Welcome to the Spring Equinox edition of The Bridge Cottage Way newsletter. If you are new here, come on in, the garden gate is open and the kettle is on. Do notice the hellebores as you come along by the burn, heralding the coming of colour and light.
I expect your social media feeds and Substack posts to be awash with the Spring Equinox, with frolicking lambs and nodding daffodils, talk returning light and new birth. Well, this one is no different, although I dare say we’ll have some lambing snow yet. Right on cue, as curlews piped this year’s Spring aboard, and our farmer neighbour began his lambing season, our resident hare trusted the safety of our wild garden and birthed her leveret here for the fifth year on the trot that we are aware of, much to the delight of the grandchildren who crouched and whispered that she was shy and we had to be gentle.
It might mean a little less rhubarb for us, as mother hare is rather partial to a nibble, and it does mean that the roses need to be fenced in, much to Tim’s annoyance, as despite their prickles she does seem to love to feast on their lower leaves, but she is so very welcome none the less. A rare sight for many, but here in this corner of rural Northumberland, we are blessed with many. They can be seen racing across the fields, back lit by the setting sun on evening walks which will soon be a feature again once the clocks change. We have so many beautiful Northumbrian brown hares here, a friend in the village has named his little boy, Arlen, meaning land of hares.
John Lewis-Stempel writes, in his tender book, ‘The Private Life of a Hare’,
‘the hare was a shapeshifter, a familiar with witches. Even today, when formerly rural animals such as the fox have taken up residence ‘in urbe’, the hare, an irredentist country-dweller, is a rare sight for most people. In an age when animal after animal has lost its magic, the hare runs along the cusp of reality. To see a running hare is to peep into other worlds.’
I feel so lucky to have these gentle creatures in our midst and it is no wonder that hares run in and out of my writing and take me into a land of magical realism. It was the discovery of our first leveret, nestled among the tulips that set me on the course of researching the folklore of shape-shifting, which led in turn to the witch trials, and Ann Watson, hung on the town Moor in 1650 and who I write about in my novel, The Rewilding of Molly McFlynn. I think the hare will always have a very special place in my heart, and will give friends and family plenty of scope for hare related gifts!
Mrs Duck is back, much to the delight of the grandchildren! She came onto the decking by the burn just as Vernal Equinox arrived, tapping her beak on the conservatory door, looking for Luna to feed her some porridge oats. I wonder how many ducklings will survive this year? Last year she had ten, and we watched the number slowly diminish thanks, I think, to the stoats who seemed to get fatter by the day, but were happy to see her out and about with four teenage ducks in late summer.
With the arrival of Spring, the first wild garlic and cheese scones were baked and shared. We had a wonderful exchange with our neighbour who sent her lad down with homemade hot cross buns (delicious, thanks, Janice) and I sent Billy back with a bag of scones. I wrote about wild garlic in a post, Staying Wild, for International Women’s Day over on
my other Substack, thinking about all the women who have gone before, treading the paths of ancient woodland where this plant can be found, and how by sharing our recipes, and scones, we continue to keep these traditions alive, staying wild and living in tune with the seasons. You’ll find the recipe for my wild garlic and cheese scones in Staying Wild and below are some more links that might help.Known as ‘the hungry gap’ there’s not a great deal to eat from the garden, a few leeks have made it through the winter, and there’s some spinach and chard in the greenhouse, but, the excitement of the growing season is with us. Garlic and onions planted in the back end are doing well and tomato and chilli seedlings are thriving, snug and warm in their heated propagators. I’ve made a note to myself to get some broad bean seeds in and as St Patrick’s Day passed yesterday, the traditional day for planting peas, I’ll set some peas away in seed trays in the greenhouse. We have to set beans and peas away, and most seeds come to that, in trays as the veggie garden is loved by shrews who nibble any seeds planted directly into the soil.
Tim has just made a new bed for strawberries along the side of the greenhouse, and we are waiting to see if the asparagus planted three years ago will this year make an appearance or whether we will give up on that altogether. Even if it does come up, it will, in all probability, just be hare food!
I’d love to know if you’re on the cusp of starting a new veggie garden, or if like us you are old timers and are busy getting your garden ready for the new season. Perhaps you don’t have a garden? Can you get your name down for an allotment, maybe club together with a neighbour to share one? Can you get some tubs or pots ready for some salad leaves? Rocket is a good one to start with - the clue’s in the name, and we’ve had the best success with carrots, growing them in buckets.
As I take my book into schools and to other events for author talks, conversations are being had about growing food and seasonal eating, sustainability being one of the central themes of The Rewilding of Molly McFlynn as Molly moves away from her consumerist lifestyle, takes over the gardening from Grandad Joe (no spoilers I can’t tell you why) and even learns to love eating spinach pie. At my author talks I tell the story of a work colleague who asked me for a courgette flower for her tortoise in November, and how it dawned on me that not everyone had grown up with parents and grandparents bringing home muddy allotment veg, and understood about seasonal eating. We talk about why it is important, and how by growing a small amount of your food and learning to live in tune with the seasons you are helping to reduce the drain on the planet’s resources.
Since that initial courgette flower conversation, I’ve written The Bridge Cottage Way website posts and blogs in various forms over the last twelve years and will continue to blog here four times a year, with the Summer and Winter Solstices and Spring and Autumn Equinoxes and update the website with seasonal growing help and recipes.
I have never charged for The Bridge Cottage Way posts. They will always be free, but I am turning on the paid subscription option here. If you feel able to support my work and writing, that is terrific, and Tim and I are very grateful, but it is entirely up to you!
The next newsletter will be on the Summer Solstice when I hope to coming to you from the garden in warm sunshine, eating homemade ice-cream!
Until then, happy gardening, happy foraging and happy seasonal eating!
More information about my first novel, The Rewilding of Molly McFlynn can be found at www.suereedwrites.co.uk where signed copies can be ordered, or head to wherever you usually get your books. The sequel is being written as we speak, which will have trees and tree preservation at its heart.
Oh how magical that you have a hare in your garden. I took on an allotment last autumn and am also in the process of changing things around in my own garden too. It's certainly an exciting time of year.