According to the Met Office, October 2020 was one of the wettest on record. The fallout from Storm Alex, Aiden and Hurricane Zeta was well and truly felt in the South West bringing coastal gales of 65mph and a thorough drenching of the land. Affectionately known as 'lovely weather for the ducks'.
But in amongst this festival of rain we woke to days of 'sunshine and scattered showers' and they treated us to a veritable feast for the eyes and ears. Ever present were the long shadows of the October suns lounging over the landscape and bringing new shapes and structures to the hedgerows and fields. There were crunchy frosts underfoot in the early morning, with hundreds of little spider webs draped across the field, dripping with wet pearls of light. I saw a solitary kestrel at dawn, airborn at the tip of the tree tops, under a moon still lingering in the sky. Its old country name is 'windhover', it can keep its head still while it hovers. A peaceful moment, rudely interrupted by a large, bold buzzard determined to claim the space, the kestrel dips and disappears. And then more rain, and rainbows and double rainbows, lots of them day after day. Glorious skies at dawn and dusk, clear starry nights and two full moons, The Blue and The Harvest. It was a month of big open skies, the first chills of the season and the dying warmth of the sun.
The field and hedgerows continue to change and although the flame like colours of Autumn have yet to fully blossom, flashes of gold, red and crimson can be glimpsed around the land.. Some slightly dubious looking guests have arrived in the damp undergrowth, a range of members from the mushroom family. I know next to nothing about the relative safety or culinary delights of mushrooms but I can tell you with certainty that the one with a sickly tinge of blue will not be present at my kitchen table any time soon. Apparently the presence of such plants is a sign of a fertile soil? A good thing I'm sure but I still don't like the blue mushrooms.
Out in the newly planted copse the chestnut trees have done well, looking strong and vigorous and resilient to the continual blast from the westerlies. The first beautiful lonesome burr appeared looking pristine and healthy. It was a good sight to behold. The gorse too, looked healthy and in good spirits. It dominates the hedgerows but gives good value and the rich yellow flowers are already making their presence felt, a welcome shot of colour as others fade. It is an extraordinary plant. It can survive temperatures of minus 20 degrees (F) and withstand fires. It will grow in any soil and the seeds can survive three decades in the soil. Its dense bushes gives refuge to the birds, and the flower is a good source of nectar for bees and butterflies. The flowers can also be steeped to make tea or put in salads. It has been used as fuel for the fire, fodder for the livestock, strung together to make chimney brushes and brooms and the flowers provide a colourant for dyeing. Are you getting the picture? If this list of attributes was not enough, it is also a nitrogen fixer. As a newcomer to the world of wilding, I am fast learning that a nitrogen fixer is like gold dust and essential to the life of plants (and us). No nitrogen, no protein - no protein, no tree. That is as much as we need to know for this month.
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