Country diary: summer's lagging in the woods

One of the dandelion heads ‘waiting for the right gust of wind to break the seeds free and disperse them across the village like invading paratroopers’. Photograph: John Gilbey

In the pasture beside the lane, dandelions have already set seed, their spherical heads intact and waiting for the right gust of wind to break the seeds free and disperse them across the village like invading paratroopers. The meadow grasses and wild flowers have grown rapidly in confused abundance, but the crown of the oak tree across the field remains more defined by the framework of branches than by new foliage. Possibly the sudden drop in temperature that preceded the late snow selectively stalled development.

Further uphill the old meadow was marked by fresh molehills among the rushes and the lady’s smock, showing where these stolid hunters have been clearing and extending their shallow runs. The activity of their favoured prey, earthworms, is triggered by rising temperature and an attractive level of soil moisture – conditions that have apparently been satisfied.

‘Looking up from where I lay, I could see that the individual trees forming the canopy of the woodland were merging into a single summer mantle.’ Photograph: John Gilbey

The shade of the beech woods, fringed with patches of fragrant wild garlic, offered sanctuary from the unexpected heat of the day. Blackbirds crashed and flicked through the dry debris of previous seasons, their progress as they searched for insects sounding much louder than seemed reasonable. In some sheltered spots the beech leaves were just emerging, unfolding and filling out almost as I watched – the new growth looking damp and fragile as it trembled in the slight air movement of the woodland.

A small stream cuts down through the wood in a steep, rocky gully, its sides eroded and occasionally unstable. Despite clambering down with the exaggerated caution of the lone walker, I still ended up sliding the last few yards towards the plank bridge, my flailing descent arrested by a holly bush that proved both unyielding and impressively sharp.

Looking up from where I lay, I could see that the individual trees forming the canopy of the woodland were merging into a single summer mantle – the beech foliage darkening and the older leaves gaining their mature form. Here, close to the top margin of the woodland, the upper boughs have been severely distorted by exposure to the prevailing south-westerly wind – a stern reminder that the current warm, still weather is something to be savoured rather than taken for granted.

‘The shade of the beech woods, fringed with patches of fragrant wild garlic, offered sanctuary from the unexpected heat of the day.’ Photograph: John Gilbey