Autumn arrives

Hotter than Spain on our beach

Autumn is here. Despite the sunshine – the beach hut thermometer recorded 30 degrees C two days ago - the close bosom-friend of the maturing sun is conspiring to change the season. The haws are ripening, the brambles are getting black and juicy and the autumn crocuses and cyclamen are out beneath the cherry tree.

 The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. *

Autumn crocuses and cyclamens

Time to prune back the shrubs and trees leaving the fuchsia magellenica to last as the bees are still feeding on its flowers.  Ballerina flowers our children called them.

Like a little dancer

Pruning one of the bigger bushes, I came across a tiny nest, its cup not much bigger than a 1p coin.

I think it must have been a goldfinch or a wren though the latter's nests are usually domed. Good luck to the industrious little architect anyway and here's hoping for a mild winter.

Cleaning out the bird boxes brought another collection of old nests, a robin's with man-made fibres woven into it. A reflection of our times.

Some time ago, our beach was threaten by erosion and the local council planted marram grass. Coarse and prone to give a bare leg a jag, it provoked outrage from the beach hut owners. Time has shown the wisdom of the move. For once the council got it right as the thick mat of roots stabilised the sands and now the area has been colonised by the tougher wild flowers - ragwort. campion, yarrow and ox-eye daisy as well as the ubiquitous nettles and plantain.

 There are even a few tiny trees taking hold- elder and sycamore. The butterflies and bees have followed in. It looks like the beach is safe from further elemental damage ere winter's storms begin.

 *Ode to Autumn