It is something everyone ought to have a go at sometime or other, that is get up before dawn to listen to the dawn chorus. I did it at Flanders last Friday, for the first time sampling it from the viewing tower and it was magical. With sunrise being 0530 it was a bit of a struggle getting there early enough but I managed to be in the tower 10 mins. before the sun came up, well dressed to deal with the cold westerly wind. Of course the dawn chorus doesn't just start on the dot of sunrise and there were already lots of birds singing in the half-light as I climbed the stairs. At least 3 willow warblers were pouring out their delicate warble, a grasshopper warbler was reeling away, a chaffinch clattered and a wren rattled and trilled. Gradually as the light grew stronger more birds got in on the act, 2 male pheasants yelled at each other, the cuckoos started competing against each other, up to 4 different birds at one time, a male redstart chiruped and squeaked away at tree to level and a great tit gradually worked through its reptoire of calls. Of course it was not all beautiful singing, the common gulls on the pool by the boardwalk suddenly woke up and every so often would start hysterically laughing like a bunch of teenagers at a bus stop and in the woodland edge the harsh barking of a couple of roe deer made me jump. At 0530 there was no sudden burst of light as the rising sun was being blocked by low lying cloud, just a slow increase in light intensity as if the dimmer switch was being turned up. The Kippen bells marked 0600 and then at 0615 the sun suddenly topped the cloud and burst onto the top of the Menteith Hills in the west. With the sun rising higher a golden carpet of warmth rolled across the Moss accelerating the wake up and eventually reaching the viewing tower. Activity increased with the sun with a cuckoo incurring the wrath of 2 meadow pipits who chased it off, a couple of teal worriedly kee, kee'ed by the boardwalk and a redshank fluttered across a marshy bit. Overhead a small group of late pinkfeet headed north, 3 black-headed gulls and a couple of immature lesser black-backed gulls mooched over in the opposite direction. By 0730 things seemed to be quietening down and the rhythm of the day had been set, my stomach was telling me that it was time for breakfast so I headed off to find some and start work. 25 different species of bird were seen and heard in 2 seemingly very short hours and though when the alarm had gone off at 0430 I had questioned the idea by breakfast time I was feeling fulfilled, enriched, smug and superior and thought it had been the best idea I had had all year. You don't have to know your birdsong though to enjoy the event so why not give it a go ?
