Hearing the first cuckoo in spring is a special moment that has captured the imagination of writers, poets and musicians over the centuries. But for how much longer? Is it ‘last call’ for these spring visitors?
Continue reading “Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring”
Morning has broken
Waking early the other day, I suddenly decided get up and listen to the dawn chorus. Opening the patio door wide I sat there ready to enjoy. I was in for a magical moment:
All is quiet in the surrounding houses with only the odd noise of traffic. To be alone like this in the stillness is a delightful experience. I can begin to feel I’m hearing Eden’s echoes amidst the stillness and untarnished beauty of that first morning.
The superabundance of nature in the spring-time takes our breath away as we see new beauty unfolding on all sides. Every field, wood, hedgerow and garden erupting into fresh green. In G.M.Hopkins’ words it is ‘all in a rush with richness‘. We are bewildered by the profusion.
Continue reading “The Superabundance of Spring”
Sing on sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough,
Sing on sweet bird, listen to thy strain,
And aged winter, mid his early reign,
At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow.’
Robert Burns
The other day (Feb 1st ) I was sitting indoors when I heard a sound for which I am always waiting at this time of year. Opening the window, there it was, loud and clear, crisp and melodious—unmistakably the first Song Thrush—right on cue, singing its heart out claiming a territory for itself. It’s my favourite songbird, especially because it is the first bird to sing. It gives us so much pleasure by its beautiful solo performance – a herald of the dawn chorus to come, causing ‘aged winter to clear his furrowed brow’.
A Listening Heart 