I’ve spent the last few days rescuing the garden from the winter. There’s not really much to do, I just gather up fallen sticks from around the willow tree, scarify the flower beds and plant pots in preparation for the wildflower seeds I’ll plant once I’m confident the last frosts are behind us. As usual the garden robins help to ease the pain. They’ll soon start to build a nest somewhere in the tangle of vegetation I leave for wildlife, or perhaps in a hole in the brick wall of what was once a stable block. The blue tits have already lined the nest box, but will wait for warmer weather before laying eggs.
As every year, there’s a pair of magpies building a nest at the bottom of the garden. The nest is high in a mature bush and their presence this spring will again be bad news for the other birds that try to raise young in the garden. The pair has taken control of the garden; they don’t seem to mind small birds, but any unsuspecting jackdaw or rook is soon dispatched. Magpies are controversial and there are many would destroy the nest. I prefer to let nature take its course; after all they’re such magnificent birds, and would not look out of place in the most exotic tropical location. They also have the added advantage of helping to keep killer cats at bay.