Having confidently declared autumn up and running in my last blog, we found ourselves enjoying a mini Indian Summer last week. Everyone, and everything, seemed to come out to enjoy the sun.
Little troupes of mushrooms suddenly appeared in the garden. They crept stealthily out from under trees and a few, bolder types, marched confidently across the front lawn. One hardy clump of stinking ink caps emerged through the tarmac on the drive. The only place they have studiously avoided is the dedicated mushroom log which has been shunned by shiitake. Over in Selkirk, on a walk around the Haining, we found giant clusters climbing up the trees, like untidy armadillos. Professor David says these are just the fruiting edges of vast underground organisms. Gulp.
There seem to be more herons around than usual. We ran into several down by the Tweed last week, just lurking in the stubble. One, down by the river bank, let me get much closer than usual. I wonder if these are younger ones who have yet to develop the full disappointed dowager demeanour? Today, walking through the woods along the side of the Leet, we heard a tremendous racket of bellowing and mooing. We scuttled down to the little bridge to see what was what and found Ivor reprising the role of Moses, leading his herd under the bridge and over to the promised land on the other side. One of this year’s calves had decided he (or she) had found a better shortcut and had somehow managed to get itself in a thoroughly awkward position in a twiggy thicket half way up the opposite bank. After much parental exhortation it wriggled free, plopped down into the stream and ran to catch up with the exodus. As we watched, two herons came out of the trees and flew either side of the stragglers, for all the world as if they were herding them on.
Lyra continues to develop in confidence, though there have been a few ups and downs. We had a few wobbly days last week after an unlucky encounter with a tractor, a pick up and 8 cyclists on the same, usually deserted, road. After that she slowed down to a crawl and was constantly looking over her shoulder until we turned off to the narrow track between the trees. Thankfully, there were a few squirrels and young pheasants to chase which perked her up no end and she even managed to get herself down into the stream for a slurp and a paddle (and out again). The riverside remains a favourite romp and Lyra’s beginning now to greet and play with other dogs on the way round. On a yomp round the fields on Friday she surprised me by taking herself off the path and having a mad old run, full tilt, across the stubble. It was lovely to see; I had feared she might never feel safe enough to run free as she did in the old days. I’m not sure what set her off but the hare by the hedge seemed to conclude she was no risk. She sat quite calmly watching Lyra kick up her heels for a little while before ambling away, in no rush. I was a little worried the other day that Lyra’s confidence in the garden might be shaken as she managed to step off the bridge into the top pond during a little explore. However, there seems to have been no harm done and she continues to pootle around contentedly (I am, nonetheless considering a few design tweaks to deter further diving experiments). Yesterday madam was hugely proud of herself for finding a young hedgehog on the back lawn. She positively swaggered back in for dinner.
At last the butterflies are making their presence felt. Orchard windfalls are attracting all sorts of showy fellows. I’ve seen plenty of peacocks and red admirals and Keith claims to have seen a large black and white job (though no photographic evidence of this has been provided). In the flower garden, sedum and rudbeckia are covered with little ringlets and reddish brown dragonflies (my old friend Dr G. Oogle advises these are called common darters). I don’t think I have noticed them before. I wonder what’s brought them out?
We had a huge crop of Victoria plums this year but an unfortunate jam incident, combined with wasp predations, meant that all we got out of them was one measly tatin! The early apples and vegetable garden have been much more reliable. We had such a surplus of red apples and beans that I took myself down to the community larder with a basketful. By the look of the shelves, everyone else in the village did the same! They are having a juice pressing day so that should use up the apples but lord knows what will happen to all the runner beans.
The abundance of haws and berries in the hedgerows suggests it may be a cold back end, so we are determinedly making the most of these last few days of almost summer, wandering in the woods and sitting out by the fire pit watching out for bats. Perversely, it may take a turn for the worse in the weather to actually make me shake a leg and get on with putting the garden to bed! Still, carpe diem…
