Winter:

The crackle of melting frost is almost audible as the sun rises over the school field. If you get here early enough, it’s an Arctic savannah.

Brent geese, a diminutive member of the goose family, flood the rye-grass plains like wildebeest, shuffling and croaking their way through the sward, backlit in a kaleidoscope of stark, icy blues. The adjacent harbours home to 10% of the world’s population of brents in winter.

Amongst them, the odd oystercatcher or redshank may join the squabble, peeping amidst the ranks. All the while monitored by predatory, ginger-framed eyes. 

The foxes swell during winter. Omnivores in the extreme, they bulk on everything from the orchard’s by-gone bounty of decaying fruit to dog faeces. Growing evermore confident with the absence of the pupils, if you feel alone, you’re not.

The orchard is decorated with thrushes. Redwing, a compact russet bird with a flush of ochre under the armpit, flit amongst the naked branches, mashing any apple remains. Go out at night, and their hyper-pitched contact calls are sometimes the only sound fracturing the night sky.

Mistle Thrush, scarcer earlier in the year, perch like buried treasure, feeding on the mistletoe’s glass bauble-like berries. Once consumed, the pip is defecated on a neighbouring tree, spurring another sprig of yellow parasitism.

As I garden, I’m often trailed by a bobbing shock of red. Dressed in their winter best, robins have an evolutionary urge to follow you – mistaking humans for the wild boar they once trailed in neolithic Britain.

In the grounds, it’s time to get on top of things, to have (the closest thing) to a breather. The butterfly war waged and over, Brimstones and commas can be found in the fleet of wooden sheds, curled up, leaf-like in a state of suspended animation.

Aside from the mistletoe, the main plant stirring is hazel. Lolling forests of catkins roll out as early as December, the tiny scarlet female flower tucked at their base. On the ground, the first fleshy heads of crocus and snowdrop awaken.

Harry Munt (Wicor Garden Volunteer and Wildlife Conservationist) 

Harry volunteers at Wicor Primary School helping manage the grounds for wildlife. Harry started his own House Sparrow project in building nest boxes. Harry is a trainee ecologist and has a passion for nature conservation. He is also a Wilder Communications Champion. 

Find out more about our Wilder Communications Champion