Jottings from a country churchyard

AUTUMN WILL REALLY be on its way by the time this goes to print. I’m sure we had all hoped for a lovely long, mellow autumn to follow all our heatwaves and drought, but it seems to be wet and dreary with brief bursts of sun so far. But wet is good. How we do need the rain! I do hope lots of people have seen and admired – and possibly used – the two splendid picnic benches which have been generously donated by Whatley Quarry. They are large, robust and beautifully crafted in conventional design but with elegant touches. The bench ends are usefully extended (just right for perching on) and the retained bark along the outer edge is polished and varnished as decoration. They are sited at present on the higher ground inside the back gate but can be moved to wherever required for use at outdoor events in the churchyard. Do pop in and look if you are passing, jogging, dogwalking. I am sure I am not the only one who suffers from night cramps. I have discovered a wonderful pill which alleviates this, simply supplying magnesium which is, apparently, a mineral many older people lack in sufficiency. But I ran out of them recently and lay awake trying to remember the name of the product I needed while suffering cramp. How could I forget such a simple thing? I eventually drifted off to sleep, satisfied that I had remembered – of course – amnesium. In the morning, I recalled the proper name but then I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful if one could take a pill called amnesium for loss of memory? That would really be useful. I expect everyone has noticed the bountiful supply of fruit and berries on every previously flowering tree and bush. Everything flowered its socks off in spring and summer and although most things were early there were somehow enough pollinators around to do their job as the resultant fruits have proved. Perhaps bees awoke early? Local beekeepers would know. I must ask Jan. I know some have had to feed their bees to compensate for when the bees were unable to fly because of heavy rain. I do remember seeing many bumble bees much earlier than usual this year so perhaps they were lured out of hibernation earlier by early spring and blossom? The abundance of berries now, so much too early to feed our winter migrants, such as fieldfares and redwings, may already have been gobbled up or simply left to wither when the winter birds need feeding. Wildlife is beginning to adapt to the changing climate but not all at the same rate so it may take many generations for insect food supplies all to coincide again as needed. Some may never do to the detriment of some loved species. Think how long as it has taken hedgehogs to realise that their instinctive reaction to enemies to roll up into an uninviting ball of prickles is not the best defence from approaching cars? But I read an article recently which illustrated how birds can adapt within our lifetime. The writer had studied blackcaps in detail over the space of 50 years. He discovered that many now overwintered in England and as a result of these birds not needing to fly huge distances to migrate their wings had grown considerably shorter than their ancestors’ were in the 1970s. It makes one wonder how many other small miracles of change have occurred, unnoticed, over the course of the last 50 odd years of climate change. It would seem that we, like the flora and fauna, have to adapt to our unpredictable seasons. Younger folk probably find it easier as much of it has happened during their lifetime. But those of us who, like myself, are in sight of their century (well, in your nineties, you feel it is almost within grasp) still tend to look back and complain that “it was never like this in our young days.” (Not only climate – but politics, morals, social behaviour – don’t let me get started!). I am sitting in the sun in my stable yard writing this. High up in the evergreen magnolia, which normally flowers from July till December, when frosts blacken the last buds, I can already see what appear to be the last few buds. But then she started flowering in early June this year so I can’t grumble. Conversely the wisteria still has a few purple clusters of its second flowering. And right on cue the Virgina creeper which will be needed to decorate the church for Harvest Festival is still flourishing beautifully all over. But whoops, how quickly the weather changes from sun to downpour! Here it comes! I must run (what have I said – stagger!) inside to avoid a soaking. See you in November.

Hazell Tovey