Life's a Beech

Even though it's been brass monkeys here in Scotland, Spring continues its advance: albeit, very slowly. During one of my patrols around the garden today I noticed the Beech hedge starting to turn green. Wowzahs! That is surely a sign that temperatures are due to rise (and not in the biblical sense).

Can't keep a good hedge brown

This does mean that human friend will be trundling up and down the garden with the lawn mower, gwappling thwough the undagwoth with the shears, and filling the holes where I bury my tripe sticks (spoilsport). There are a few areas of the garden, however, that are 'wildlife' havens ie untouched by human hand or machine and great for me and the cats to hide out in.

I can run, but I can't hide

There is a cloud on my botanical horizon though, after an episode of 'The One Show' revealed an interloper in the bluebell wood. Apparently the Spanish bluebell could turn out to be the grey squirrel of the forest floor. Ay Dios mio! Well, I can honestly say I've had my nose to the ground and can report that we only have the native variety around these parts; recognisable by their 'bell' shaped flowers and lovely scent. (The flowers on the Spanish version are more star-shaped. Surely Bluestars then...)

Bluebells going native

Anyway, I think I should take a leaf out of Teddy's book and be a bit more relaxed about these things. Stop tearing around all over the shop like a canine vigilante.

Go away...

Starting right now. I'm off for a siesta. Oh no. That reminds me. Need to go on Bluebell patrol again. Uno, dos, tres...