Species List, Attempt One, Take Three

Ok, if I create a table, that’s fine. Except that I’ll update it won’t I. And then it won’t be a reflection of current recollection. So let’s keep it messy. What do I have. What do I remember?


  • Beech (Fagus sylvatica)
  • Silver Birch (Betula pendula)
  • Katsura (Cercidiphyllum japonicum) 
  • Stags Horn Sumach (Rhus typhina)

I have a share of a gorgeous Scots Pine (Pinus sylvestris). It’s half in Mike’s garden, as is a Rowan (Sorbus aucuparia) that fell over last year and had to be cut down. That’s coppicing nicely. I thought and hoped it would. It is. It’s great to see.


  • Hazel (Corylus avellana)
  • Hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna)
  • Blackthorn (Prunus spinosa)
  • Beech (Fagus sylvatica)

Actually the beech should be down here. There’s no big beech trees. Only little ones I’ve planted.

There are Cherry Trees. I think they’re probably something like Prunus kanzan as they fit the picture when in flower. Definitely not wild cherry (Prunus avium).

There’s a big tree I forgot. I think it’s Leylandii (X cupressocyparis leylandii) although it might be a Leyland Cypress (Chamaecyparis leylandii).

I’ve got some:

  • Elder (Sambucus nigra)
  • Willow (Salix spp. not sure …)
  • Guelder Rose (Viburnum opulus)
  • Dogwood (Cornus?)
  • Spindle (Euonymus europaeus) [yeah, I looked it up]
  • 5 Apple Trees. Little ones.

Lots of Snowdrops, Bluebells, Daffs, crocuses, aconites.

  • A holly tree. (Ilex aquifolia). Right next to the house. Should give it a hack really.
  • Climbing Hydrangea (Hydrangea petiolaris)
  • Boston Ivy (Parthenocissus tricuspidata)




I thought it’d be easier this evening. I wore drabbier clothes, and poured flatter beer. I draped the cover over the mini-greenhouse and huddled against its backdrop. I practically disappeared.

But the alarm calls of the blue tits where very insistent tonight and they were not for feeding. Time after time I heard the chicks calling for food and observed the adults doing a bodyswerve. Then Rosie, my big fat black cat came along and decided to curl up at my feet, and things were not looking good.

I saw both adults, and witnessed one getting so fed-up at the abortive attempts at returning to the nest that it ate the supper itself (quite tasty it looked too).

Guilt gained the high ground, and I decided to call it a night. I was perplexed that the birds would be more spooked tonight, when, if anything, I was drabber and more familiar. I was also interested to see both adults together. How do they manage to produce the alarm calls with their mouths full? Then as I lost interest in them, they lost interest in me, and suddenly decided I was no threat.