Myfield in March
…dark sketchy lines of rain fleeing across the near distance…
I did not get out for over a week from the end of February to early March. My first visit of the month to MyField was on the 6th. There had been a period of sharp frosts and warm days which were followed by cold grey days with periods of rain. The mud had returned and indeed the rain had been so intense that the streams in the area were overflowing in places.
Despite the weather, the field was poised, ready to spring into life. The grass on the margins/headlands looked green and sturdy despite the mud and the increased foot traffic. The cover of bird seed plants had been mown but there was lots of activity in the surrounding hedges and the yellowhammers were shouting for their mates.
I went back the next day. The clay pit was possibly the fullest I have ever seen it. Overhead there was a buzzard calling and later I saw it searching for the thermal to glide up on but with little success. A large nest is visible in one of the trees at the pit and I wonder if that is the buzzards. In previous years there have clearly been families raised there, youngsters trying their wings and then completing first circles later in the year, continually calling to their ever-watchful parent.
Violets everywhere, except in Myfield!
Under the southern hedge Lords and Ladies, nettle and Goosegrass are making an early bid for a takeover. Goosegrass is that plant you pull bits off and stick it to the person in front of you - at least that’s what us children do. Known also as Cleavers, sticky Willy, stick-a-back and Lady’s bedstraw (and a host of other names) the young shoot tips have a mild flavour and, according to britishlocalfood.com can be used in spring soups, stews and pies. It also has a whole load of medicinal properties but you may want to proceed with caution.
Under the hedge by the road bottles are out bidding most plant life. There are glass bottles, some of which date back a few years, and the inimitable and depressing plastic bottles and cans. The small plantation that separates the northern edge of the road from the field starts to be of interest. Unfortunately our combined knowledge of trees is frighteningly poor. I am confident about the larch as I used to have one on my from lawn until it got so big it blocked out the light from our neighbours. There are several oaks, beech and ash, and on the far side, adjacent to the road, are cherries. On the field edge, a line of fir, possibly Douglas. We shall have to get better at this. Interspersed between the trees are low scruffy loose collections of blackberry bushes and the occasional blackthorn that is in flower.
The 11th was very blustery. The glass had fallen to 73/74 - it’s a French barometer and showed well into the ‘Tempete’ section - and there were intermittent heavy showers and gusts of up to 45mph. The field margins were again sodden and by the main entrance the mud continues to suck the feet in. I was surprised and pleased to find the Elve’s Bowl fungi still there on entering the field as I had not been able to find it the last couple of times. Even the piece on the wood on the other side of the ditch is still there albeit greying away nicely.
The wind kept all but the most hardy of birds at bay. The larks popped up every now and then to harmonise with their neighbours in the adjacent fields and the odd robin shouted at anything and everything from the safe depths of a hedge. It is the rooks and jackdaws that revel in this weather. They launch themselves into the air for a game of tumble, climbing up but not too far, stalling on purpose and then taking a free dive, allowing the wind to swirl it around like a child’s windmill. After a few goes at that, they get together and appear to try and outdo each other, their laughing caws and croaks bouncing off the sky, forcing you to look up.
The wind is from the south west and thus relatively warm. It is the wind from the east that really cuts and especially so here. It is said that there is nothing between this part of the county and the Russian steppes and when it turns from there it certainly feels like we get it.
Two days later we came back through MyField after a walk out to the next village. The weather was what is euphemistically called changeable, patches of blue sky punctuated by distant billows of white cumulus and lower, dark sketchy lines of rain fleeing across the near distance, one after another.
On the 16th I tried to capture various bird song for later identification. I have now discovered no matter how distinct and clear a song you might be tuned into in the field, back at home you generally hear just lots of mixed bird noise. Still, larks, yellowhammer, great tits and chaffinches could be just about made out. The blackthorn blossom brightened a visually bleak day.
It wasn’t much better when I next returned to Myfield on the 28th. It was quite windy and after a cold week and a wet few days it was dry but quite grey. The temperature was set to rise considerably tomorrow but I thought that I would believe that when it happened.
The main noise came from a large number of redwing and field fare still crocking around and scouring the fields…
A buzzard was circling in the distance over the trees at the northern end when we entered. In the adjacent field a ewe and two lambs were being collected. Down the track violets had suddenly appeared, as they have almost everywhere, except as we were to see, in Myfield. Along the stream occasional clumps of yellow flowers added brightness to the greens and browns. The stream was quite low and the noise from the conduit under the old entrance to the next field was not very loud. The main noise came from a large number of redwing and field fare still crocking around and scouring the fields presumably prior to returning to their summer residences shortly. They always seems to hang around here until quite late in the spring.
…margin between crop and headland.
The field has been treated with herbicide, the edge clearly dealt a blow to allow for the empty margin between crop and headland. The cricket bat willows are beginning to show green sprouts and the hawthorn shows a bit of green too. The hedges have received such a savage cut that we shall be lucky to see much growth for several more weeks. Under the hedge the nettles, Goosegrass and others are really taking control for the moment, as the Cow Parsley is already pushing through, getting away from their cover.
My last visit of the month, on the 30th was on the warmest March day for over 50 years. A pair of buzzard were calling to each other in the deep blue sky, one being mobbed half heartedly by a rook. A pair of jackdaws were picking over the stubble, which was soon to be planted up judging by the bags in the field on the other side of the road. I heard my first chiff chaff of the year, in fact several. There were hare in the field on the other side of the valley and the literal highlights were the fluttering of Peacock and brimstone butterflies on the field - plus a small tortoiseshell at home.
