Fruit Bushes and a Royal Bird

The wet and windy weather finally abated and allowed me to get back out into the garden today. I only had an hour to spare, and the ground was still very wet, so I decided to continue with a little more work in our fruit and vegetable patch and focus on getting the fruit bushes planted while they are still dormant.

We had decided to place the plot at the “tip” of our triangular garden and dedicate the wider, central part of the triangle to a lawned area where the children can play. Truth be told, I do actually like this part of the garden as it is relatively secluded and sits next to a beautiful and very old willow tree. There also remains the rusted skeleton of an old bridge across the river that we would like to reinstate at some point and upon which I was once fortunate enough to spot a beautiful kingfisher. Unfortunately, it was more of a glance, followed by a flash of brilliant blue as the bird flew away, though to say this made my day is an understatement!

Frederick Faber described the experience with much more eloquence in his poem The Cherwell:

“There came

Swift as a meteor’s shining flame,

A kingfisher from out of the brake,

And almost seemed to leave a wake

Of brilliant hues behind”.

They are so ingrained in the romance of the river bank, that it is hardly surprising that the kingfisher would also be embedded in ancient legend. In Greek mythology, it is said that Alcyone, the wife of Ceyx, drowned herself after learning of the death of her beloved husband whereupon the gods,

taking pity on the tragic pair, transformed them into kingfishers. Following on from this myth, it was believed that the bird laid its eggs on the seashore (rather than the river bank), in delicate nests which were subsequently launched into the waves. Due to their extremely fragile nature, Aeolus (Greek god of wind and possible father of Alcyone) calmed the seas for two weeks every January in order to ensure safe passage of the eggs, thus giving rise to the term “Halcyon days”.

A less romantic superstition was the hanging of stuffed kingfishers from the ceiling of houses in the belief that the dead bird pointed out the direction of the wind. John Dryden, in his poem “The Hind and the Panther” states “And here his corpse, unblessed, is hanging still, To show the change of the winds with his prophetic bill”. Even Shakespeare alludes to this belief as, in King Lear, he describes time-servers as people who “turn their halcyon beaks with every gale and vary of their masters”.

Unfortunately I have not seen the kingfisher in our garden since, though I understand they are territorial birds, often having a favourite perch on which they like to sit and watch for fish, and therefore I remain hopeful.

Anyway, I realise I am digressing terribly…back to the vegetable patch…

The plot is not wholly empty. I moved the raspberry canes to this end of the garden last year and also planted a bay tree that had been in a pot on the patio for a couple of years. If I'm honest, it became a bit of a staging area as I hate throwing any plants away! I added the currant and berry bushes to the mix today, together with some herbs (sage, thyme, rosemary and parsley) that I had in pots and then deliberated for some time about whether or not I should prune the fruit bushes. I eventually decided that, given the plants are still young and as there seems to be somewhat of a mixed opinion regarding when is precisely the best time to prune gooseberry and currant bushes, I would leave it for now and therefore put away my secateurs with some relief (I am a little nervous about pruning!).

I skirted around the area again with my hoe, avoiding some small border plants and a couple of foxgloves (as I said, I really struggle to throw away plants and there is nowhere else to put them yet!) and then, with a final glance at the bushes and a wish for blackcurrant and apple crumble later this year, I called it a day.

Image shows sage (front), bare stems of two gooseberry bushes and my bay tree.

(NB Kingfisher image taken from Shutterstock).