Hotter'n July ...?

Inside the house it's 30C. Outside much hotter. The BBC rejoice in the heatwave. The hottest July day on record, our politicians adding to the sense of doom.
On such a hot evening we sit outside after dusk. A single tawny chick squeaks. An occasional hoot from its' parent. We'd ringed three chicks. Have the older siblings dispersed or is this the lone survivor? A chick makes an overnight appearance on the trailcam in grainy black and white.

Pippistelles cause the bat detector to chatter. Overhead, first Arcturus shines. Later, the 'ultra-bright' International Space Station passes from the west before disappearing into the earth's shadow.
My fascination with the ISS leads me to tell others about its' passing. At outdoor pre-wedding drinks I announce its' arrival. The guests are patrician, urbane and see me as a rural soothsayer.

Inula magnifica - loved by butterflies and bees

This year, butterflies seem to be benefitting from climate breakdown. It is believed that our once-common but now locally extinct wall butterfly was a global-warming victim several years ago. But yesterday thirteen other species in the floriferous garden. Early-flowering buddleia Lochinch busy with freshly-minted peacocks. Gatekeepers are abundant. Bumble and honey bees crawl over the lavender flowers. Bees, bee flies and butterflies throng around the huge, golden, daisy-like flowers of Inula magnifica.

Tremendous thunderclaps and lightening accompanied by heavy rain coincide with an overnight mothing session. The precious egg trays I place around the light as a refuge for the attracted moths were turned to pulp. I scooped them up the following morning and tried to press them back into useable shape. 138 moths of 34 species before the deluge.

My bewildered dad joins us during one of his disorientated 'sundowning' evening sessions. Apparently his son 'Lives somewhere over there'. I tell him I've heard he's a right tight barstard.

A metallic cracking and smell of smoke by the gates. I learn later that a slug had entered and sacrificed itself on the printed circuit board. Tom shakes his head in consternation, in intake of breath. Another big bill predicted.

Our final garden ringing session before Rich began his sabbatical. Seventy five birds ringed before rain. 183 young nest box birds ringed during the season. Our second, pampered house sparrow brood were too young to be ringed. I put a few plump mealworms out during the day and the mother bird quickly gathers them up to take back to the sweltering nest box. The young should be as big as bantams when they fledge.

A green woodpecker is caught on camera at The Stumpery 'Rovers Return'. The water trickle is hugely popular.

The meadows have filled with knapweed. A single field scabious is flowering in the orchard. Collected yellow rattle and cowslip seed is scattered. The remaining seeding dock must be scythed. Rowan berries ripen. Cedar Walk brambles set for a bumper crop. Opened doors bring an unending dust of silver birch seed. This looks set to be a 'mast' year.

I have not returned to the pond to pull out the last of the parrot feather where lumps of brown algae now rise to the surface. Spikes of purple loosestrife.

'Red Duke of York' potatoes
join Leeks 'Musselburgh' for soup.

Thunderstorms have benefitted the vegetable garden. Potato yields are up. The small tubers of Red Duke of York are firm and flavoursome: they contribute to delicious leek and potato soup. We nurture newly-planted calabrese. Belatedly, tomatoes form in the polytunnel. Our first cucumbers.

The hot weather isn't conducive to gardening. Pernicious marestail has infested the planting beneath our Himalayan birch but spraying isn't an option. It can't be weeded-out so we decide that we will mow. This will become grass with springtime species tulips. Removing dead flowers from geraniums on mounding with the hedge trimmer is back ache inducing: the resultant defoliation looking as startling as my summer haircut was to our grandson.

There has been insufficient wind to power the sails of Greens Mill in Sneinton. A hardship for me is that none of their unbleached white, organic stoneground flour is available. For my pre-industrial forbears a much more real problem.