When Storm Jocelyn hit our shores this month, we gained a new landmark in UK history - it was the 10th named storm in 5 months, the earliest moment in a year in which that number has been reached, since its introduction in 2015. In a nutshell, this means we are experiencing many more serious storms. Why do we name storms? According the MET Office, it 'helps raise awareness to enable the public to stay safe in dangerous weather conditions'. (23.01.24) Does it work? Who knows. Storm Henk, early in January hit another landmark; the worst day of sewage discharge into rivers since public records began. There's a song that should be sung to the shareholders and bosses of the water companies, 'What have you done today to make you feel proud?' And I think we could all answer that for them. And it wouldn't be polite.
Meanwhile back at the farm, whilst storms abound around the UK, here on The Lizard we wake to mild temperatures and a definite sense of change in the air. I counted 17 Long Tailed Tits on the feeders at the same time, out in the fields the bird scarer is doing its job by scaring our old dog witless - admittedly not such a hard job these days. The Pussy Willows and buds are out on the trees and the sun is making its presence felt even through the thick wall of clouds. And yet, last week on the Penwith coast, I walked through snow covered fields.
All the trees in the copse appear to be alive and well, or at the very least still standing after the storms and being in the eye of the Westerlies. Two years back, the winds flattened and uprooted the Juniper trees even though they were low to the ground. I had to replant, re tie them to stakes and secure them with large stones. They recovered and are looking lush, healthy and upright at the moment.
Two sections of new hedges are now in their second year, a handful failed to make it and I will need to fill in the gaps but essentially the growth is good and they are still standing. Birds are singing from all corners of the field and all along the hedgerows. A mixture of dead and new grasses are co existing in the field, a rich carpet of green growth underneath the dry brittle stalks from last years selection of grasses. A few more colonies of Blackberry bushes appear sporadically in the field and along the hedges. They have a phenomenal ability to spread underneath the ground and appear in random spots in the field. They weave their way round a mass of short stubby Blackthorns and Hawthorns in their early years. It looks as if the thorns and strong stalks act as a deterrant to the new growth being annihilated by the rabbits. Down the bottom of the field the river is high and flowing fast. It has taken a beating from the rains, which has consistently swelled its banks but the water runs clear. We test it monthly for the Westcountry Rivers Trust and so far have been lucky to escape any sewage dumps. The ground is soggy and squelchy and the Hemlock Water-dropwort is already sprouting up from its large rosettes of leaves.
Many buzzards visit and hang around. Two more Oaks have taken root in the field, the last of my home grown acorns to go out in the big wide world. The daffodils are out in bloom in the fields surrounding us and the pickers have been out from early morning to dusk, under stormy skies and boots heavy with wet, muddy soil. The end of January brings a morning of frozen car doors and windows but blossoming into glorious sunrise and sun all day - good surf too I'm guessing, by the presence of many surfers out on the beach.
And on the last day of January we were greeted by the news that this is the last year for the Daffodil fields around us, they will now be planted with Herbal Leys. This is great news. More on that next month.
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