The BBC’s new nature show featuring the iconic presenter has Mairi Fraser oohing and aahing but blue tits in the air vent won’t stay cute forever
08:32, 27 Apr 2026Updated 08:57, 27 Apr 2026
Sir David Attenborough still inspires as he approaches his 100th birthday(Image: Dave Benett/Getty Images)
Never mind ‘Spring Watch’, essential seasonal viewing’s been the magnificent, soon-to-be centenarian, Sir David Attenborough and his ‘Secret Gardens’ series. You must have ‘ooed’ and ‘aahed’ over an impossibly cute dormouse going about her business? Yes, us too.
Marvelled at an Oxfordshire couple cohabiting with otters for over thirty years and only having spotted them a handful of times? Yup, we’re right with you. There they were, Home Counties’ answer to Jaws, actually swimming under the Mill house’s arches, oblivious to newspaper-reading owners, just metres above.
But what about solitary saint, west coast-based ‘Matt Wilson’, ploughing his Dr Doolittle furrow against rugged mountains and impossibly cold temperatures? I had no idea toads or lizards could survive -18C, reappearing with an unparalleled lust for the opposite sex, to boot.
Mr Wilson, a dedicated naturalist, designs user-friendly bird and insect boxes to encourage Mother Nature. Who didn’t shed a tear over Mrs Lonely Barn Owl cowering in her beautifully constructed – but empty – house, patiently waiting for feathery Mr ‘No-Show’?
OPINION
OPINION
Spoiler alert: ‘he’ did eventually come home, claiming inclement weather as an excuse. Poor guy, forced to produce a buffet of humble pie offerings before his Mrs would forgive and get on with the crucial – if a tad delayed – process of reproduction!
Fraser Towers is definitely not a candidate of interest for a BBC location department, but nature has definitely been given a seat at our top table. While neighbours liberally douse early-nectar yielding dandelions with toxic chemicals, ours are encouraged, heads nipped off before seeds appear. OK, so ‘dandelion soup’ hasn’t made it to the menu, but rogue leaves are hurled into buckets, soaked and used as natural fertiliser.
Blue tits in the lift might sound pleasant but when they hatch it’s a different story
Remember those ghastly council-planted flower beds, pollen-sparse annuals bristling in gaudy rows (serving zero natural purpose) slashing across our sight-lines like some crazy Jackson Pollock production? Not on our watch. Pollinator plants – the lavendars, buddlejas, foxgloves and salvias of this world – are planted and nurtured. Hardy perennials taking a bit more time and effort, but isn’t that the point of gardening? The wait and see, the anticipation, failure as well success? Life in a nutshell really.
But encouraging wildlife has its drawbacks. While the Beeb’s ‘Secret Gardens’ host families leisurely sprayed thirsty herbaceous borders or crafted watercolour landscapes in their conservatory, life ‘au deux’ nature comes at a price.
From early April, I spend hours rescuing winged wildlife, manically headbutting sunroom windows, the buzz and swoosh of airborne invaders a constant backdrop. Hairy arachnids, encouraged by a cosy log pile, roam the house with gay abandon, scuttling into trickle vents when the duster appears, reappearing in the evening when you’re, frankly, too knackered to wield a glass and card.
Now we’ve got blue tits. Aw, bless. Nesting in the utility room air vent! Silent and cute for now, but, come hatchling time, that’s a lot of cheeping above the stove!
My lack of chemicals and deep bedding approach has produced a family of hedgehogs, lodging under the summerhouse. Hoorah. Little piles of pooey ‘presents’ left on the patio. But much snuffling of the undergrowth flings piles of bark mulch onto the lawn, confusing the hell out of the robotic mower and guaranteeing a daily dander around the edges with a rake.
Crows too, another contentious visitor. I’m a big fan of Corvid’s: handsome, fiercely intelligent, very loyal.
They love me, flutter around with their ‘pocket watch’ precision timing awaiting breakfast. Neighbours? Not so much. Loud rapping on windows, wiper blades attacked, general terrorising of garden dwellers. Oops, more than one apology has been extended.
An exotic axolot was discovered this week. Well done that young naturalist. An unwanted ‘pet’ quietly released? I suspect so. But we have our own salamander species: home-grown, native newts, powering through our very small pond. Slugs and snails take a hammering, of course, even if they’ve avoided the hedgehogs. One less thing to worry about for me though and wasn’t that a wilder beast over in the hedgerow..?