Photo1 Emptying the compost
Photo 2 . Salix caprea 'Kilmarnock'
I half emptied one of my two compost bins this week. I’ve
been putting it off all winter but after walking around the garden with a bowl
of kitchen scraps and nowhere to put them I thought it was time.
Compost Bin
The two plastic bins were so full the lids wouldn’t fit on,
and the small hatch at the bottom had burst open and given the dogs something
else smelly to roll in as it cascaded onto the path.
Last year it was just emptied by tipping the whole thing up spreading
around the immediate area. This did work and we grew some lovely, healthy
courgettes and broccoli in it. It would of course be easier if I moved the bin
around the garden every year as it was emptied so I could just tip it over in a
new patch, but I don’t like emptying the bin totally as it means building up
the worm population again.
The rest of the garden needs a bit of fortification this
season so instead of throwing it around, I have got the spade in and put the
black gold in old composts bags.
Lovely Stuff
The material I got from the bin is a lovely colour and
texture. Because it’s well-rotted there are very few worms in it as they have
moved higher up the pile to fresher things to digest so there’s very little
disturbance to their colony.
It’s not that easy getting a spade into the bins as you
really have to stretch to get to the back of the pile and twist the edges free.
There comes a time when all the less rotted material decides to drop down, hopefully
not trapping the spade in the process. This is OK as this tells me that I have extracted
all of the usable compost for now. The worms will now do their work to give me
another batch later in the year. Things move at a far greater rate in summer as
the pile gets a lot hotter.
So for the time being I have one bin empty enough to add the
weekly vegetable kitchen scraps into without the need for digging a trench and
burying it to grow peas and beans on. In the big clear out I was lucky enough
not to come across any mice in the bin. For some reason they decided not to
take up residence this winter.
They are probably in the garage, but clearing that out is
for another day.
Blossom
The blossom is out and a lovely sight it is too. Some seems
to have come early after that warm spell a couple of weeks ago.
Hazel or Lamb’s
tails, gives us a good show from January to April, especially in hedges. They appear
on bare twigs in spring. Old coppices, cut on a 7-10 year rotation for
harvesting small wood, produce fine catkins displays.
Blackthorn. Another
hedgerow favourite from March to
April. Blackthorn flowers are densely clustered, so hedges covered in its
blossom sometimes seem from a distance to be covered in a light fall of snow.
It often blooms at the time when northerly winds bring bitterly cold weather
with real snow, a period known as a ‘blackthorn winter’.
Silver birch. Female
trees have spiky green catkins but both sexes produce nectar, attracting bees,
butterflies and blue tits. In early Celtic mythology, the birch symbolised
renewal and purification. Bundles of birch twigs were used to drive out the
spirits of the old year, and gardeners still use the birch besom, or broom, to
'purify' their gardens. It is also used as a symbol of love and fertility.
Wild pears. Not
as common as other trees but worth a mention. Probably introduced by the Romans,
wild pear has small, inedible fruits. Its fragrant blossom opens before the
leaves expand and is carried in upright clusters, attracting bee pollinators.
Ash See it: March to May
Wild cherry. Wild
cherry is thought to be the most ornamental of our native broadleaf woodland
trees.The spring flowers provide an early source of nectar and pollen for bees,
while the cherries are eaten by birds including the blackbird and song thrush,
as well as mammals such as the badger, wood mouse, yellow necked mouse and
dormouse.
Hawthorn .
Prolific in hedgerows which have formed enclosure boundaries since Roman times
and the species has gathered millennia of folklore and superstition.
Winter-flowering Glastonbury Thorn is said to be descended from Joseph of
Arimathea’s staff, which rooted and burst into flower on the Isle of Avalon.
Goat Willow: goat
willow is dioecious, meaning male and female flowers grow on separate trees, in
early spring. Male catkins are grey, stout and oval, which become yellow when
ripe with pollen. Female catkins are longer and green.
Rowan. Few trees
are so richly endowed with folklore. Flowering rowans were planted beside
cottage doors on May Day to prevent visits by witches, while crosses made from
twigs were hung over doors on the Isle of Man.
