Oaks wear the woodland crown

There is every reason to think he has a nest nearby, probably in one of the conifers just over our garden wall, but I must confess we have not seen any sign of baby thrushes. With the amount of singing he has been employing, however, I feel sure he has been celebrating the birth of his offspring.

As if to confirm the presence of thrushes, some friends have two thrush nests in their garden some five minutes' drive from our house. The first is in a tree at a height inaccessible to curious humans, but the second occupies a site surprisingly close to the ground. It is at eye level to an eight-year-old child and contains four chicks. The tree is a small conifer which sits in the middle of a lawn favoured by many cats and yet the parent birds have somehow managed to rear these chicks and, as I write these notes, all have successfully flown the nest.

The charm of this particular nest was that our grandchildren could see the chicks in their nests and, on their occasional visits, watch their progress without disturbing the happy home. The thrushes reared their young in the full glare of human interest, and in spite of cats living nearby - a considerable achievement.

SEVERAL readers have contacted me to report that the oak trees near their homes have burst into leaf well ahead of the ash. This prompted me to examine our local oaks and, behold, they were the same - they were sporting a wonderful crown of fresh new foliage whilst their neighbouring ash trees stood naked and stark without a leaf to their name.

I am writing not of a mere day or two's lead over their rivals, but a week or more. I doubt if there is any country person who is not familiar with the ancient verse that "Oak before the ash, we shall have a splash; ash before the oak, we shall have a soak". This oft-promulgated verse, which appears in all sorts of variations in different parts of the country and which features regularly in these notes, is supposed to forecast the weather for the forthcoming summer.

If the oak comes into leaf ahead of the ash, this supposedly indicates that the summer will be fairly dry with a mere splash of rain, while if the ash is first into leaf, it will herald a soaking for us all during a somewhat damp and miserable summer. Many experts reject this old piece of weather lore, saying that the production of foliage on either tree depends not upon some future weather condition, but upon some past but fairly recent rainfall - and perhaps a little warmth and sunshine - which has nourished the budding leaves. They claim that the trees are by no means clever forecasters, but merely plants which are responding to the prevailing conditions. If the conditions are right, they will produce their leaves - and new leaves require moisture, sunshine and warmth.

As if to counteract our local belief, given above, there is a piece of Shropshire weather lore which directly opposes the famous verse. It says: "When the ash is out before the oak, then we may expect a choke a drought, but when the oak is out before the ash, then we may expect a splash rain". In that piece of lore, a splash means heavy rain, while in our verse, it suggests not much more than a drop or two.

There are suggestions that if we have rain before either tree comes into leaf, followed by a longer moist period with the ground rich with water, it will ensure the oak is always the first into leaf. Indeed, some observers go so far as to claim that the ash never appears in leaf ahead of the oak. It is difficult to dredge one's memory on this matter, and there may be regional variations around the country, but my own feeling is that our local oaks generally tend to produce leaves well ahead of the ash trees, even if the two species are growing very close to one another.

Around England, there are several variations of the verse and most of them appear to support the notion that summer will be fairly dry if the oak is first into leaf - but we cannot ignore those which offer an alternative, like the one quoted above. Perhaps it all depends upon where we live.

I suppose we could look even further ahead because there is another ancient piece of lore which tells us that if the oak bears a good crop of acorns, then it heralds a long and hard winter and there is a very curious old saying which goes "You must look for grass on the top of an oak tree". If you are wondering about the meaning of that, it is a coded message which says that the grass seldom grows at its best until the oak tree is in leaf. Judging by my lawn, that is absolutely true!

FELIXKIRK, nestling among the hills below Sutton Bank near Thirsk, is one of a handful of villages whose name comes from the patron saint of the parish church. Romaldkirk in Teesdale and Oswaldkirk in Ryedale are two more examples, although for many years, Felixkirk was spelt with an "s", i.e. Feliskirk. Down the centuries, its name has been Fridebi, Ecclesia S Felicis, Felicekyrke, Feliskirk and even Fillyxchurche, with Felixkirk - the church of St Felix - now being generally accepted.

I understand that very few churches are dedicated to this saint and this is somewhat surprising because there are at least 67 saints called Felix. Many of these are very obscure, and although most are listed in the Roman Martyrology, the details of their lives and deaths are considered unreliable.

Among the better known is the St Felix whose feast day is on July 12 and who was one of two martyrs who died in Milan. The church built in his honour became known as San Francesco. There is St Felix de Cantalice with a feast day on May 18, and another St Felix with a feast day on September 24; this one was converted by Sts Andochus and Thyrus and together they set off to convert Gaul, but were martyred in the second century.

Yet another St Felix is honoured with St Adauctus, these being Roman martyrs who are buried in the cemetery of Commodilla on the Ostian Way. Adauctus is in fact a word meaning "the additional one" because no-one knows his real name, but the epitaph for this pair was written by Pope Damasus the First who died in AD 384. There is also St Felix of Thibiuca who was martyred in AD 303 for refusing to allow some Christian writings to be burnt, a St Felix of Valois who helped found a an order of monks and a St Felix of Nola whose life was saved by a spider's web.

The St Felix of Felixkirk, however, is Felix of Dunwich, who became known as the Apostle of East Anglia, and who was the first bishop of the East Anglians (AD 630 and AD 647). He was a French priest who became a bishop in Burgundy, but was sent to East Anglia by St Honorius. He established a see at Dunwich on the Suffolk coast, but most of the town was later washed away by the sea.

Noted for his hard work and missionary zeal, Felix, with the help of the king of the East Angles, established a school for boys which was staffed by teachers from Canterbury. Upon his death in AD 648, Felix was buried at Dunwich and his shrine was erected in Ramsey Abbey. Links between the royal families of East Anglia and Northumbria may account for his association with Felixkirk, once in the kingdom of Northumbria.

St Felix lived many centuries before the church at Felixkirk was built. Most of it appears to date from Norman times, probably about 1125, although there have been many alterations to the fabric, such as the rebuilding of the Norman apse, while some of the other internal parts probably date from about 1300.

In its early days, it must have been a very important building. It was probably closely associated with the nearby preceptory of the Knights Hospitallers of St John at Jerusalem which was founded during the reign of King Henry I (1068-1135). They possessed lands around Felixkirk and although there is now a house known as Mount St John to the east of the village, there is doubt as to whether this is the actual site of that former religious establishment.

Like other Catholic institutions, this was destroyed in 1535 during the Reformation when it was valued at £102 13s. 9d.