The sun has been struggling up each morning this week around about 7.20am and each morning a bird has been singing outside our bedroom window at just about the same time. I did try to learn some of our British birdsongs (here, here, here, here, here and here) a few years ago but didn’t get on very well. I can still manage a great tit and a blackbird but not much else. As soon as I start comparing this bird’s song with recordings of the mostly likely candidates the memory of it is gone, clean out of my head. At this time of year it must surely be a robin, but I suspect a dunnock because it just doesn’t sound jolly enough to be a robin. Whoever it is, it’s lovely to hear.
In contrast to the rest of the week, the sun positively bounced up this morning, flanked by a sky of gold and orange. Little Owl closed her eyes and bathed her face in its light as she stepped out of the back door to head off to school. Bulbs are poking their heads up through the soil at a rate of knots and the churchyard is full of primrose flowers. Sitting down to work this morning the sky behind the chimney pots is a brilliant blue. Tonight’s job must surely be to put in my spring seed order.
