What Happens When You Kiss A Frog?

Kiss me, Froggie, Froggie, kiss me,

Thrill me, Froggie, Froggie, thrill me.
Don't care even if I blow my top,
But, Froggie, Froggie, don't stop!

I'd like to play a little game with you,

A little game especially made for two.

If you come close then I will show you how,

Closer, closer, now.

Kiss me, Froggie, Froggie, kiss me,

Thrill me, Froggie, Froggie, thrill me.

Don't care even if I blow my top,

But, Froggie, Froggie, don't stop!

We've never played this little game before,

If you relax then you'll enjoy it more.

Just settle down and let me teach you how,

Closer, closer, now.

Kiss me, Froggie, Froggie, kiss me,

Thrill me, Froggie, Froggie, thrill me.

Don't care even if I blow my top,

But, Froggie, Froggie, don't stop!

But, Froggie, Froggie, don't stop!

You kiss so well my lips begin to burn,

And I can tell I've got a lot to learn.

So hold me close and darling show me how,

Closer, closer, now.

Kiss me, Froggie, Froggie, kiss me,

Thrill me, Froggie, Froggie, thrill me.

Don't care even if I blow my top,

But, honey, honey, don't stop!

Don't care even if I blow my top.

But, Froggie, Froggie, don't stop,

Never stop!

The first official day of Spring for this year is 20th March. However, the warmer temperatures of the past few days have heated the shallows of our ponds, thus enabling the frogs to spawn one week earlier than in the previous two years. Enjoy the video of their antics...and turn up the volume to hear, amidst the cacophony of barking dogs, passing traffic and serenading birdsong, the amazing motorbike drone of the frog chorus at Barleycorn.

Coming In From The Cold

An unexpected fall of snow recently caused chaos in the London area, closing many schools and offices and bringing all the traffic in the centre of the city to a standstill. However, the heavy snowfall brought pleasure to hundreds of children who enjoyed several days of extra holidays during which they built snowmen, played on sledges with their friends and lay on their backs making snow angels. Four hundred miles further north, we Scots wondered what all the fuss was about as we cope with snowstorms several times every Winter. Last night was no exception, for, as I drew the curtains before bedtime, a blizzard of snow began swirling outside. As if by magic in a matter of moments, everything in the garden was transformed as a carpet of snowflakes fluttered down. I put out the light wondering if we'd be snowed in today.

This morning, however, a beautiful blue sky greeted me and a song thrush was serenading from the top of my Swedish birch tree. Pulling on a warm sweater and trousers, I grabbed my camera, determined not to miss an opportunity. As I took a photo of the snow on the barn roof, my mind went back to a cold night in January, when an unexpected visitor paid Taz and Cookie a visit.

It was suppertime for the cats, but, instead of running to us for cuddles, Taz and Cookie were out of their cosy nests mewing, and looking more than a little disconcerted. Suddenly, without a sound, a large expanse of wings flew over our heads and crossed from one end of the barn to the other. Looking up, my hubbie and I saw a beautiful Tawny owl. Walking over to the cats, we stroked them to stop them mewing and calm them down. Clearly, they had never seen an owl in the barn before.

Although we have seen a few Tawny owls and Barn owls, and even a Little owl, during the eighteen years we have lived here, they are not seen on a regular basis. We do hear Barn owls screeching during the night. But, mostly we find their pellets scattered around the garden rather than regular sightings of them. Apart from the Little owl, which sometimes flies during the day, they are nocturnal creatures and come out to feed when most of us are indoors for the night. Tawnies are the owls which have the 'twit twoo' calls, the owls in our Nursery Stories - pretty owls with large, beautiful, dark eyes on their faces.

Once the cats had calmed down, I ran indoors for my camera. I hoped the Tawny would stay long enough for me to catch a few pictures without disturbing it too much. I need not have worried. As it turned out, it was reluctant to leave the shelter of the barn and we had to leave the doors open all night to allow it to fly free before morning. It never called out once. Apparently the 'twit twoo' is a duet between the male and female. They bond for life and both share in feeding the brood with the male going solo for the first 21 days. Our visitor simply flew forwards and backwards, across the barn. I knew there would be plenty of mice and shrews to feed on as Taz catches mice and the occasional shrew several times a week.

As I passed the log-pile, I wondered how many insects were snug and dry underneath, for, even the snow can act like a carpet and keep bulbs warm too. Our bulbs are showing above the earth and peeping from the pots and troughs. After the blizzard I thought there would have been a heavier covering of snow, but, the storm had obviously subsided quickly.

Winter sunshine makes for great contrasts between the pristine white of the snow-laden branches against the cerulean blue of the sky. So strong was the sun, that I had to be careful to avoid the constant drip, drip, drip of the melting snow which accompanied me on my walk around the garden under the trees.

At this time of year in spite of the snow, I always feel optimistic, for, it is not the onset of dark December chilling my bones and making me dread a long Winter ahead, but, that of March, instead, with the promise of the coming Spring. The snow on the Dawn rose merely looked pretty and fresh and transient. It would be gone all too soon, so, savour it and enjoy its fleeting visit, I reminded myself.

True to form, Taz accompanied me, even walking across the frozen pond to sniff under stones. His antics reminded me of our third surprise visitor when we had had the snowfall in January. It had been a relatively cold snap with temperatures well below zero, and little sunshine to warm the days. I had been standing looking out of the window, not thinking of anything in particular, when, suddenly, there he was...a beautiful fox.

Not having noticed me at the window, he was heading towards me, quite at peace with the world. I stared, transfixed, at his white chest, his beautiful reddish-auburn coat and his long, bushy brush cocked at an angle. Suddenly, he looked up and caught sight of me looking at him. The moment our eyes met, he turned instinctively, while I grabbed my ever-ready camera...and just managed to catch on shot of him as he trotted back the way he had come. In a flash, he was over the stone-dyke wall quicker than you could say, 'The quick, brown fox jumps over the lazy dog'.

Snowdrops, true to their name, have come through the snow once again to greet the Spring. We have many posies of them, creating little drifts here and there under the birch trees and shrubs in the little area in the garden I refer to as my woodland.

The blue hepaticas are in bloom too, with their dainty little heads. they are winners in my book, though I must say their leaves suffer in the bitter winds and always looked bruised.

In an area which borders the adjacent field at the back of the house, we have a high bank which I have been filling with snowdrops for several years now. They do well here and precede the daffodils which die back in time for the carpet of poppies, cornflower and marigolds to come through. We have a never-ending battle with couch grass in this area, so the wildflowers seem to naturalise everything and compete well with the pernicious grass.

Today, the snow was heavy on the snowdrop heads. But, they will be standing to attention tomorrow again. I always feel something of the miracle of nature in seeing snowdrops surviving the blasts of Winter. In my garden they come out before the daffodils, so they tend to be my favourite Spring bulbs.

Having said that, the yellow aconites are a joy to behold each year. I particularly like to see their little, golden cups of sunshine facing upwards and outwards towards the light and the warmth of the sun's rays.

Hellebores are exciting to have in any garden. I have two different varieties, ones with pale cream petals and green centres and a second variety with deep wine petals. Regardless of snow, they also come up trumps.

We have several colours of crocuses growing under shrubs and trees. The orangey-yellows are the first to appear followed by the purple and blue-striped. Today a cock blackbird was competing with his yellow bill.

Round the front of the house, well away from the piping blackbird, giving out his alarm call to warn the other birds, Taz had jumped onto a favourite window-sill to settle down for a spot of sunbathing.

At the back of the house, in the adjacent field, a cacophony was coming from a murder of crows, no doubt squabbling over grain and insects, and whose turn it was in the pecking order.

The artesian well has filled up over the Winter months, despite the efforts of the farmer to drain it over the years, creating interest for the birds and insects bold enough to be up and about.

I looked across the fields and felt glad to be alive, to be savouring the joys of the coming Spring, relishing the sight of the bulbs which have survived the ravages of Winter, and laughing at the antics of the newborn lambs gambolling in the sunshine and bleating to me from their world across the snow.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~Charles Dickens

A Surprise Visitor to Barleycorn

On the weekend of the RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch, my hubbie replenished the feeders with peanuts and wild-bird seed, hung several fat-balls from the birch trees and prepared the bird-table with a mountain of scraps, in order to attract as many of our feathered friends as possible.
There’s always great excitement when, on red-letter days, a buzzard, or a sparrowhawk, or a great-spotted woodpecker make an appearance in the garden…and, equally, disappointing when they are absent on the official Garden Birdwatch.
Imagine our great surprise then, when, during the hour in which we were ‘doing the count’, a huge pheasant flew over the stone-dyke wall into the garden. Suddenly, our focus shifted onto this large, hen-size bird.
There is open countryside adjacent to the back garden at Barleycorn and mixed woodland bordering the field, and in this area pheasants are common on game farms where they are reared for commercial shooting…hence two possible reasons for his appearance. Not that we haven’t seen one in the garden before, for we sometimes find one korkk-korkking on the wall when one of the cats is nearby.

Phasianus Colchicus, better known as the common pheasant, is not native to Britain.
Some sources claim pheasants were first introduced 2000 years ago when the Romans invaded Britain. Others claim they were brought here with the Normans in the 11th Century. One fact appears to be indisputable. They originated in western Asia.

This male probably came into the garden because it was attracted by the overspill of seeds from the feeders and the fat-balls, which hang from the birches bordering the adjacent field. Pheasants and other game-birds often keep to the margins of the field where the stone-dyke wall, which borders the entire field, affords them shelter and camouflage.

As you can see he is very colourful, with a dark-green face and red wattles, and a body and tail of rich chestnut, with golden-brown and black patterns. We were transfixed, for he looked as if he was wearing Joseph's technicolour-dreamcoat on this otherwise dull day in January with the garden looking somewhat drab in tone, while awaiting its Spring coat.

He wandered around with his long tail cocked up at an angle. At first, the smaller birds flew upwards but soon settled down again when they realised he was only interested in feeding on the seeds, and not on them.

After he’d had enough seeds he strutted across to the rockery and pecked at a few shoots on the lithospermum, pictured in one of the photographs below. It is a heather-like plant, which comes in beautiful Gentian-blue shades and has a lovely trailing habit, covering slopes in the scree bed.

On our bird count sheet, we had to note down the largest number - of each species - we saw together at any one time during the hour. Here are the totals.

Blackbird - 3; Blue tit – 8; Carrion crow – 1; Chaffinch – 17; Coal tit – 3; Collared dove – 4; Dunnock – 1; Feral pigeon – 20; Great tit – 1; Greenfinch – 1; House sparrow – 10; Jackdaw – 5; Robin – 1; Starling 14; and Pheasant - 1

It was interesting to see how easily a twiggy rhododendron shrub camouflaged his brightly-coloured plumage when he ran behind it. He felt safe enough to wander around, as I was filming, and taking photographs, indoors.

After taking a few photos, I set my camera to video mode, the results of which you can see below. There is no sound, for if I had opened the window, he, along with the rest of the birds, would have flown off.
Since then, we have seen him most days strutting about the garden picking up seeds. Taz has given him a wide berth, which is fortunate for both. There's no mistaking his presence when he starts his korkk-korkking to warn Taz, in no uncertain terms, to keep away. He is the first of three surprise visitors we have had during the past week. I shall reveal the identities of the others in the next post.

Garden Birds At Barleycorn In Winter

In spite of the clocks being changed last October, so that it would appear to be brighter in the mornings, today was the darkest one so far this winter. It looked so inky black when I looked out of the bedroom window, I thought there had been a powercut.
After Cookie and Taz, the barn cats, had been well fed, and had been for their stroll around the garden, and were well ensconced in their cosy nests in the barn, my hubbie went out and filled the bird feeders.

Within seconds the garden was filled with a variety of birds which had flown down from their roosting sites to feast on the goodies. We were both busy watching their antics , when suddenly, as if by magic, large flakes of snow came fluttering down, changing the panorama from blackness into a bright, shining landscape.
Taz suddenly re-appeared to explore the snow, but his tummy was too full by then to be bothered by the sight of twittering birds squabbling over the pecking order at the feeders. As a lover of wildlife, I appreciate the presence of the birdlife in winter when there are less insects to admire and the ponds are frozen; so I have to make doubly sure Cookie and Taz are not around when the birds are getting their feed.
In spite of the thorny question of having cats in a garden, it is still possible to encourage birds to the garden and maintain the interests of both. The main thing is to make sure the cats are well fed first, before seeing to the birds.

While the snow was falling I stood, warm and dry, just inside the back door and took a few photos. Then I did the same from the front door, and from some of the windows in the house. The snowfall was too heavy to be out walking in, while trying to balance an umbrella to keep the camera dry, and take photos.

Besides, whenever I walk around the garden, regardless of the kind of weather, Taz follows to keep me company. Cookie does the same when the weather is warm. But, being an old cat now and quite frail, she seems to feel the cold in winter and almost hibernates in her downie, which is inside the drum of an old tumble-drier in the barn.

When we go to feed her in the mornings her little head pokes out from inside the drum to greet us...and when I stroke her, she feels so warm and cosy. She used to live in a different part of the barn, but, increasingly, we found her in the drum on a rug. So, my hubbie halved a downie and made two nests, hers and Taz's.

Occasionally, they come indoors, but they prefer to be out and about, roaming freely. Though they came of their own volition to live in the barn, and were not especially chosen by us as Baby, Jaffa and Monster had been, I am very fond of them. Taz is an excellent mouser, and both are friendly and very lovable cats.

Watching the birds, as we do, from our little 'hide', through the patio windows overlooking the back garden, the birds feel safe. Taz stays away when I am indoors too, so this position gives me the opportunity to take little videos as well as photos.

This morning was no exception, as you will see from the little video below. There was no sound save for the quiet ticking of our clock. If I had opened the windows the birds would have flown away.

Happy New Year, Everyone!

xxxxx

If you are a bird lover, the Royal Society For Birds (RSPB), is giving everyone the opportunity this weekend, 24 and 25 January, to participate in the world's biggest garden birdwatch. The details are below. Enjoy...and happy birdwatching :)

http://www.rspb.org.uk/birdwatch/takepart/tips.asp
xxxxx

'He made their glowing colours, He made their tiny wings.'

from: All Things Bright And Beautiful.