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You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2018/may/08/country-diary-marshes-alive-birdsong-waltham-brooks-sussex
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| Version 0 | Version 1 |
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| Country diary: the marshes are alive with the sound of birdsong | Country diary: the marshes are alive with the sound of birdsong |
| (7 months later) | |
| The wind is brisk and cold, but the rain has stopped, the morning mist is dispersing and the sun is breaking through the cloud. My boots sink into mud and waterlogged grass with every step. I have to leap across submerged ditches and pools to avoid wading up to my calves through the water. | The wind is brisk and cold, but the rain has stopped, the morning mist is dispersing and the sun is breaking through the cloud. My boots sink into mud and waterlogged grass with every step. I have to leap across submerged ditches and pools to avoid wading up to my calves through the water. |
| I stop and listen to the birdsong rising from the trees, bushes and reeds all around the Brooks. | I stop and listen to the birdsong rising from the trees, bushes and reeds all around the Brooks. |
| Some of the birds – reed buntings and Cetti’s warblers – have been here all winter, but others have only recently arrived, and now they’re all in good voice: scratchy whitethroats, rhythmic reed warblers, panicky sedge warblers, explosive, sweary Cetti’s warblers, and a chiming cuckoo. In the distance, I can hear the occasional snatches of a nightingale’s virtuoso song, its loud, pure notes carried across the marsh on the wind. | Some of the birds – reed buntings and Cetti’s warblers – have been here all winter, but others have only recently arrived, and now they’re all in good voice: scratchy whitethroats, rhythmic reed warblers, panicky sedge warblers, explosive, sweary Cetti’s warblers, and a chiming cuckoo. In the distance, I can hear the occasional snatches of a nightingale’s virtuoso song, its loud, pure notes carried across the marsh on the wind. |
| The whitethroat expresses both acacia thorn and bramble | |
| Large black St Mark’s flies – males with long hind legs dangling behind them – float in the air. Black and white house martins and brown and cream sand martins fly low to feed on the emerging insects. One by one they swoop down, stall and then flap hard to climb again, before flying around for another pass. | Large black St Mark’s flies – males with long hind legs dangling behind them – float in the air. Black and white house martins and brown and cream sand martins fly low to feed on the emerging insects. One by one they swoop down, stall and then flap hard to climb again, before flying around for another pass. |
| A reed bunting lands in a tall bramble bush, a male with a smart black cap and white collar, and a brown patterned back. It carries a crane fly in its beak. It swallows the insect down, wipes its bill clean on a twig, and sings. It’s a sharp, short song – two brief whistles followed by a lower trill: “seep, seep, trrr ... seep, seep, trrr.” | A reed bunting lands in a tall bramble bush, a male with a smart black cap and white collar, and a brown patterned back. It carries a crane fly in its beak. It swallows the insect down, wipes its bill clean on a twig, and sings. It’s a sharp, short song – two brief whistles followed by a lower trill: “seep, seep, trrr ... seep, seep, trrr.” |
| I trudge on through the mud to the riverbank. The sun is bright, but it’s still cold. White butterflies – small whites, green-veined whites and an orange tip – flicker over the vegetation. The cuckoo calls again, closer this time. It lands in the top of a willow in the middle of the marsh and balances, leaning forward and holding its long tail and pointed wings down. It calls again before flying away. | I trudge on through the mud to the riverbank. The sun is bright, but it’s still cold. White butterflies – small whites, green-veined whites and an orange tip – flicker over the vegetation. The cuckoo calls again, closer this time. It lands in the top of a willow in the middle of the marsh and balances, leaning forward and holding its long tail and pointed wings down. It calls again before flying away. |
| Against the blue sky, swallows are moving inland, and, higher still, I can see my first returning swifts of the spring – black, long-winged and elegant – soaring in large, joyful circles. | Against the blue sky, swallows are moving inland, and, higher still, I can see my first returning swifts of the spring – black, long-winged and elegant – soaring in large, joyful circles. |
| Spring | Spring |
| Country diary | Country diary |
| Birds | Birds |
| Insects | Insects |
| Rivers | Rivers |
| Wildlife | Wildlife |
| Rural affairs | Rural affairs |
| features | features |
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