In an attempt to work out how rabbits are getting into the salad patch to nibble the radicchio, John Lewis-Stempel solves the Walled Garden Mystery
I’VE come to think of it as the Walled Garden Mystery. For three nights now, rabbits have been gnawing their way through the salad patch until there’s scarcely a leaf of radicchio left. (Lepines, incidentally, seem immune to the attraction of rocket.)
The conundrum? How the rabbits get in. The brick walls are old, but 6ft high, the pedestrian door is varnish-blistered, but solid plank, and the galvanised field gate, the obvious point of entry, is sheeted in anti-rabbit wire mesh. Yesterday, I patrolled the outside walls, looking for tunnels in the manner of an especially diligent Colditz guard. For one tired moment, I paranoically imagined genetic-freak rabbits hopping over the walls.
This morning, as I surveyed the bone stumps of lettuce, I realised I was in a horror story, not a detective howdunnit; a garden time Stephen King, not an Agatha Christie. The rabbits were inside the walled garden. I’d locked them in on Tuesday evening after toing and froing through the field gate with the wheelbarrow when lifting the potatoes.
Sure enough, when I examined the ‘wildlife area’, it contained more fauna than intended. Such is our hubris: we want Nature, yet only where and when we want it.
The wildlife garden, a 10ft strip along the bottom wall, has the usual accoutrements to attract Mrs Tiggy-Winkle and Buzzy Bee, a hibernaculum consisting of a half-buried sherry cask and a ‘hotel’ of racked hollow hogweed stems respectively. There is also a bat box and a bird box. The butterflies have a buddleia. For Gussie Fink-Nottle’s newts, it’s the land of milk and honey and des res: mini-pond (a disused water trough with a ladder of stones and filled with water milfoil), rock pile, log pile and long grass.
Denne historien er fra July 19, 2018-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra July 19, 2018-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
