Sunday – Leominster – After a night of rain, the sky is almost completely cloudless as the remnants disappear over the eastern horizon. The sun is bright and low in the south-east. A cool, light breeze blows from the west. By Norfolk House, the pavement is covered in large yellow leaves from the Plane tree. Onto Butts Bridge. The water level in the River Lugg continues to rise slowly. A Wren sings. The Black Poplars have lost nearly all their leaves whilst Ashes and Alders still have a large amount of foliage.
Into the Millennium Orchard. Red and orange Lady’s Fingers seem to be taunting me high on the tree. Still not enough are falling to make collection worthwhile. Into the park. The trees are lit by the sun, though many are still dripping with rainwater. Robins sing. A Blue Tit searches the leafless Elders, branches green with lichen. The water level in the Kenwater has also risen. The Minster Bells toll the hour then ring out the morning prayer.
Into the churchyard where Beeches are glowing in the sun. Grey Squirrels seem to be everywhere, some digging holes, others chasing each other across the grass and up the trees.
Home – The French Climbing and Runner Beans are stripped and removed. The tall fronds of asparagus have toppled and are cut down. The remaining courgette plants are pulled, one last courgette harvested. Out come the rogue tomatoes, the spreading kind that are close to the original Mexican wild tomatoes. There are many small green fruits on them which I remove although I am not sure what I will do with them. All the foliage goes into the compost bins. Sadly, the leeks seem to have disappeared, probably pigeons. The bed has some very large rogue potato plants. I will leave them until the frost gets them and then see if there is anything underneath. A large carrot and beetroot are dug for dinner.
Wednesday – Bodenham Lake – Sunshine glares off of the road still saturated from last night’s rain. Through the village. Overhead skeins of yelping Canada Geese wiffle to lose height as they descend on the lake. Into the car park. Spindle leaves are turning deep red. Chaffinches feed by the track. Half a toadstool rises out of the grass. It takes an age to identify. It appears to be a Rose-gilled Grisette or Stubble Rosegill, Volvopluteus gloiocephalus. Its common and scientific names have changed several times which does not help and whilst there are some photographs on the Internet which look exactly like this one, the picture shown in Roger Phillips usually excellent guide looks nothing like it. Dark clouds sweeping obscuring the sun. The east end of the lake is largely empty just a winter plumage Great Crested Grebe. The sound of chain saws comes from the western end.
Onto the meadow. Westfield Wood is a glorious mêlée of gold, brass and copper. Into the hide. A large number of Canada Geese and Greylags are across the water. Six Grey Herons, a number of Mallard and several Cormorants are on the spit. Several Shovelers and possibly Teal are on the far bank, although it is hard to be certain at this distance and, as usual, I have not brought my scope. Closer, a couple of Moorhens stalk around the scrape. A Eurofighter Typhoon roars over. The chainsaws are cutting down a tree beyond the west end of the lake.
Back into the Alder plantation. Fungi have emerged on rotting logs. Large numbers are Fairy Inkcap mushrooms Coprinellus disseminatus, which are also known as Trooping Crumble Caps, Glistening Inkcap, Coprinellus micaceus, Smoky Bracket, Bjerkandera adusta and Varicoloured Bracket (or Turkeytail or Many-zoned Polypore), Trametes (or Coriolus) versicolor. Up to the meadow where there are no fungi. Mycologist Richard Fortey considers there may be two reasons for this; firstly, improved grassland is over fertilised which fungi do not like or conversely unimproved grass that is not cut grows rank and coarse which is also unsuitable for many fungi. Into the cider apple orchard. It appears that the apples have still not been collected and are beginning to rot. There is still a surprising absence of winter thrushes here. A Great Tit calls from a leafless apple tree.
Back along the Gloucester road where a large flock of corvids, mainly Rooks, are on the hillside pasture.
Home – I am still trying to persuade Rhode that she is not hatching eggs, with little success. The other two have laid this morning, so I block off the nests and leave the back hatch open. This does not seem to dissuade her much. Some of Kay’s newly planted bulbs have been removed and left on the path, presumably by Grey Squirrels. She resows them and I cut up some wire mesh and place the pieces over the soil to keep them off. It is half past four in the afternoon and getting rather dark.
breeze blows from the west. By Norfolk House, the pavement is covered in large yellow leaves from the Plane tree. Onto Butts Bridge. The water level in the River Lugg continues to rise slowly. A Wren sings. The Black Poplars have lost nearly all their leaves whilst Ashes and Alders still have a large amount of foliage.
the scrape. A Eurofighter Typhoon roars over. The chainsaws are cutting down a tree beyond the west end of the lake.