The balance of Ostara

For those that don't know, tomorrow is the spring Equinox (or Ostara) also called the "vernal" equinox. So out of curiosity I looked up vernal in my latin dictionary... the closest I could find was the word "vernula" meaning 'young home-born slave'. I'm not sure I can match springtime with the word slave, but I'm certainly a slave to the spring... so much to do and so much to anticipate. But to me it's all so worth it - a single humble primrose is enough to put a smile on my face, especially after the black and white world of winter in the UK.
The spring equinox is another point in the year when day and night are of equal length. Daylight is balanced with darkness and spring begins. As it would happen, balance is also something I've been forced to consider lately - my job was in danger of taking over my life and so I put up my slack line today. Taut between two trees in the wood by the hive, to not only give me the opportunity to get some strength back in my jelly legs after a winter spent on the sofa, but also as a reminder that I need to find better balance in my life. They call it "work-life balance" but if you thoroughly enjoy what you do for a living, I think it's not such a fitting phrase. I prefer to think of it as just life balance... we each get 24 hours a day; 8 to work, 8 to sleep and another 8 to do with as we choose. I have forgotten to balance these things lately and this time of the year is perfect to redress it.
So after a heavy Saturday and Sunday morning digging and tidying up my garden at home, I headed off to the wood to do much the same there and was quietly smiling to myself when I pulled up alongside two other vehicles of friends who had arrived before me and had chosen to do the same.
Flee was keen to make some progress on the dam and recreate the pond we briefly enjoyed last year, and Simon, myself and Tracey got stuck into chopping and burning an immense pile of Rhodies to clear it before the birds decided it would be a great place to nest.
Our reward was a lip-tingling chilli soup made by the domestic goddess Tracey and a short burst of warm sunshine.
Tracey and I took a walk around marvelling at the remains of a pigeon eaten by a hawk and an enormous tree root that had left the ground and tumbled down the bank to wedge itself across the stream, upturned and topped with a huge chunk of sandy soil making it look much like an 8 foot spider on it's back with a serious orange pot belly, but making the perfect natural bridge.
Next weekend Flee plans to raise the level of the pond to the second overflow pipe and, all being well, the extra weight of the water will test the new dam, but not damage it. Slowly slowly catchee monkey, (patience is another lesson I've yet to master, but Rais is thankfully a great teacher).

Inspiration for life....

'To enter a wood is to pass into a different world in which we ourselves are transformed.' ~ Roger Deakin

Misty January

"Alba" the pigment-free pheasant

Continued clearing Rhodies and bramble on the wayleave yesterday - attempting to make space for a patch of meadow and possibly somewhere to grow more food. The wayleave runs north-south, and so gets the sun pretty much all day, which will be great for growing native fruits, nuts and berries. We cannot plant trees underneath, but we can certainly plant bushes - just need to work out a way to keep the rabbits and deer at bay until established.

New feeder "pockets" on the
fallen branch

After ferrying the hacked foliage over to the fire area, we moved up to the hive to make a few mods to the feeders and test out a method of getting the trailcam up high enough to monitor the Tawny owl box at a safe distance.
It was about this time that the shooting started - it sounded incredibly close and so I marched off thinking to myself how I might politely tell them to bugger off.  As I got closer it became clear they were in fact right on the border between ours and Bob and Rita's, so I suggested they might not have permission and they assured me they wouldn't be coming any closer, with a wave across the stream I trudged back to the hive. Only one more round to go they said and they would be done. We could hear the beaters coming down through the wood from the East and saw the odd bird break cover and make a dash for it across the wayleave towards the waiting line of guns. As the beaters got closer and closer the last remaining birds did the smart thing and all took off together, flying towards Rais on various flight paths with me stood beneath them, willing them to make it to safety. Most lived to see another day; only 23 days to go and shooting season will be over which gives us seven months of relative peace and quiet.

Male Great Spotted Woodpecker

Today's second session in the hive after some minor adjustments...
The light started better than it was last Sunday, but got progressively worse again throughout the afternoon. Thankfully the temperature was much better and I was able to sit without the heater on for quite some time.
I was also fortunate enough to see our albino pheasant again today. I saw her yesterday, on the run from the guns - thankfully today she let me shoot her with my lens instead.
Sadly I think one of my trail-cams has captured its' last image as I cannot seem to get it working again, despite drying it out and putting fresh batteries in it - at least this Great Tit found a use for it.

trailcam tit

Also saw a second tree creeper this weekend, fired a few shots off, but they were nothing special - it spends most of its' time with its' beak in the bark, so I have a number of shots of the back of it's head but not much more. Still a very pretty LBJ and one of my favourites.
In fact today was a day full of "almosts" ... I almost got a Nuthatch taking off, I almost got a woodpecker taking off and I almost got a Great Tit taking off - I'm going to blame the poor lighting of course - permitting me only a sluggish shutter speed, but it was good fun trying and of course there's always next time.

and so continues Rhodie clearance.....

First session in the new hide...

Today was the day I had planned to have my first session in the new hide; "The Hive". Unfortunately, I hadn't read my messages properly and so I arrived to find Simon on site, trashing Rhodies again. No big deal, he said, and switched to putting the perch up on the barn owl box instead - since it required two people. Very pleased with it, the perch looks really natural and a bit like an arm beckoning the birds in. With any luck it will make the box more attractive to a breeding pair as the owlets will be able to venture out of the box, pre-fledge, with a little more safety now. I'm also hoping that the knot on the tree that is directly below the box, will sprout shoots in the spring and give the birds some cover and a slight safety "netting", in case they fall.

The forest pheasant flasher

Whilst up there, Simon discovered a load of twigs inside the box which we assume were the beginnings of a squirrel's drey, as Owls don't make nests as such, so they were removed and Simon kindly left shortly afterwards; crashing around in the Rhodies and photographing wild birds from a hide don't mix at all.

So toastie I steamed the window panes

I chucked some mixed fruit, seed and nuts about the ground in front of the hide, checked the suet log holder was full and left a dead mouse out on the old tree stump (courtesy of my cat) in case there was a hungry bird of prey about. I stuck the camera through the third window and left the panes in the others for warmth and settled in for my first go at shooting from this newest hide. I was expecting a fair wait on account of Simon's activity all morning, but thankfully it was an almost immediate start with woodpeckers and nuthatches zooming down in a frenzy to get at the peanuts. They were followed by the smaller tits and a couple of Robins. I let them all feed awhile first without shooting. I wanted them to get used to the moving lens poking out of the front of the hide and not see it as something to be scared of. Then I progressed to randomly clicking the shutter whether birds where there or not. Eventually I started shooting and I'm certain I needn't have waited - the birds weren't bothered at all!

Two hot coffees and a second mug-shot soup later, and I had to resort to lighting the gas cooker to take the chill off - one open window really does change the comfort rating of the hide in Winter - soon afterwards, another wave of birds came through and a third hour was lost, camera clicking away. By this time I had the wellies off, and the burner on the floor beneath my feet, between my stool and the camera shelf - warm air rising up to my hands and face and steaming up the 3 remaining window panes - proper toastie.
A pair of blackbirds visited me one at a time and didn't stay long, unlike the two greedy male pheasants that seemed to be far less fearful than those of last winter. Male pheasants really are stunning at this time of year - so many colours and such water-logged lighting really brings them out, as it does with bluebells after rain.

the first proud male ("Flasher")

The mist made everything seem slightly eerie and mystical, but the low light was horrendous for shooting in. I juggled the ISO for a while and then reverted to timing the shutter to coincide with the moment the nuthatch pauses to check for predators. A challenging, but brilliant, first shoot. A few tweaks needed on the suet log feeder and a cushion for the stool would make life a little more comfortable. I also think that putting an old piece of underlay down on the floor would deaden the noise of me fidgeting on the stool, but most of all, I need to fill the beanbag properly; balancing a D4 and 500mm lens on a bag of apples and macaroni really isn't ideal.

and the second slightly shabbier male ("skunk") who is
a Mongolian Ring-necked pheasant - no less