With the wind turning round to the north and north/east, even a short walk around the reserve requires some preparation, with scarves, hats and gloves once again getting taken out of the drawers, but the reward is worth the effort. Even if the edges of some of the ponds show a bit of frosting, and splashy areas are icy, the weak late winter sunshine is still encouraging our wildlife to gear up for spring and our resident birds are wasting no time in establishing territories.
Amongst the reeds fringing the boardwalk that leads to the hide, the male reed buntings are starting to sing, their weak, tentative, hesitant 4 or 5 note song making you think they really should be trying harder to impress, but, once you have found one (and their ability to ‘throw’ their voice can make that a challenge sometimes) you will be surprised by how lovely such a plain sounding bird can be. For a bird that is, essentially, brown, black and white, they are simply stunning, especially when lit up in the full sun, as they were today, but their good looks are a story of decay rather than glory. Most birds grow brightly coloured feathers to court their partners, but not the reed bunting. In winter the male is, essentially, brown, but, as the tips of his feathers wear away, the wonderful black cap and bib, together with the white ‘dog collar’ that make his ‘summer plumage’ so glorious are revealed, meaning the same bird can look quite different each time you see him.
Our Cetti’s warblers still have some way to go before they are in full swing, but the dunnocks have been proclaiming their territory for a little while now, their rusty song joining that of the blackbirds, robins, great tits and occasional song thrushes, reaching out to you as you walk round the reserve’s paths. This interactive chorus adds another dimension to any walk, making us use our ears as well as our eyes, and it does not matter if you don’t know which birds is which, simply listening to the sounds warms your heart on a cold winter’s day, with promises of warm springs just around the corner.
This morning, though, the bullfinch has to be the star of the show, with his jet black cap, light charcoal coloured back and wonderful blood red chest and belly, he sticks out like a very real sore thumb amongst the bare bones of the bushes, which are still weeks away from bursting into life. His flamboyant looks could not, however, be more in contrast with his call, which is a weak and reedy, like a young child trying, and failing, to whistle but, I suppose, if you look like a million dollars your song does not have to be that great!
It is not all birds though, and many of our flowers are starting to poke their heads above the soil. One of the earliest to flower will be the lesser celandine, a relative of the buttercup, whose wonderful starry yellow flowers will make the path leading to the hide a riot of colour in the next few weeks, just in time to greet the first sand martins, who should be speeding their way through the skies above the reserve in only 3 or 4 weeks, proof, if proof were still needed, that winter is on the way out and spring is just around the corner.