A Garden Waking Up

There is a particular morning in late February, usually after a spell of grey drizzle and cold wind, when the garden suddenly seems to stir. The light has a different quality, the soil smells of earth again, and the birdsong shifts gear. Great tits begin their ringing two-note call, robins sing from the top of the hedge, and if you stand still long enough you may hear the deep, unhurried buzz of a queen bumblebee searching for her first meal of the year.

For those of us who garden with wildlife in mind, this is the most rewarding fortnight of the year — and also the busiest. The creatures emerging now are hungry, worn out and vulnerable, and a few hours of thoughtful work in February and March can shape the whole season ahead. Nothing here requires expensive equipment or specialist knowledge. It simply asks for a little attention at the right moment.

Give Your Nest Boxes a Spring Overhaul

If you did not empty your boxes in the autumn, do it now, before the end of the first week of March. Blue tits and great tits begin prospecting in mid-February, and a box still stuffed with last year's moss and feathers will be rejected or, worse, pass on parasites.

Work quickly and gently on a dry morning. Tap the side of the box first, in case something is roosting inside, then open it and remove the old nesting material. A stiff brush is enough for the bulk of it; finish with a rinse of boiling water, which kills mites and their eggs without leaving chemicals behind. Let the box dry thoroughly before refitting the lid, and never use insecticide or wood preservative inside.

• Hole size matters. Around 25 mm suits blue, coal and marsh tits. A 32 mm hole welcomes great tits, house sparrows and nuthatches. Anything larger invites starlings and, sadly, predators.
• Lose the perch. A small ledge below the entrance gives grey squirrels and cats somewhere to sit. Tits do not need one.
• Check the fittings. Metal plates around the hole stop squirrels enlarging it; a well-seated roof keeps rain out.
• Spread them out. Space boxes at least five metres apart, and angle the entrance slightly downwards, away from prevailing wind and direct midday sun.

Leave the box unlined. Tits, sparrows and nuthatches all prefer to build their own nest, and damp straw or hay does more harm than good.

Fresh Water Is the Kindest Thing You Can Offer

Water is the single most overlooked resource in a spring garden. Birds need it for drinking and bathing, hedgehogs wake thirsty, frogs are moving towards ponds to spawn, and bees will sip from shallow edges on warm afternoons.

Keep it simple and safe. A bird bath should be no more than 2–5 cm deep, with gently sloping sides and a few stones or a piece of roughened wood for anything that falls in to climb out. Refresh it every day or two, and scrub it out weekly with a stiff brush and hot water — green algae and droppings build up fast in mild weather and can spread disease between visitors.

Never add antifreeze or glycerine to stop a bird bath freezing; both are toxic. In a cold snap, simply pour over a kettle of hot water or float a small ball to keep a patch open. If you have a pond, check that the edges are shallow enough for a hedgehog to climb out, and leave a gentle ramp of stones or planted margin at one side. Frog and toad spawn usually appears between late February and early April, and both species favour the warmest, shallowest corner they can find.

Let the Early Flowers Breathe

It is tempting to tidy every border the moment the weather improves, but the plants feeding emerging insects are often the ones we are quickest to pull. Hold back the hoe and let these flower:

• Dandelions and daisies — superb, nectar-rich and free. Let a few open in the lawn and along the edges.
• Willow catkins — one of the richest early pollen sources for bees, especially goat and pussy willow.
• Lungwort, primrose and hellebore — reliable perennials for queen bumblebees and the hairy-footed flower bee.
• Crocus, grape hyacinth and winter aconite — small bulbs that repay you every March.
• Mahonia and flowering currant — shrubs that scent the whole garden and hum with bees on a sunny morning.

Leave the seed heads of last year's teasels, honesty and sedums standing a little longer, and resist the urge to cut ivy, which offers late shelter and early nectar. Above all, put the sprays away: a single caterpillar-rich patch of native planting will feed a brood of blue tits far better than any feeder.

Traditional Skills That Still Earn Their Keep

The old country crafts were not nostalgia — they were practical responses to a landscape, and most of them suit a modern wildlife garden beautifully.

If you are lucky enough to have a boundary hedge, consider learning hedge laying. Cutting part-way through the stems and laying them at an angle produces a dense, bushy base that shelters nesting birds, small mammals and insects, and it lasts decades. Winter is the time to do it, but a laid hedge is best planned and lightly trimmed in early spring while growth is slow.

Coppicing hazel and willow on a seven-to-ten-year rotation gives you a renewable supply of poles and rods. From these you can cut pea sticks, bean poles and plant supports that look far better than anything bought, and weave simple wattle hurdles or a low dead hedge from the brashings. Stack cut wood in a sunny corner and you have created a log pile, a basking spot for slow-worms and a home for solitary bees in one afternoon's work.

A Gentle Plan for the Weeks Ahead

Nothing here should feel like a chore list. Space the jobs across a fortnight and enjoy the excuse to be outside: clean and check the boxes, scrub and refill the water, hold back on the tidying, and spend ten minutes sitting still on a sunny wall just watching what arrives. The garden will tell you quickly enough what it needs next.