Little Cotton Rabbits

An early morning encounter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some mornings I wake early and can't get back to sleep. Sometimes I read, sometimes I knit and sometimes I open the blind and watch the sunrise sky. A couple of weeks back I was leaning out of the bedroom window just after the sun had risen and was sleepily daydreaming as I looked around our garden below. A flash of orange caught my eye, peeking out between the tangle of ivy overgrowing the chicken run and I probably frowned in puzzlement, but it soon became clear that the plastic mesh netting that keeps the chickens safely contained in their run makes a rather comfy hammock for a sleepy fox.

She was completely unbothered by me opening the window and taking pictures of her and carried on dozing in the warmth of the early morning sun for 20 minutes before stretching a little, grooming a little and then setting off on an impressive balancing act along the top edge of the run  - which is a good 9ft above the path. She stopped for a quick sniff and a wistful glance at the now empty bird box that the bluetits used to raise their family in, before a lithe leap back to the ground and a silent, sure-footed and typically foxy vanishing act.

She still arrives most evenings and some mornings for snacks. We've only caught a brief glimpse of one cub and that was a few weeks ago, and though the mortality rate of urban foxes is pretty high I'm hoping they're safe somewhere and she's just keeping them well hidden. I'm still thrilled to have the great privilege of her visits, she's still completely wild, intently alert and intelligently wary of us but she does seem to appreciate the snacks!

 

my foxy friend

 

 

 

 

 

Earlier in the year I posted a picture of the fox peeking through our garden fence and she's been a fairly regular garden visitor ever since. When I first got a good look at her she seemed quite sleek and almost plump but more recently has seemed thinner, and thinking perhaps that food might be a bit scarce I've been offering her a meal whenever she turns up - she seems particularly fond of leerdammer cheese :)

She mostly visits after dark, but for the last few weeks she has been arriving earlier in the evening and sometimes in the early morning too (much to the disgust of the chickens). When she arrives in the garden I open the back door and throw a little food then stand very still and as a result she has come to tolerate me being there, only a few feet away - though always with a watchful and suspicious eye on me as she eats and tensed like a coiled spring ready to run if I make any sudden moves. I've no wish to tame or inhibit that wild instinct, it is a well honed survival mechanism and she needs it, but I will offer a small meal now and then to share the privilege of her company.

This morning she visited early and was content for me to take some pictures and while editing them on the computer just now I had a light-bulb moment. Can you see what was spotted in the last blurry picture there? The outline of swollen teats on her belly is a giveaway sign that she's was fatter and then thinner because she's just had a litter of cubs!

I'm under no illusion though about why she visits - she's very clearly focused on the plump and juicy feathered meals strutting up and down my chicken run. But if she's thrown a little food she graciously leaves them alone for the rest of the day and the chickens remain safe, though unsettled. They only get to forage under supervision now and the rest of the time are safely enclosed in the brilliant chicken run that H built - still predator proof after 10 years. There are definite signs though that the chickens are not happy about the interloper - I'd call this a protest wouldn't you? ...

 

 

 

 

We also have a lot of small garden birds visiting our little patch at the moment and on occasion larger ones too - I've had the pleasure of seeing this heron ungainly balanced on the roof opposite - I think one of my neighbours has a pond that he's eyeing up. It is such a privilege to have wild creatures as a regular garden visitors and I'm hoping that in a month or so that the fox might bring her little ones along to frolic on the grass - I'll try and have my camera ready if she does :) 

Well, I have had a nature filled week and am off to fill my weekend with knitting. Hope you have something nice in store for your weekend x

 

A spring walk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's been a perfect Spring day here today and as I spent most of last week inside it has been lovely to get out and let the cool March breezes blow away my cobwebs. I started my walk in the small and very pretty village of Westmill in East Hertfordshire. Ambling up the single main street, I passed the medieval church of St Mary the Virgin, its rough flint and stonework contrasting with the softly blushed blossoms of a beautiful old magnolia tree. There are some very pretty cottages in Westmill and all of the gardens were full of daffodils, primroses, chionodoxa and muscari, the best of the early spring flowers.

But the main reason I headed for Westmill is because I know that it's a good place to spot spring lambs and I wasn't disappointed. There were lots of them gamboling about in the spring sunshine and I was laughing out loud at their antics. They seemed to form into little gangs, frisking up and down the field and leaping and bucking with excitement and exuberant energy. A small straw bale seemed to be of particular interest to them and was the stage for lots of 'king of the castle' competitions. 

I've come home to knit up some lambs of my own and I'll pop back soon and show you what else I've been knitting here. 'Til then I hope the change of seasons is bring you pleasure - if you have time please leave me a comment and share what you're enjoying in your little patch of the world at the moment.

 

A perfect Sunday

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The perfect Sunday morning. What would yours be like?

Mine would look exactly like the top picture and I was lucky enough for that to be part of my Sunday yesterday.

My idea of the perfect Sunday is

:: waking up when you've had enough sleep, rather than to the sound of an alarm clock;

:: padding downstairs in cosy socks and PJs to pop the kettle on;

:: taking a tray laden with brewing breakfast tea and a warm cinnamon bun back to a still-warm bed;

:: reading and knitting the morning away in bed with chill radio playing until everyone else is up and wanting some lunch;

:: pottering in the garden after lunch, tidying up the vegetable beds and enjoying the golden light from the setting sun blushing the spring blossoms on the tree;

:: making a roast dinner for family and curling up together for wine and cuddles by the fire afterwards.

It's not often that everything is in alignment for a perfect Sunday, but I'm hoping for a re-run next weekend :)

My knitting projects above are: 

'Out of winter shawl' by Tamy Gore, knitted in simply stunning 'Owl Feather' Grenouille sock yarn

A pair of simple ribbed wintery wristwarmers that I've improvised in order to let this beautiful hand-dyed neppy yarn take centre stage. The the rich earthy tones and light neps of the yarn remind me of a ploughed field in winter, so ribbing seemed appropriate. The yarn is 'Need for tweed' BFL/Donegal nep from Ocean By The Sea (the making notes on the wristwarmers are on my ravelry project page)

Reading: The Peregrine by J. A. Baker - beautiful written, evocative prose for quiet Sunday morning

 

February blues

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

February might be the shortest month but it always feels to me like time runs much more slowly in February than in any other month. To be honest I'm tired of grey, dreary, overcast days and I'm so looking forward to feeling the days lengthen out and seeing brighter colours emerging in the countryside. I'll be off on a snowdrop hunt sometime later this week because those delicate little bell shaped flowers are always the first signal of a change in the seasons. In the meantime I'm cosying indoors and knitting February away. For some reason I seem to have been mostly knitting in blue for the last few months. Do you find that you get drawn to a particular colour at a particular time? I was knitting mostly in warm tones of gold, pink and mustard throughout last year but blue seems to be the colour of the moment for me, though I think I might be hitting saturation point as I have been finding myself looking at lots of lovely brown speckley yarns on Etsy. 

Anyway, two pairs of socks have been finished, the top ones are Fair Isle Flower Sock by Candice DeWitt knitted mostly in Eden Cottage Hayton 'tarn' and below are a pair knitted from Helen Stewart's Fragment sock pattern in Madeline Tosh twist light yarn 'well water' (I've added both as projects to ravelry if you wanted links to yarns etc.)

The pair I'm currently making are from the Kia sock pattern by Dawn Henderson. It's a lovely rhythmic and relaxing pattern, perfect for knitting when you just want something undemanding to occupy your hands and soothe your mind from a busy day, and it's generously shared for free (though if you use the pattern you could buy Dawn a ko-fi to thank her).

In other news I've had some interesting visitors in the garden. With the weather being colder last week, and there being less food out in the countryside towards this end of winter, we've had flocks of finches swooping in to the bird feeders (mostly gold and green finches); the squirrel has been doing his best acrobatics in his attempts to loot some of the bounty and we've also had a few rather exotic visitors moving into the area from London. This is a ring necked parakeet - and she's not alone as one morning a flock of 12 or so flew over and I'm now regularly hearing their raucous calls echoing around the neighbourhood. My favourite garden visitor though has been this cheeky fox. I always know when he's around (usually appearing in the hour before sunset) as the chickens go berserk with squawking and when I look out there he is running up and down outside of the run trying to get in. As soon as I go out he runs down the side of our house and leaps through a narrow gap in the fence to our neighbours garden and there he stays in the hope I'll go back inside, every now and then popping his head through the gap to check if I'm still there. I'm very happy to have him in come and visit because he's beautiful and such a character but I'm not sure my chickens are as pleased the have him around!