View from the Shed by Shaun Finnie - BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.

What goes “Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom”?

No, it's not comedy TV puppet Basil Brush telling two jokes. Nor is it The Fresh Prince, AKA Will Smith coming here tonight to hear the crowd shake, shake lots of rooms. Or even The Outhere Brothers with an added boom replacing their usual “way-oh”. No, the title of this piece refers, of course, to a classic song by the late, great bluesman John Lee Hooker. If you don't know it then I urge you to search it out. It's a glorious example of the kind of great sound that we humans can make, just for the fun of it.

It's a tenuous link but here goes; here at Old Moor this week we've been hearing a very different kind of boom, the loudest sound that any British bird can make. Unlike people though, the Bitterns that have been booming in the Dearne Valley haven't been doing it for entertainment purposes; our male Bitterns have been booming because they have no choice. For them it's a natural and annual form of communication. It's the way that they tell each other they're here, this is their patch, and they're ready to make baby Bitterns. Boom, baby, boom.

In ye golden olden times of the last century we used to describe the Bittern's call as being like someone blowing over the top of a milk bottle; deep, resonant and mournful. However while it's still a very accurate description, this reference doesn't hold weight any more as it's a long time since milk came in the kind of wide-mouthed glass bottle necessary to make the Bittern-esque noise. These were the same milk bottles that were delivered daily and stood outside in deep snow, freezing solid until the silver or gold top foil popped and Blue Tits could peck away at the rich frozen cream.

So much about those last few lines mark me out as a person whose prime (if I was ever in it) was several generations ago. For most people reading this, I might as well have said that a Bittern makes the same sound as a Brachiosaurus. How to describe the sound of a Bittern's boom to a young person who has never heard it and has no connection to my cultural references? I guess it's impossible, just like accurately knowing what that old dinosaur sounded like. My social touchpoints are ridiculously out of date so you'll just have to Google a video of a booming Bittern for yourself. And if you do, you'll find that it's a haunting, gut-filling sound that you'll feel in your vitals before your ears have caught up and deciphered it. It evokes a primal reaction, like being close to a roaring lion. It's something that anyone who loves nature simply has to experience at least once in their life, and there's a chance that you might hear it for yourself at your favourite Yorkshire RSPB site. Right here, right now.

When they arrive at the reserve's Welcome Shed many people's first question is, “What are the chances of me actually seeing a Bittern?”. I always tell them the same thing - “Someone sees one of them every few days. Why can't it be you? They're elusive but there's always a chance. Good luck.”

Right now your luck is improved. These weird brown herons are just as shy and evasive as ever but as well as the possibility of seeing one, you now have the slightly better chance of hearing one as well. And you don't even have to be that close, as when they boom everyone on the site will hear it, from those standing right beside it to those on the cafe balcony enjoying a half-time cuppa. The sound can carry for up to three miles if the conditions are right. “Boom”. Everybody who hears the sound stops what they're doing and looks up, unsure. They look at each other questioningly. Was that it? Did I just hear...? Then it comes again. “Boom. Boom, boom.” Everyone, wherever they are, breaks out into smiles and knowing nods. I've seen people shed the occasional tear, a Bittern's call is that special.

But if you want to hear this wondrous natural phenomenon don't leave it too long. By the start of Summer they'll fall silent again as the mating game will be over for another year. Hopefully we'll have chicks on site by then and the increased possibility of a sighting as the females take short flights to find food for themselves and their broods. That will be another good time to make the journey to Old Moor.

I joke around a lot in these blogs, and I make no apologies for that, but it's time to be serious for the best part of a paragraph. Thirty-five years ago there were only eleven booming male Bitterns in the country. Just a football teams-worth, on our entire island. Now there are somewhere in the region of 180. It's still not a massive number but it's a huge increase. That's a direct result of the RSPB's work. That, in turn, was made possible by your monthly membership subscription pounds. You, in a very real sense, brought the Bitterns back to Britain. I thank you, and so should every single person who has the privilege to hear this incredible sound over the next few weeks. Make sure that you're among them. And you never know, you might even see the bird that's booming.