Nature Journal in May: Frost, Heatwaves and the Beginning of Re-wilding

Our garden in May

After hardly a drop of rain in April, the dry spell has stretched on well into May. The earth is already parched and cracked in a way that usually belongs to late August rather than spring. These are the kinds of seasonal observations I often record in my Nature journal. We began the month with relatively mild weather, only for temperatures to dip steadily lower until a sharp frost arrived and wiped out the early planting in our vegetable patches — beans, pumpkins, and all the hopeful signs of the growing season ahead.

For a while, it felt as though winter had returned. I resigned myself to wearing two jumpers indoors and lighting the fire once more. Then, almost overnight, everything changed. The sun returned, temperatures climbed to a glorious 23 degrees, and now a bank holiday heatwave is forecast, with May temperatures expected to reach a record-breaking 30 degrees. The unpredictability of the seasons feels more noticeable than ever.

This month also marks the beginning of our re-wilding project — although, truthfully, the garden has been “wild” for the past four years. Until now it has been more a case of unchecked chaos, with brambles and nettles enthusiastically attempting to reclaim the house itself. Thanks to David’s hard work introducing pathways and structure, we can finally distinguish spaces within the garden and feel we have a gentle hand on the tiller rather than being entirely overtaken by nature.

A plan of our garden

Even so, allowing the garden to settle into itself has revealed some fascinating surprises. Plants I’ve never knowingly encountered before have begun appearing, including honey garlic and mustard garlic. Both are edible, though mustard garlic has a reputation for being invasive, so I’ll need to keep a careful eye on its enthusiastic spread. Soon to be planted on the edge of the hen enclosure are: Pennisetum 'Hameln', Pennisetum 'Flamingo, Echinops ritro, Erygium 'Silver Salentino, Eryngium planum.

One especially welcome newcomer is wild mignonette, a delicate plant that serves as an excellent nectar source for bees and a host plant for butterflies such as the Large White and Orange Tip. Moments like these feel like small rewards for stepping back and allowing nature room to breathe. As the garden slowly finds its balance between wildness and intention, I’m excited to see what else emerges.

Orange Tipped Butterfly