Author: pan Psax

A walk today, with my son and the dog. The air, at around 17°C, was mild despite a light, persistent rain. Or perhaps because of it – a beautiful fragrance filled the air, a complex perfume of early summer. The Broom (Cytisus scoparius) still offers some flowers, though small green seed pods now hang from its branches, a quiet signal of the advancing season. More prominent now is the Black Locust (Robinia pseudoacacia), in full, glorious bloom, its sweet scent drifting on the damp air. Adding to this chorus were flowering Dog Rose (Rosa canina) and Black Elder (Sambucus nigra), various grasses, Ground Elder (Aegopodium podagraria), the distinct aroma of wet earth, and a multitude of meadow flowers.

Insect activity remains surprisingly low. A brief spell of heat last Saturday, reaching 27°C, was evidently not enough to stir them fully. A few moths visited the light last night, but today’s most notable sighting was a Pine-tree Lappet (Dendrolimus pini) resting quietly on our entrance door. A striking find. Otherwise, the air was largely empty of buzzing wings.

The birds, however, have returned with early morning hunger. After a stormy night, both feeders and feeding boards were emptied by familiar visitors—sparrows, tits, greenfinches, great spotted woodpeckers, and haw finches.

It seems the truly cold days are behind us, though cooler temperatures and more rain are forecast. I had thought to reduce the bird feeding, but given the weather, I think I will wait a little longer.

The days remain cool and unsettled. Temperatures hover between 12 and 15 °C, and light rain comes and goes. We walk during the lulls—sometimes under a sky that lifts just enough to let the sun reach through. When it does, its warmth feels sudden and generous.Yesterday, under such fleeting sun, we visited the small old rubble site behind the village. We were looking for Viper’s Bugloss (Echium vulgare)—a hardy beauty I’d like to establish by our fence. From the sandy soil, small, unfamiliar plants emerged, uncovered by my son’s curious little hands. I believe they are Small Cudweed (Filago minima), a delicate annual. Though not legally protected, it is listed as a threatened species (C3) in the Czech Republic. Since their roots were already exposed, we took them home too.

Insects have all but vanished from the air. At the feeders and feeding trays in the yard, birds arrive, rain or not. I wedge fat balls into the hollow of the willow trunk; woodpeckers make short work of them—one ball gone in a day. We’ve also started mixing dried mealworms into the seed mix.

No sign of the Common Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) or Eurasian Blackbird (Turdus merula) for a week now. But others visit daily, persistent even beyond sunset in the deepening dusk:

• Eurasian Tree Sparrow (Passer montanus)
• House Sparrow (Passer domesticus)
• Great Tit (Parus major)
• Blue Tit (Cyanistes caeruleus)
• Great Spotted Woodpecker (Dendrocopos major)
• Marsh Tit (Poecile palustris)
• European Greenfinch (Chloris chloris)
• Hawfinch (Coccothraustes coccothraustes)

Occasionally, the air stirs with movement from a Common Swallow (Hirundo rustica) or a Common Redstart (Phoenicurus phoenicurus). A Magpie (Pica pica) flashes past the garden.

Though spring tries to settle, the weather remains restless. A sudden warmth is forecast for the weekend—nearly 30 °C, a sharp turn from today’s drizzle. But by Sunday, the temperatures will tumble low again, as rain and storms are coming, and beyond it, perhaps even frost.

The land seems to hold its breath.

14. May 2025

The meadow beyond the garden has been cut. In the centre of the bare field sat a Common Buzzard (Buteo buteo)—silent, still. After a while, it rose with slow, steady effort, lifting itself into the wind, and drifted beyond sight. Overhead, the breeze carried hundreds of dandelion seeds, white and weightless, crossing the blue in lazy flight.

Morning chill still lingers, but by midday, warmth returns. After days of stagnation, life seems to move forward again. Yet the ground is dry. The water barrel by the house is nearly empty.

At the feeder, a Great Spotted Woodpecker (Dendrocopos major) visits daily—most often the female. She pecks with purpose at the sunflower seeds, oats, and a slick mixture of fat and oil. A Common Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) joins her, less shy now. Greenfinches (Chloris chloris) and Hawfinches (Coccothraustes coccothraustes) arrive in quiet pairs. Not every day, but often enough to feel familiar.

A Barn Swallow (Hirundo rustica) entered my house through the back door today. She flew a gentle loop through the bathroom, examining vents and high corners, then vanished again into the yard. She returned twice more, each time bolder—once even exploring through the house, and then finally left. I hope she does not try to nest here. She is welcome, but this place holds too many dangers—dogs, cats, and now and then a Sparrowhawk (Accipiter nisus) that cuts low across the yard.

The birdbath and the smaller drinking dish are busy now. Sparrows and tits come to sip, even the starling takes her turn. With so little moisture in the soil, I will place a wider basin farther out in the garden. Quiet water. It may help more than I know.

21. May 2025

The dandelions have vanished. In their place is now blooming clover, buttercup, silver cinquefoil, bellflower, and vetch. Rain has returned, and the air is cool again. Temperatures dropped from twenty degrees to fifteen. Nights are hushed. Few insects stir beneath the porch light. Only two moths came: the Sand Bordered Bloom (Isturgia arenacearia) and the Garden Carpet (Xanthorhoe fluctuata).

The scarcity is plain. House Sparrows (Passer domesticus) now bring their young directly to the feeder. So do the starlings. Today, a Hawfinch pair appeared with two fledglings—whole family gathered on the edge of the tray.

This season is difficult. Cold and rain during nesting strain even the hardier birds. Food is short. Adults must choose between warmth and nourishment. Insectivores suffer the most—swifts, swallows, tits. Blue Tits (Cyanistes caeruleus) sometimes raise only four fledglings from nine eggs. For the swallows still on eggs, there may be luck in delay. Their chicks, at least, are not yet exposed to the cold.

Others manage better. Starlings, blackbirds, thrushes—ground feeders—have earthworms to draw from the damp soil. Their broods are thriving. For the rest, only warmth and sun can reopen the narrow window for a second brood. 

This should be the last day of the rain, let’s see, what’s next. 

Yesterday:
Temperature: 25.5 °C | Relative humidity: 38% | Weather: sunny, mild breeze | Locations: mosaic of field, meadow, riparian woodland, and village garden

A free day. We set out — son, dog, and I — past the edge of the village. The track winds across open fields and early-summer meadows, toward the stream-boundary woods and further, in a slow arc toward the muddy pondlet. The path is strewn with fallen petals from Blackthorn (Prunus spinosa) in fragrant bloom.

Small butterflies flit past in quiet abundance — tortoiseshells, brimstones, whites — each moving too quickly and freely to name precisely. The air shimmers with tiny insects. Everything that can bloom, really does.

The meadows are in radiant form. Among the flowering plants visible from a single spot: Field Pansy (Viola arvensis), Speedwell (Veronica sp.), Spurge (Euphorbia sp.), Honeysuckle (Lonicera periclymenum), Broom (Cytisus scoparius), a pink Vetch (Vicia sp.), Wild Strawberry (Fragaria vesca), Violets (Viola sp.), Forget-me-not (Myosotis sp.), Red and White Deadnettle (Lamium purpureum, Lamium album), Mayweed (Tripleurospermum inodorum), Field Chickweed (Cerastium arvense), and young Walnut (Juglans regia). Bumblebees drift from flower to flower. The air carries scent, and the fluff of fading Dandelions (Taraxacum sp.) rises on the breeze.

To reach the pondlet, we passed through a dense patch of tall Stinging Nettles (Urtica dioica). The water’s edge is overgrown with Alder (Alnus glutinosa), Birch (Betula pendula), and Aspen (Populus tremula). It’s a sheltered, pleasant place. A light wind ripples the surface — enough to cool the sun’s intensity, enough to bring tiny waves across still water. From somewhere near, frogs call intermittently.

The trail climbs next into a stony Pine grove, eventually shifting into Oak woodland — a habitat of entomological interest. We continue through mixed forest, and finally return along a sunken path flanked by now-fading Blackthorns. A murmuration of Starlings (Sturnus vulgaris) moves with us, accompanying us to the main road near the village.

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Today:
Temperature: ~15 °C | Weather: cool, post-storm, slight rain | Conditions: rapid seasonal shift

Yesterday reached a high of 29 °C. Today is nearly fifteen degrees cooler. Rain and thunder came through, though only lightly here. The apple tree, in full pink bloom just yesterday, has dropped most of its crown. Plants have seized the sun while they could. The next days will be cooler, with ground frost possible at dawn.

At the feeders, I continue to offer a mix of sunflower seeds, peanuts, oats, and oil. A new shallow dish for drinking and a larger one for bathing have been added. Both are now in regular use. Two separate flocks of sparrows — two species — now treat this yard as their own. Great Tits (Parus major) and Eurasian Blue Tits (Cyanistes caeruleus) also visit daily. Among the more notable regulars are the Great Spotted Woodpecker (Dendrocopos major) — most often a female, occasionally relieved by the male — and Greenfinches (Chloris chloris), usually one pair, sometimes in two pairs. A beautiful Hawfinch (Coccothraustes coccothraustes) starts to appear as well, once with a mate. A small mouse emerges at dusk among the feeding stones, quietly taking its supper.

At night, several moths have come to rest near the outside light:

• Latticed Heath (Chiasmia clathrata)
• Scalloped Hook-tip (Falcaria lacertinaria)
• Small Yellow Underwing (Panemeria tenebrata) — the Field Chickweed (Cerastium arvense) is now flowering profusely
• Pale Oak Beauty (Hypomecis punctinalis)
• Early Thorn (Selenia dentaria)
• Garden Carpet (Xanthorhoe fluctuata)

All remain to be processed and logged.
The garden, the yard, quietly, is alive.

Finally a day off. Saturday morning – I’m heading out into nature with my little son and our dog. We’re going to check out the wetland. On the way, we pass a badger’s den (Meles meles) gaping from the stream bank. A bit further on, there are more and more entrances to the badger labyrinth. We don’t go closer and continue along the stream.

We pass a small game enclosure, from which an European fallow deer (Dama dama) watches us with a calm but cautious gaze.

And now we’re at the wetland. The sun is starting to warm a bit, and the air smells like spring. Floating on the water are clusters of slime with tiny black dots – the next generation of pond frogs (Rana). Right beneath my feet, a partridge (Perdix perdix) bursts out of the tall dry grass and vanishes with a cry into the nearby forest. I look back and see she has been sitting on a fresh clutch of eggs. We quickly move on so the partridge can return and warm her future offspring as soon as possible.

Tomorrow, we’ll go to see the other wetland – the one further by the forest, where the meadow saffron grows.

I’ve been kind of caught up in life lately. Or rather, I don’t have time to go out into the countryside. Well, I do, but I go with my son and my dog, so we do other activities than collecting plants for the herbarium or bird watching and so on. You just can’t do that with a dog. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with my son!

So I just watch everything turn green and start to bloom. It’s a beauty that frustrates me, as I feel the need to take phenological notes and expand my herbarium.
So, for now, my amateur activity remains nightly butterfly mapping.

Last year was the hottest year in Clementinum in 250 years. The average temperature reached 10.3 °C (50.54F), two degrees above the so-called normal from 1991 to 2020. It was particularly warm in February and March.