A fox stole a bottle of milk from our doorstep this morning. Or at least a fox has taken credit for such cunning and blatant thievery; there are no peck marks in the lid to suggest it was a bird (a common happening when I was a kid) and the cats tend to lurk around the pond.
Stolen milk is not the only sign of wildlife this week. I can hear the foxes wailing through the night – so loudly that my youngest son has invented a scary character called Foxman, prompting him (my son) to crawl into my bed at night for soothing cuddles. I’ve also seen a number of bushy tailed foxes traipsing the garden wall, exploring neighbouring gardens as well as our own.
There is a den in the adjacent plot producing several litters each year. Unless there home is disturbed, it seems we will be sharing our garden with a family of foxes for years to come. I love watching them – especially the cubs – play but they do make quite a lot of mess. It’s a constant battle to keep the deck, pots and raised beds clean and I am forever moving herbs and edible flowers to higher, fox- and cat-free locations.
The birds are also out in full force today as temperatures have risen, for a day or two at least to 10ºC. It’s lovely not to be wearing thermals as I stroll across the garden to my studio but even lovelier to see throngs of sparrows and tits clustering at the bird feeders – plus an opportunistic squirrel and the usual bullish wood pigeons.
I can hear blackbirds signalling to each other about sources of food – or potential mates and nest locations perhaps? The breeding season for many birds is March–August but some species do start earlier (pigeons and doves do it all year round) and Climate Change may well be pushing dates back. I hope they don’t nest too early or there won’t be enough food: blue tits need to hatch when caterpillars are around, for instance. I’ll make sure to plant and put more food sources out.
Anyway, birdsong is such an uplifting sound I’m happy for even a snippet of it. Our cat is even out in the garden having a sniff around. I follow her lead and spot crocuses and primroses under the magnolia tree.
The sun is also beaming its way through a thick thatch of cloud. I’m desperate to see each of these signs as harbingers of spring but we’re not quite there yet. Even more reason to make the most of it. Off to go and solar power the kids and catch a few rays myself.