5:30am. My window lay wide open. The warm air barely cooled my room over the still night. The first full dawn chorus of the year commenced. An orchestra of bird song powerfully drifts through the air; rising and falling, twisting and turning its way into spring. Thrush, robin, tits and even the garden dunnock pooled in together. A blackbird, perched on top of the telegraph pole, in prime position, fills his lungs with air. Upon exhaling, the air crosses over their double voice box. Using muscles to control each of the two passages of exhaled air, the bird can produce two, differentiating sounds simultaneously. Perfect for creating the ultimate song to attract a mate and reaffirm their territory. Beautiful start to a beautiful few days of weather ahead.
|Where the dunnock deposit the crap collected from the nest|
On my days off, I sat, watched and listened to the dunnock constantly foraging and feeding its young in the bush at the top of the garden. Clearly joining into the dawn chorus worked for him! In half an hour, the chicks were visited seven times. Dunnock are renowned for their complicated relationships, but luckily it appeared that this nest had both parents dedicated to raising their young. Frequently males will mate with lots of females, and females with lots of males. Sometimes leaving the chicks to be reared by more than one father, more than one 'mother' or lots of both males and females.
|The dunnock's favourite perch|
A magpie made a racket, screaming with excitement as it plunged down into the bushes at the back of the garden, wings spread wide, its iridescent tail feathers flashing green. I was certain the dunnock chicks would be ready to fledge anytime soon, and it turned out they had. But before long, there appeared to be just the one left upon investigation...
A muntjac pauses before making a dash across the path and into the woodland opposite.
A pheasant popped his gloriously blue and red head up above the tall grass. Taking a break from feeding, he clucked and leaped into the air, then scratched and beat his wings against the ground. Establishing his territory.
Canadian goslings swam across the Nunnery Lakes reserve, this time escorted by a pair of canadian geese...
A wren sang from the hedges, while sedge, reed and marsh warblers inconspicuously made their way through the depths of the foliage.
And after a meal and a climb up to the top of the medieval castle, or the mound of, the sun set sending streaks of pink, purple and orange across a dark blue skyline.
|From the top of the mound|
A great example of how important it is to simply just get out and enjoy nature. We did not see the otter, which is a shame, but we did see and hear new and exciting animals that we would not have, had we stayed home and watched Britain's Got Talent. Call it an excuse to get away to somewhere a little different. And never lose sight of what really matters.
Spending time in one of my favourite places; wading through the gentle flow of the River Ivel. Shafts of light flicker across the gravelly river bed as I plunge my camera into the water. Experimenting with some underwater river shots, I wade up stream through the small woodland. The top of the banks lined with the last remaining daffodils.
|Above/below in the River Ivel|
|Sky joining me in the River!|
And this blog shall end with a photo of a fetus, of what I believe to be a fox. Poor little blighter...
|One of four fetuses found on Dunstable Downs|
Also, if you do one thing over the coming week, make sure it involves walking/running/cycling/crawling through a woodland carpeted with bluebells.... Stunning, particularly first thing in the morning!
Hope you enjoyed... Expect some more bluebell photos in the next blog very soon...