Day 9 - Gardening Leave

I am beginning to like early mornings less. In normal times I loved the solitude, savouring the first cup of tea as dawn broke, peacefully enjoying the uninterrupted selection of classical music on YLE Klassinen, browsing the newspaper on my tablet and flirting with the crossword. Nowadays, the newspaper, coronavirus doom-laden, dampens the spirit and sets the day on a track of anxiety.

I found, this morning, that hard physical work in the garden provided a welcome mental distraction. I had already turned over the vegetable patch and now turned my attention to the dahlia flower bed. I had neglected this last year being a little handicapped after my hip operation. Lazily I had just dug some holes and replanted the tubers which had wintered without care in the garage. We were rewarded with a very modest display of flowers accordingly. My efforts this morning turned over the heavily impacted soil much to the delight of the robins and wrens that followed my progress with particular interest.

Job done, I sat for a moment and admired a couple of high-flying birds soaring to the West. As they drifted into closer range I recognized them as a couple of Red Kites. Now, we are used to seeing Red Kites in an adjacent field and a pair frequently perch at the top of a tall conifer and survey an uncultivated field below. (These beautiful predators contrast with the humankind of vulture who nowadays circle the farmhouse hoping to be first in line for the rich development pickings when the occupant dies and his estate is sold.) Amazingly, the first couple of Kites were followed by at least 14 others all making their way, in a same way same day loose formation, towards the North East. I am not a very knowledgeable bird watcher and I could have been mistaken but the silhouettes all seemed the same. My friend Roger from the borders is an expert and I posed this unusual situation to him for his opinion. In his part of the world Red Kites are unusual but here we are blessed as they roam from Harewood House, about 10 miles away, where the birds were reintroduced and nurtured recently. Roger thought that a likely reason for such a numerical concentration would be food, possibly a feeding station that has become familiar. There is an estate and pheasant shoot just down the road and maybe they have been discarding unwanted game bird carcasses? Just a thought.

But gardening completed for the day and gloomy speculation is inescapable. Matt Ridley writing in the Spectator and who can usually be relied upon for a moderate and balanced opinion, admits to being  blindsided by the virulence and spread of the attack – “it turns out that I and many others were badly wrong. The human race has been playing epidemiological Russian roulette all along. It has taken Mother Nature a long time to put a bullet in the right chamber, combining high contagion with asymptomatic carriers and a significant death rate, but she has done it.”

Tomorrow, I think I’ll abbreviate the morning routine and head for the garden early.