Churchyard Nature Notes

 

One mild October night, after choir practice, I stepped out of the church door, triggering the security lights. On the grass to my right, was a hedgehog. I have mentioned before how drastically hedgehog numbers have declined, and although they cannot be accused of being cuddly, few would want them to disappear from our lives, if for no other reason than their taste for garden pests.

This particular well-fed individual was snuffling along with a purpose, towards the strip of land by the churchyard’s northern edge, which has been left free from the attentions of the mower and strimmer, this year.

 

 

Stretching from the grass heap in the corner to the yew tree near the garden of remembrance, the strip has attracted a raft of visitors, wanted and unwanted.

Children from the Pack Horse made dens in the long grass and played their games as the sun’s evening rays filtered through the trees. Safe from the attentions of the mower, a succession of wildflowers relished the chance to raise their heads: cow parsley, daisies and dandelions, creeping buttercup, speedwell, silverweed and Herb Robert, foxgloves, each prospered from the enlightened neglect and the generous summer weather. Bees, flies and numerous other creepy-crawlies fed on the nectar and pollen, and on each other, basked on the leaves, mated, laid eggs, whilst the grass made hay and the sun shone on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perhaps it is clear, at this point, that I do not feel the need to justify the presence of the wild strip. But if I had to, the late-night feast awaiting the hedgehog under the damp grass and fallen leaves would be justification enough.

And as I stood watching that Thursday night, I thought of the cold days and nights ahead, that the hedgehog was preparing for, and of my next job in the ‘calendar of care’: the nesting boxes all needed cleaning out.

 

 

As far as I am aware, only two of the nesting boxes were used this year, but for the first time a robin successfully raised a brood. So, to cut down the numbers of parasites and increase the chances of use in the spring, I must clear out the boxes. And I will leave some fresh wood-shavings in, in case a cold spell leads some smaller animals or birds, like wrens to seek shelter.

It is not just the furry or feathery animals that call the churchyard their home, either. In ‘Cherishing Churchyards Week', an eager posse of children (and their parents) spent a few hours hunting bugs and making new places for bugs to live.

 

 

Another Thursday night, my attention was caught by a slight movement in the lobby. A small toad, was heading along the wall towards the bell-tower steps.

Now, no-one should be forcibly removed from the church before their needs have been identified, but I felt sure it would be happier in the damp undergrowth outside.

It was gently taken outside and I like to think of it sitting gratefully on the splendid toadstools that appeared on the dead leaves under the trees, on the northern edge of the churchyard.