Category: in the woods

countryside · crafts & knitting · in the woods · spring

April: the greening month

Julie (little Cotton Rabbits)22 Comments

After the dull, drab, cold and wet winter months the arrival of April is a breath of fresh and delicately scented spring air.

Everywhere you look there is new growth. Suddenly the grass in the meadows is inches tall, and the canopy above the woodland is changing from a high vaulted ceiling of interlaced bare branches to a softly dappled, shimmering green layer. And there are so many more shades of beautifully fresh green splashed across the woodland floor, and along the hedgerows and the roadside verges.

The absolute highlight of April around here is the annual emerging of the bluebells. Their small flower spikes develop quickly over a few weeks, racing upwards to have their moment in the sun before the tree leaves unfurl and the woodland canopy closes over for the summer. En masse their wonderful scent is strong, but individually is beautifully delicate and so redolent of spring. It is such a privilege to sit quietly alone in a bluebell woodland, and already knowing this truth I took a snack and my knitting with me and spent the morning there, listening to the birds singing in the thickets and the tree tops and to the drone of the bees, busy making their way from one flower to the next, I had it all to myself and it was utter peaceful bliss.

At home there has been knitting too. There are always several different pairs of socks on my needles at any one time, and I often switch between them as the mood takes me, but unusually for me I have finished a full pair from start to finish this month. The pattern is Truleigh Socks by The Knitting Shed knitted in three shades of Ainsworth and Prin classic sock yarn also from The Knitting Shed. I’m also busy knitting up new samples of my rabbits, foxes, and seasonal dress and sweaters patterns as I would like to refresh the front covers of those patterns. I think I mentioned that before, but gosh it is a long slow process these days so I will no doubt be mentioning it several times more before there is anything to show for my efforts. I have however now finished and wet blocked most of the sweaters, so progress is gradually being made.

Well, here we are on the cusp of May – my most favourite month of the year (though I do often say that of October too), so I will hopefully be out and about with my camera at the orchard, to admire and adore the apple and pear blossoms, and also along the riverbank where the best cow parsley grows. So, see you again in a few weeks, until then I hope you have plenty of small pleasures to season your days with hope and happiness, J x

countryside · crafts & knitting · foxes in my garden · in the woods · spring · wildlife

March: the month of emergings

Julie (little Cotton Rabbits)34 Comments

March is one of those lovely liminal months where seasons are transitioning. Days can start with sharp frosts or sleety rain and the feel that winter still is here, or can be bathed in warm sunshine, drawing delicate scent from early blossom and bright bird song from the tree tops. The change from winter to spring is never a smooth linear transition, it is more like the ebb and flow of waves on an incoming tide, each one advancing just a little higher up the beach and March days feel just like this, each one advancing just a little more towards warmth and regrowth and lengthening daylight.

At the beginning of the month the first hedgerow blossoms were opening on the wild cherry plum trees and here at home on our damson plum tree which looked gloriously beautiful and gave great delight for a week. Now, as the end of the month draws near, it is the turn of the blackthorn blossoms. Blackthorn or sloe bushes flower on bare stems with the new foliage opening after the blossoms have faded. This makes for such a beautiful sight, with white clouds of blossom lining the roads and field margins.

The first green shoots of new leaf growth are gradually opening on many of the trees and aconites, anemones and daffodils are blooming under this gradually greening canopy. And this coming Sunday the clocks go forward an hour, which always brings delight, as the lengthening days mean that light lingers until evening. Even when life feels a little heavy these are all hopeful things that bring small joys.

Knitting is happening too. For a while now I have had a plan to take new photos for the front covers of my early patterns and so I’ve been busy making new sample animals and clothing in currently available yarns. As always these days though progress is slow, but a small step forward is better than none at all. I’ll keep you posted on progress and hope to begin working on some new patterns soon too. In the slow and quiet moments of the day I knit socks, mostly choosing patterns that I have knitted many times before, such as this one ‘Lucky me’ socks by Sofia Capelle.

The more years pass by, the more I realise how much comfort there is to be found in the familiar. The familiar turn of one season to another, the familiar trees along our regular woodland walks, familiar routines day after day, familiar patterns knitted time and time again, so much so that they are in my memory. It will sound boring to some, but it gives me a sense of calm and order and pleasure especially when things outside of my control feel unpredictable and stressful. How about you, do you like your routines or do you prefer the excitement of something new?

Well, I’m off to get Toby a snack, so I will say goodbye for now and leave you with the wish that you have a good few weeks ahead of you where you are, see you in April sometime, J x

PS: (added after getting Toby’s snack), I wanted to give you an update on Katsue the fox. I mentioned in February that she had picked up a new injury which looked quite serious, and I’m very happy to say that she is doing well. She is still limping but moving with much greater ease than she was, and though she is still coming to visit most days she’s no longer encamped in our shed and has returned to her den. I still check the shed daily so see if she’s asleep in there but it’s been over 12 days since she moved out and she is now back to coming for her snacks mostly under cover of darkness.

It seems that she will always have a limp in both back legs now but I’m confident that she is managing well and does not need human intervention (other than small snacks). I feel that intervention should always be kept to a minimum with wild animals and that they should not be removed from their family group and familiar territory unless it is a life threatening situation. It is an enormous relief that she is recovering from her injury well enough to live a normal and very wild life.

 

countryside · foxes in my garden · in the woods · wildlife · winter

February, the patient month

Julie (little Cotton Rabbits)32 Comments

 

If January is a month for hopefulness, then what is needed during February is patience. For there is a promise whispered on the breeze and gently stirring beneath the soil, hinting that change is coming, but not just yet. Because it can feel that February is the most wintry month of all, cold winds, frosty mornings, and almost constant sleety rain have made warm and sunny days feel impossibly distant. But in the truth February is a turning point between seasons, and again I am reminded that it is a privilege to live in a place where the procession of seasons creates a constantly transforming landscape. There is always something new to delight in, and a comforting sense of order and rhythm in the year.

Here at the shabby and monotonous end of winter there is still beauty, even in an unassuming muddy puddle, which is transformed into a perfect pebble-edged mirror by low winter sun, and so reflects a delicate tracery of overhead branches. And the outline of trees with the sun behind them highlights their beautifully intricate structure. Last autumns seed heads still cling to many trees and bushes: hornbeam samaras* hang like paper lanterns from bare branches; swirls of old mans beard, the apt and evocative name given to clumps of fluffy wild clematis seeds, decorate the hedgerows which are still jeweled here and there with hawthorn berries and rose hips. Around the margins of the lake the bulrush heads are exploding in slow motion with the gossamer fluff that carries their seeds away on the slightest breeze. And yet there are also leaf buds gradually unfurling and early blossoms opening, and the snowdrops are a wonderful sight, carpeting patches of ancient, undisturbed woodland and trembling in the cold winter breeze.

*(Samara is a new word to me- it’s the name given to winged tree seeds, ie. those that are windblown such as Maple, Ash, Elm and Hornbeam)

Sometime last week I suddenly became aware that I could hear birdsong again out in the woods. Looking up into the treetops I could see the distinctive shape of a flock of long tailed tits (their tail is as long as their body) and with them larger great tits, as they often travel in mixed flocks. It’s rather beautiful to think that small birds sing their territorial boundary lines, their pleasing song stakes a claim on a small patch of the wood early in the year so that come the warmer weather and breeding season they have secured a good spot in which to raise a family.

Back in the warmth and comfort of home I have been putting the finishing touches to a new pattern – the coats and cardigans for the small 7 inch animals. I have a few corrections still to make but I should be back with a finished pattern next week.

Lastly there has been sad news from the garden. Katsue, the little fox with the broken back leg who has been visiting often since May 2024, has badly injured her other back leg. This happened sometime at the end of December as she missed her visits for 10 days and when she finally showed up she had a large open wound on her right hip and was walking only on 3 legs, mostly her front two and just using her already broken leg for balance. Now the good news is that she is managing and the wound has now healed, but the injury, perhaps a break or dislocation, seems to have left her right back leg unusable and able to bear weight.

She seems to have moved in to our shed – she is able to crawl through a gap under the door and in there she is warm, dry and safe and only a few steps away from a regular meal. She now comes a couple of times a day for food and I’ve been feeding her lots because I’m not sure she can hunt anymore. She’s eating daily meals of cocktail sausages, leftover meat, sunflower seeds, bread, honey and other leftovers. Foxes are great scavengers and they will eat most things that a human can. Anyway, she is managing and choosing to stay close by (though never within reach) and we will continue providing food and a safe place to rest until she chooses to return to her den.

Well, that’s my February, I hope that yours has been good and that you are finding small joys in your days, see you again soon, J x