Nothing says ‘dawn’ to me, more than a Blackbird’s melancholic song. The bird sings from before the sunrise and right into the morning, when the Sun’s warmth has dried the dew and awakened the first few Daisies which have appeared in amongst the grass.
It’s a clear day, which specks of colour appearing amongst scrub – buds of Hawthorn, Dogrose, and Bramble all developing with the longer Spring days. The deep ‘chak chak chak’ of Magpies sounds in every direction. You have listen more closely to hear the softer tunes and chirps from Robin, Wren, and Goldfinch.
I step through to the woodland, with Holm Oak leaves shimmering above, tickled by the easterly breeze. Shadows of Crows passing overhead. Occasionally you’ll see one with a comically large stick gathered as nesting material. Closer attention is required to spot the Jay moving silently through the understorey, and revealing it’s remarkable blue feathers in flight.
Towards Sunnydale, swathes of Wild Arum have appeared, alongside a good showing of Herb Robert, and flowering Celandine a delight for the eyes. My nostrils are met with strong scent of Wild Garlic, with the oniony Three-cornered Leek smelt too. Here, my ears become attune to the Blue Tit’s perpetual ‘tsee tsee chu chu chu chu’, and the Rooks cawing harshly from their nests.
Yesterday we put up a new Tawny Owl nestbox in a suitable Sycamore. I am excited to check upon it as if expecting to see chicks already fledging from it, but at least it still looks secure up in the tree. I will remain optimistic for them to use it at some point, given how reliably their calls can be heard here at dusk.
On the note of the nesting season, our plywood Skylarks have been put up around the meadows which say ‘please keep dogs on leads, to not disturb our nests’ as they will also soon be building their nests, but on the ground amongst the long grass.