You Cannot Make An Omelette...

 ...without breaking eggs. Not quite sure what that actually means but it came into my mind today.

Another thing I'm not quite sure about, even after nearly eighteen years, is Nelly's Garden a diary, or not? Because, if it is a diary then I should be making much mention of recent family visits from the Norfolk and Muswell Hill branches of the family. Both visits meant a lot to me but while they were going on I was much occupied and did not seem to have the time or energy to make diary entries. I will get back to that.

Instead, back to the breaking eggs thing. Some years ago we removed a number of overgrown conifers from the front of the house. One brute of a thing left a two-pronged stump which we decided to leave in place. I envisaged it covered in clematis and eventually one was planted (a viticelli) which took about five years before it blessed us with a few sparse flowers and then died. Today Bert decided to remove the stump.

Considering ourselves to be conscientious of the needs of wildlife our aim was to remove the decaying stump to another area where insects etc. could continue to enjoy it.

Ropes were attached to the tractor, and the removal was underway.

Then Bert cried, Oh SHIT!

A tiny egg had rolled to the ground.

A closer investigation found the little nest, six eggs one broken.

The eggs were cold and we hoped it was an abandoned nest.

Looking into it afterwards Bert reckoned it was a tree creeper's nest. The coldness of the eggs meant nothing as the birds had fled the nest as soon as he roped the stump. The eggs, being tiny, would have cooled rapidly.

Our only consolation is that there are at least three pairs of tree creepers breeding here and hopefully the pair whose nest we destroyed will go again. 

The moral of this tale is to avoid all kinds of wrecking projects in our gardens during nesting season.

Happier times fifteen years ago when the stumps were newly made. The girl is in her last years at grammar school. The boy (Ben) is in his twenties and the pup (Frank) is buried a few metres away.