We are are fast approaching my favourite time of the year. In January I look for the first snowdrops to appear, in February it’s the first daffodils to bloom in my garden, but for me the turning point of the year is hearing my first Chiffchaff, which is invariably in the middle of March. No song is easier to identify than the Chiffchaff’s simple, onomatopoeic chant which finally confirms that spring has arrived. In the last few decades I’ve heard my first Chiffchaff earlier each year. In a fascinating book called Seventy Years of Birdwatching, H.G.Alexander charted the arrival date of summer migrants in England from 1897 to 1968. His average date for the first chiffchaff was 24 March – my average date is fully 10 days earlier. Is climate change the reason? It does seem the most likely explanation.

A spring Chiffchaff

Chiffchaffs are small, brown and undistinguished, but their song is distinctive

A century ago it was almost unheard of for Chiffchaffs to overwinter in England, but they now do so in increasing numbers, though most still head for the Mediterranean, for this is a short-distance migrant. However, overwintering birds rarely sing, and we usually have to wait until a warm day in March before we hear the first song. Unlike many woodland birds, chiffchaffs are doing well in England, and soon the woods will be full of singing birds. Incidentally, Chiffchaffs are rather plain, small brown birds, with no distinctive features except their cheerful song.

A drake Garganey, or Summer Teal

A cock Northern Wheatear on spring migration. The first returning birds arrive in England in March

Sand Martins are always the first of the hirundines to return to England, and can usually be found in late March (photograph by Martin Garwood)

There are a number of other early migrants that you can see in England in March if you are lucky. These include Wheatears, Sand Martins and a delightful duck called the Garganey. It’s the only duck that’s a summer migrant to Britain, where it is a rare breeding bird. The Garganey’s old name was Summer Teal, for it is a small, teal-sized duck, and only with us in spring and summer. It’s a handsome bird, too, as you can see from my photograph, taken on Cley marshes in North Norfolk.

An April Swallow. The long tail streamers indicate that this bird is a male

There’s an old English saying that one Swallow doesn’t make a summer, but I always feel that it’s a jolly good start. Though I have seen March Swallows in France, I have never yet done so in England, though I once saw one on 1 April. Alexander’s average date of arrival was 9 April, which is the same as mine. It’s invariably the males that come back first, and they will often visit last year’s nest when they return, but the visit is usually only brief, and you might not see them again for another week or 10 days. Cool weather and northerly winds invariably delay their arrival, and in a late spring they are often difficult to find before mid-April. 

Cock Nightingales start singing as soon as they get back their breeding territories in mid April

Nightingales are early migrants, and as they start singing as soon as they return, in a bid to establish their territories and attract passing females, they are easy to locate. Sadly, finding a singing Nightingale close to my home has become a real challenge, as they have become exceedingly scarce. The reason for their calamitous decline appears to be introduced Muntjac deer browsing out their favoured nesting habitat. 

The song of the Cuckoo is a favourite sound of spring

Perhaps of all the summer birds, the most keenly awaited is the Cuckoo.  Though my earliest-ever Cuckoo was on 9 April, my average date in Suffolk is around 21 April. I am lucky to live in a part of England where Cuckoos remain relatively common, and once I hear my first I expect to hear their evocative, far-carrying song almost every day until they stop singing and head back to Africa at the end of June. We always think of Cuckoos as British birds, but really they are African birds that grace us with their presence for just a couple of months each year. If I could be a bird, then I would opt to be a Cuckoo: lots of travel (they winter in the rainforests of the Congo), no children to worry about, and only a simple song to sing. However, I’m not sure that I fancy their diet of hairy caterpillars. 

Written by David T
David Tomlinson has been interested in birds for as long as he can remember, and has been writing about them for almost as long. An annual highlight is hearing his first cuckoo of the year at home in Suffolk, England, which he rates as almost as exciting as watching White-necked Rockfowls in Ghana or Steller’s Eiders in North Norway. A former tour leader, he has seen an awful lot of birds around the world, and wishes he could remember more of them.As for the name of David's beat, here is an explanation in his own words: "Brecks (Breckland) does need an explanation - it’s the name for the region on the Suffolk/Norfolk borders, renowned for its free-draining sandy soils. It has the closest to a Continental climate of anywhere in the UK. At its heart is Thetford Forest, which has the biggest population of nightjars of anywhere in the UK. The stone curlew is the other special bird of the region, again with the biggest population in the UK (over 250 pairs)."