The Edge of the Wold

By gladders

Peas in a pod

Big chick's appetite is undiminished. Here its father has a beakful of three ivy berries. It seems that big chick is alone, there are no siblings begging for food. When a few days ago I saw the female disappearing to the nest with beakfuls of potting compost (with attached sprout seedlings), she was actually lining a new nest that she is now sitting on. The frenzied digging up of the pots has stopped. The male is doing all the feeding of big chick as well as the territorial defence, while the hen is on with incubating the second brood. Division of labour in shared responsibilities, not a model that is followed by all bird species.

I'm beginning to wonder if we will be enjoying peas in a pod this year. The slugs took advantage of the brief spell of damper weather to gorge themselves on the newly planted Champion of England peas. I've had to start a second batch off to replace the casualties. Last year this heritage variety, once beyond the reach of the ravenous slugs, grew to 7 feet tall and rewarded my efforts with tender, deliciously sweet peas for a few happy weeks. It gave me a taste for fresh peas that it would be a shame to miss this year.

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