Hope for the Lappinch

Late April / early May is my favourite time of year in England. 

There is no finer place to be at this time of year, with the blackthorn coming into bloom, freshly minted green leaves emerging along the hedgerows and the joys of the dawn chorus as our overwintered birds are joined by the first of the summer migrants.  

Having moved here in August, this is our first spring on the farm and it was with eager anticipation that I set off on a dawn walk with the night’s full moon having only just disappeared into the mist over the western horizon. 

At first sight (or sound), the dawn chorus was quieter than I remember from our previous home.  Perhaps it was the open fields and absence of woodland where so many of our songsters like to skulk.   Yet good things come to those who wait.  Soon, a blackcap began warbling from a scrubby corner, to be joined by a chiff-chaff with the familiar two note call from which it is named.  As our newly planted native woodland matures, it should provide ideal habitat for these vocal but generally unobtrusive visitors.  

A couple of swallows passed overhead – our first for the year.  Probably on their way elsewhere but an uplifting sight nonetheless.  Later arrivals will hopefully stay and nest in our barns.   

Then, a surprise amongst our recent arrivals – a solitary redwing, quite unmistakable through the binoculars with its prominent cream eye stripe and russet armpits.  Quite why it is still here and not well on its way north I am not sure – perhaps a migrant from further south wending its way home for the summer?   

For those who have followed the blog, the lapwings across our boundary are still there.  Not quite in the same numbers as before but a good handful and definitely now nesting – as was apparent when two crows appeared overhead, to be swiftly seen off by three feisty lapwings, swirling and mobbing their larger adversaries like avian TIE fighters.  Given the number of corvids about, let alone the foxes, badgers, trampling cows and wayward ramblers, the chances of them successfully seeing their eggs and young through to adulthood are probably low, but you can’t help but admire their courage and tenacity.  I hope they make it.

To finish, the most pleasing sight of all – a pair of linnets.  Nothing especially exciting about linnets you might think, except that I tend to associate them with arable fields rather than pasture and these were the first two I had seen on the farm.  Perhaps unsurprisingly, they were enjoying the failed field margin around our wheat crop – the subject of an earlier post, but now greening up with a farmer’s nightmare of ragwort, chickweed, cleavers and camomile.   These most determined of wildflowers (that being of course what they are), are certainly not as showy as the cornflowers, poppies, knapweeds, ox-eye daisies and vetches we previously had in mind for our field margin, but for farmland birds they are probably equally if not more welcome, especially as the year goes on and they start harbouring insects and shedding seeds.  With the introduction of some arable on the farm, the arrival of the linnets was probably no coincidence and, we hope, bodes well for our aim of getting a broader range of farmland birds back during the year – yellowhammers and skylarks in particular.  It also supports our view that mixed farming, rather than arable or pastoral monocultures, really is key to a healthy, vibrant and diverse countryside.

All in all, a delightful start to the day and a reminder that if you really want to find out what is going on in the countryside there is no better time than dawn in the spring.