there with the camera, WHOOSH and they’re gone, with just a lone feather slowly floating down in front of me. That’s the thanks I get for feeding them and running into the garden in the snow, in my dressing gown and wellies, flailing my arms around to scare off the prowling cats. You’d think the least they could do would be pose for the occasional shot.

To quick for me

Even if a bird does linger long enough for me to take a photograph invariably it’s out of focus or the light is rubbish. I’ll admit that these are due to my lack of skills and aren’t the bird’s fault.

Outside the garden, when I’m out walking, I’m no more successful. I had the perfect opportunity to get a beautiful photograph of a robin on a snow covered branch yesterday but we’d just put the camera away in case we slipped on the icy path. Unzipping the bag and removing the camera from its case and then dropping the case on the floor, unsurprisingly, scared off the robin. Occasionally a bird will oblige. There was an incredibly fearless chaffinch that ate crushed up oatcakes from our table when we were on holiday on the Isle of Skye. The bribe of oatcakes meant it lingered long enough for photos. Then there was the Great skua or bonxie which was happy to pose. Although it stayed in the same spot for a good 30 minutes and I did wonder, at one point, whether it was glued to the rock or something. It’s just a pity that such an obliging bird wasn’t a little more photogenic.

If you’d like to see how it should be done take a look at the Anxious Gardener’s blog. Not only am I envious that he got so close to a goldcrest but he even managed to capture it on camera.

The Mind Boggles!

Tags

Alan Titchmarsh, Monty Don, The Anxious Gardener

A while ago now I read a very funny post, ‘Anxious Hog’, by David at The Anxious Gardener. He had been keeping a note of some of the strange and funny search terms that people had used and, by doing so, had ended up at his blog. The statistics page is a fascinating element of writing a blog. Something I had never given any thought to when I first started writing Wellywoman. It’s intriguing to see people from far flung parts of the globe such as Pakistan, Burma and Mongolia visiting my blog. I have no idea what has brought them here, does my name confuse, if not,  I’m sure my ramblings do!

After reading David’s post I noted down a few of the more unusual search terms that came up on my own blog but then I got distracted and a million and one other things got my attention instead. That is, until the other day. A quick glance at the search terms for Monday revealed someone had come to my site using the search words ‘alan titchmarsh crotch’. Well I have to say it did make me giggle. In fact, I’m smiling now. I happen to have mentioned Mr T’s name a few times in my posts and I did write about having a hole in the crotch of my jeans when talking about the scruffy attire I can be found in when gardening. However, I don’t think I want to know why someone was specifically searching for more info on the gardening guru’s groin.

Anyway, it was my lunch break and, rather than do something useful like sorting through a pile of paperwork, I started to go through all the search terms wordpress had stored for my blog. And what an intriguing world it opened up. When I was trying to come up with a name for my blog I really didn’t give any thought to those out there with a welly fetish. It never crossed my mind, why should it? Very early on the search term ‘I’m turned on by wellies’ appeared, much to my surprise and concern. I did worry that Wellywoman had been a bad choice and I was going to attract the wrong sort of attention. Fortunately, those worries haven’t materialised. It’s quite amusing to think though, that there are some seriously disappointed people  out there, who have no doubt thought my site will offer all sorts of titillation and instead it’s me writing about my seeds not germinating and marauding slugs. There seems a particular interest to see ‘women in muddy wellies’, note the ‘muddy’ element. Well, each to their own. There have also been various searches for a selection of female gardeners, who shall remain nameless, posing topless. The page 3 gardener or lads mag equivalent of Gardens Illustrated are concepts, as yet, untried. Clearly a disappointment for some.

I was particularly fascinated by the person who felt the need to search for ‘should postmen cut across peoples gardens instead of using paths’. My imagination suggests someone seething every morning when their mail is dropped off by their garden philistine of a postie. I’m not sure what they were looking for, some piece of legislation that they could threaten he, or she with, maybe.

There was the plaintive ‘why have I got so many slugs in my garden’. It conjures up a picture of someone at the end of their tether, feeling as if they must be being punished for something in a previous life to have been subjected to plague-like proportions of slugs. I just want to give this person a virtual hug and say it’s not just you.

In one post I wrote about leaf mould being like a duvet and in another a passing mention was made to Prince Charles, who’d have thought there would be someone out there who would then come through to my blog searching for ‘prince charles doesn’t like duvets’! Why, why why?

I’m not sure whether ‘wellies in bed’ and the cryptic ‘wifes wellies filling’ are touching on the unseemly again. I’m guessing so.

And finally, my misspent lunch-break uncovered a particular fascination with Monty Don’s attire. I did write a post entitled ‘Gardening Attire’ in which I mentioned Monty and his signature blue uniform which he wears whilst gardening. Well it seems, if my blog is anything to go by, that Monty clothes generate a lot of interest, with search terms including ‘monty don smock’, ‘monty don’s blue shirt’, ‘shirts worn by monty don’, ‘monty don clothing’ and ‘where does monty get his clothes’. Maybe Monty is missing a trick. His own clothing range for gardeners, perhaps?

So, I just want to say thanks to David at The Anxious Gardener for his initial post on the subject and for a diverting way to spend a lunchtime. If you don’t already follow his blog, take a look, for witticisms, garden and wildlife related musings and ace photos.