After Christmas, I always take the optimistic view that the first two months of the year are the birth of Spring. Catkins can be seen dangling from trees and snowdrops slowly emerge through January. A family of squirrels shared this optimism when, on one of the sunnier days in January, four of them in convoy could be seen scampering through the trees behind Willow Drive. At night, I am surely not the only person to have heard the Barn Owl screeching, but it is not often I see one.
Having a pine tree in the front garden gives us the opportunity to view more unusual garden visitors at close range. Tiny Goldcrests flutter between the clusters of pine needles, hovering at each in their search for insects. In the big trees around The White House various members of the Crow family squabble raucously, but more delicate sounds of the bird orchestra come from numerous song birds. There is rarely a time when Blue Tits are not to be seen or heard somewhere. Nest boxes are being sized up to see if they are a suitable Des.Res. Among the rummagers in the dead leaves is a Song Thrush. I wish it well and hope that later in the year it will produce a large family.
Sue Netherton