Adam's Garden

The rookery sits atop a mature stand of sycamores in a small mixed wood a hundred yards from the farmhouse. The ground beneath the canopy is littered with hundreds of small twigs dropped by the birds during nesting in the spring. Quite why they prefer to seek out their material further afield when it would be easier to collect what has fallen is a mystery, but some behavioural trait has led them to simply abandon what has fallen and search anew. Some of the more canny operators will steal twigs from their neighbours but in the main they just scout the nearby fields and the margins of adjacent woodland.

The woodland floor provides the perfect environment for numerous indigenous plant species and on the margins, in front of the area where visitor's cars are parked, I have planted a number of hardier cultivated species, using the area as a nursery for excess plants and bulbs. The result is a hotchpotch of colour at different times of the year bit in general the effect is quite appealing, especially as the terrain slopes steeply upwards away from the house.

In early spring there are hundreds off daffodils - far more than would normally be the case but this has come about because whenever a cache of bulbs is unearthed in the ordinary course of gardening, elsewhere on the farm, they are transplanted to get them out of the way until a home can be found for them.The net result has been a gradual build up and in some ways the effect is a little too overpowering; instead of clearly defined clumps they grow almost as single mass á la council parks. A large numbers of primulas grow amongst the daffs. The best of these are used as early bedding and moved back into the woods as summer approaches and their flowers disappear, and they renew their strength ready for the same procedure the next year.The larger of these are split and over the years the stock has grow ever bigger to the extent that I can pick and choose the best plants each spring. Amongst these the true wild primroses stand out with smaller, simpler yellow flower. In early spring the fields alongside the valley road are covered in these primroses. Other than the snowdrops they are the first of the wild flowers that can be really noticed in these parts.

In spring progress the wood that is home to the rooks is also home to numerous wild flowers. The verge of the farm track leading away from the house skirts it to one side and it is home to hundreds of violets which grow in swathes of blue and white.The scent of these violets is not really noticeable until one is picked and held close to the nose and even then is not what could be called overpowering. The violets are always out at the same time as the blackthorn blossom that appears in abundance in the woods and hedgerows, but they have long gone by the time that the bluebells appear.

The bluebells carpet the ground beneath the sycamores that support the rookery and come out when there is still enough light penetrating the canopy to support good growth. It is a breathtaking sight for the couple of weeks they are at their best and something that can only be maintained and enhanced by yearly clearing the ground of encroaching brambles and other shrubby growth. The yellow of celandines too make an impact and the effect is enhanced by the presence of campians of several hues. Most of the campians are a pink-red but some are much paler. Where the light is stronger, white stitchwort grows in large clumps, spreading out into the hedgerows and into anywhere free from grazing animals, often growing in companion with garlic mustard, a plant with white flowers and with leaves that smell of garlic when pinched.

At that time of year when the clamorous young rooks are just taking to flight the foxgloves are looking their best. They do not appear to like the darker reaches of the wood but grow in great numbers in clearings and toward the margins of the trees. The statuesque plants stand tall in pink purple and yellow amongst the cranesbill and bracken. There are a great many new and revived varieties of foxglove available today which look great in the garden but it is difficult to beat these plainer indigenous ones that can be seen across the British countryside. The large leaves of the sycamores completely obscure the view of the rooks' nests by now and plunge the ground into a deep shade where growth is cut to a crawl. Hens make dust baths in the cool, dry earth and little thrives bar nettles and bracken.

It is difficult to see into the wood at this time of year because of the contrast in light levels which is just as well really. There is little of merit for the gardener. Ivy clambers up the trees, providing shelter for pigeons and squirrels, and the dogs hunt for undiscovered hens nests amongst the weeds.

Late in the year a fiery sea of Crocosmia, sulphurous to crimson, leaps to the fore where the daffodils were growing in the spring; and various cow parsley type plants shed their seeds.

The rooks are gone - they will return periodically during the winter - and the wood that is their home is dormant and still. The ground is covered with decaying leaves which will rot down to form excellent leafmould. Dead bracken litters the area. Nothing much happens now except the occasional flurry of activity when a hungry fox takes a careless hen scratching for food. All visible growth has stopped but the calendar will turn full circle and soon the snowdrops will be putting up their first shoots for the start of a new season.

You can find more articles in the archive under Soiled Hands.

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