Indoors, I slowly unpack boxes, while outside the Tribe reacquaint themselves with our beautiful countryside. One day I am astonished to find our ‘Gerald Durrell’ gasping in wonder as a pair of magpies fly into the garden. She has forgotten what they are and the littlest, of course, has no memory of ever seeing such an exotic and striking bird! The magpies have been moulting recently and consequently not so conspicuous, but now they are back out and about, much to the delight of the Tribe, who are seeing them as if for the first time, with their iridescent feathers of greens, purples and blues. They will, no doubt, remember the magpie’s harsh cackle very quickly. We also see plenty of green woodpeckers digging their beaks into the field’s soft ground, to slurp up ants from their nests. The Tribe laugh with a mixture of horror and disgust, when I remind them that these birds have tongues nearly 4 inches long, to enable them to ‘drink’ up the ants. The final ‘exotic’ bird that has returned to our lives is the pheasant that appear to be rather plentiful at the moment, despite the shooting season being in full swing. The most they have to fear here are 3 cats and 4 rather boisterous and loud children (plus additional friends at various times), although come to think of it, that could drive any sane creature away.
Talking of our cats, I have been asked a few times how they have adapted to life back in this green and pleasant land. The answer is, remarkably well and quickly. Cats must have long memories as ours have happily (and greedily) returned to their old hunting grounds and our terrace and pathway leading to the front door is littered with mice, shrews and baby rats, in varying states of decay. We now have some perfect rodent skeletal remains. Our feline friends, meanwhile, are most definitely growing fatter.
Towards the middle of the month, I realise that autumn really must be on its way (our first in 3 years). Leaves are turning colour from green to different shades of yellow, red and auburn and berries are beginning to deepen in colour. The silver birch in the garden now have winged, brown catkins hanging down from slender twigs. The slightest breath of wind sends the seed pods spinning down towards the damp ground; nature’s own miniature helicopters. The storm at the end of the month brings great swathes of leaves tumbling down and the tribe delight in kicking through the rustling mounds. Walking along the Old Coach Road with one of her godmothers, the littlest discovers the fun of conkers, as the chestnut trees are dropping their prickly fruit or burrs as they are known. Many burrs open as they hit the ground, to reveal shiny, glossy brown nuts. They are beautiful and the littlest collects dozens of these new, exciting finds. This is, in fact, rather beneficial to me, as I have discovered that conkers ward off moths! Apparently they contain a natural repellent called triterpenoid saponin. And, should you wish your home to also be spider free, well, it seems that spiders abhor conkers too. After last year’s poor year for conkers due to the leaf miner moth eating the chestnut’s leaves, this year is turning out to be a bumper year – our return has been timed perfectly!
As half term arrives, we follow the migrating birds, and head East, returning to the Middle East to see Father of the Tribe in Doha. Moving from the pale blue, watery skies and blustery winds of the UK to the brilliant, deep blue skies and heat of Qatar feels strangely normal.
Mother of the Tribe
