Before the adoption of the Gregorian calendar in 1752, what is now our May 1st fell eleven days later, on May 12th. However, whitethorns don't operate according to a calendar, and so haven't adapted to bring the height of the may season in line with our current May Day. And this year, following the late cold snap, they've flowered even later than usual. So, although I'd seen some whitethorn in blossom in Ashburton as early as April 15th, on 1st May the whitethorns up in the somewhat exposed field of the hollowing oak and out on the farmland at Brentry were still a long way off flowering.
In fact, it wasn't until well into the second week of May that they started to blaze ... and even now, although the display is extraordinary, it's clear there are still more flowers to come.
Whitethorn on Charlton Common ...
... on the footpath by the cutting ...
... out on the land that is under development ...
... in the Field of the Hollowing Oak
Even the often dreary Small Dark Wood of the Mind and associated glades have become beautiful, their smell as intoxicating as Burne Jones' depiction of Broc
éliande in the painting
'The Beguiling of Merlin' - at least, how I imagine it would smell.
In fact, together with the profusion of cow parsley, both field and wood would give the White Garden at Sissinghurst a run for its money.
I could end my post here in a dizzying haze, but other wildflowers and trees have been blooming too, gloriously.
From the left, clockwise, in a spiral: hogweed leaf; crab apple blossom; cream-coloured buttercups; pignut, bugle and buttercups; lesser stitchwort; moon daisy; dog rose; red, white and a hybrid pink campion; vetch and cow parsley; alkanet, alexanders and cleavers; an anthill decorating itself with creeping cinquefoil; birdsfoot trefoil; cutleaf cranesbill; buttercup and red clover; cuckoo flower/lady's smock; lords and ladies/cuckoo pint
The last of the bluebells
'Tell us a story, Grampa Hogweed!' cried all the little pignuts.
The male goat willow by the bus stop, which was such a sight in March, has settled down, only for the trees behind it to come into their own ...
... while a female goat willow has been growing her own later catkins in the skylarks' field.
Further out on the farmland, my favourite field maple has burst into life ...
... and in the Field of the Hollowing Oak, the oak is wearing the early morning sun like a diamond ...
... and even the smallest oaks are dew-washed.
As usual, the presence of fauna is mostly indicated by signal, rather than actual sighting - for example, oak apples and woolly oak galls speak of gall wasps ...
... while I think this is a winter pupa (maybe small tortoiseshell as it's on stinging nettles) that looks like it's been attacked by fly parasite.
Other indications have included rabbit droppings and fox poo, which necessitated a hosing down.
'My favourite band is Oasis', says Cwtch, 'And my favourite song of theirs is "Roll In It".
A rather more exciting find was camera trap in the skylarks' field, which is triggered when an animal - such as this out-of-focus badger-coloured dog - crosses in front of an infrared beam. I'd noticed a hollow that looks like a tunnel in front of the tree before ...
... and it all ties in with the sett across the field in a dip by the cutting that I now think of as Badger's Bottom.
Somehow, though, I doubt the presence of badgers will be enough to curtail any development ...
' ... Talking of which,' says Cwtch, 'I know everything depends on the wheelbarrow, but surely they're going to need more than one.'
Insects that have stayed still long enough to be photographed have been mainly green and shiny, while butterflies have mostly buzzed us as we toil uphill along the hedgerows. TOP: 1. Greenbottle 2. Green dock beetles 3. Thick-thighed beetle
BOTTOM: 4. Speckled wood 5. Common brimstone 6. Orange-tip (really ... it's that white splot against shadow, middle of the photo, almost directly above right side of Cwtch's head.)
A member of one species that left its signal next to the rookery ...
... but which is seen and definitely heard most times I'm up the field is this rook, which has possibly been listening too closely to the local foxes. Best of all, though, the transmutation from hoof prints to roe deer sunning itself out on the farmland a few days ago. You might just glimpse it in the video.
I didn't go any closer as Cwtch hadn't spotted it and I was concerned there might be a pregnant doe or a fawn down in the hedgerow where they spend the summer.
Last of all, there have been some sunsets on less cloudy days. It always disappoints me how quickly the sun moves along the hills, here in South Wales but mornings, from my bedroom window, along the edge of the Cotswolds. It's so calming watching the sun set and rise, I want to hold onto them for as long as possible.
The rookery
On the footpath over the golf course
'That's all, folks!'
