Here in eastern England, spring always arrives in fits and starts. We enjoyed some beautifully warm and sunny weather earlier in the month, but then the wind swung back to the north, bringing with it a nasty blast of arctic air. Winter made an return, though we were spared snow. This week started with sharp frosts, while the wind, now easterly, made the days feel very cold. But today (20 March – the spring equinox) the wind has swung again, this time to the south, bringing with it warm air and a temperature of 19degC (66degF). It feels positively balmy.
Our local Blackbirds started singing in mid March
Chiffchaffs return in March, when the trees are still bare of leaves
The natural world is quick to respond to the sunshine and the warmer temperatures. The blackthorn trees are now smothered in white blossom, while the hawthorns’ buds are cracking to show a hint of pastel green. The birds have started singing with real enthusiasm, too. This morning’s early morning dog walk was a noisy affair, with an abundance of birdsong. Blue, Great and Coal Tits, Robins, Song Thrushes and Blackbirds, Dunnocks, Wrens and Yellowhammers were all celebrating the warmer, longer days.
With the breeding season so close, Great Tits are in fine feather
Of our summer migrants, only the Chiffchaff has arrived in numbers so far. I heard my first on 4th March, my earliest date ever – I usually reckon to note my first around the 12th or 13th. The Chiffchaff’s simple, onomatopoeic song is the most cheering of sounds, and it’s one I will be hearing daily now until well into July. In Dutch the bird is called the Tjiftjaf, while the Germans know it as the Zilpzalp, both of which seem spot on.
Wrens sing throughout the year, but are at their noisiest now
The only other spring migrant I have seen so far is the Stone Curlew, with a pair at Westleton Heath on the Suffolk coast on 13th March. This is a typical early date for these strange, crepuscular waders. Most of our birds winter in Spain and North Africa, and they tend to return early in the year. Like Chiffchaffs, some also overwinter, but in very small numbers. They can be caught out by unseasonably cold weather, and in 2018 a very cold March led to many fatalities and a major setback for our small population of these birds, the most northerly in Europe.
Stone Curlews return to the Brecks in March
It’s not just the long-distance migrants that mark the changing year. So, too, do the short-distance migrants. Here in the Brecks we have small breeding populations of Shelducks and Oystercatchers, both species that are more usually coastal breeding birds. In recent days I have seen three pairs of Shelducks indulging in noisy aerial chases over my local fen. These are big, handsome ducks, and noisy ones, too.
Noisy aerial chase are part of the Shelduck’s spring courtship
I have only once found evidence of these ducks breeding in my parish, when early one morning I came across a pair of these ducks leading their newly hatched brood of ducklings down a lane close to my house. I never saw them again, so where they disappeared to remains a mystery. I only see these ducks locally in the spring.
Shelduck ducklings – distinctively black and white
Historically, Oystercatchers were coastal breeding birds in Suffolk, with inland nesting attempts very rare. However, since 1987 they have bred in small numbers in the Brecks, where their preference is to lay their eggs in onion fields. Noisy and conspicuous, they are difficult birds to overlook. I will see them regularly for the next four months, but by early August most will be back on the coast. I’m unsure of how many pairs there are in the Brecks, but my feeling is that are probably more than 30, and that the population is expanding slowly.
Always one of the first butterflies of spring: a Brimstone
Of course, birds are not the only flying creatures roused by the sun. I’ve seen three species of butterflies so far – Comma, Peacock and Brimstone – all species I expect to encounter on sunny days in March. These butterflies hibernate as adult insects, unlike the delicate and very pretty Orange-tip, the next butterfly I’m likely to see. Last night, when out looking for roding Woodcock, I saw several Noctule bats. These large, fast-flying bats typically emerge from hibernation in mid-March – I guess that they wake up feeling hungry. I failed to see a Woodcock.
Next week I’m off with three pals on a birding trip to Extremadura in central Spain. Though our target birds will be bustards and sandgrouse, the specialities of the region, we should also encounter spring migrants such as cuckoos and swallows that have yet to reach as far north as England.
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