On the morning of Saturday 5th May a bunch of hardy people joined David Price (as one of the Bridford Trust’s resident bird watchers) to get up really early and experience the Bridford Dawn Chorus. David wrote the following report and says that he hopes everyone who came along felt that it was worth the effort, perhaps moderately interesting and maybe even enjoyable.
In order to provide you folk with a bit of a reminder of what we heard and saw, (and to whet the appetite of those that were still tucked up in bed), I thought I would write a bit of a summary of the morning’s happenings, together with descriptions of some of the main soloists that contributed to the event.
The morning started off before dawn with a stunningly clear moonlit sky, which gradually brightened from the east. There was little wind and it was reasonably mild – ideal conditions for listening to bird song.
Apart from a brief snatch of song from an insomniac Skylark as I arrived just after four o’clock, all was silent when we gathered at 04:30 on the two seats at the top of the park. I suggested that we should just listen to how quiet it was and enjoy the “sound of silence” – a bit of a rare commodity in this day and age at most places. However, I hadn’t bargained for some cows just over the hedge behind us who were munching away noisily, one of whom obviously had a bit of a “dicky tummy” with occasional graphic auditory consequences. Not quite the totally spiritual silence I’d hoped for! However, they subsequently moved off to a more distant part of the field and we were able to concentrate on the more “natural” sounds of the countryside.
First species up was the sweet singing Robin, with several starting to sing around 4:40. Robins are typical early risers, and with their big eyes are well equipped (once they’ve finished singing) to be one of the “early birds that catches the worm”. Blackbirds and a nearby Song Thrush joined in soon after and allowed us to hear the difference in their respective songs, with the Song Thrush feeling the need to repeat each of its short phrases two or three times.
In the distance we heard the “I’m sooo bored to-day” Woodpigeon’s song, compared with the other “pigeony bird”, the Collared Dove, which we encountered later on near the farm. Here The Collared Dove was living up to its football fan image and shouting out its three note chant – “U-nih-ted, U-nih-ted”.
We moved to the hay meadow area, where the Great Tit was demonstrating its rather limited two note “song” – reminding us of the boy at the back of the class with his hand up trying to attract attention with his repeated “Teacher, teacher, teacher”. Here there were also a couple of Wrens. Though this is one of our smallest birds, it has a really loud “in your face” song, invariably containing some machine-gun like repeated notes, and they certainly made sure we knew they were around.
Having got to grips with the Robin’s rather reflective song, we then picked up from the thick hedge in the corner the somewhat similar song of a more unusual species, – the Garden Warbler. Though similar to the Robin, this song was somewhat extended, rather rushed and more babbling. Despite containing a few raspy notes it was still, like the Robin, rather pleasant to listen to. Garden Warblers spend the winter in sub-Saharan Africa, and this particular bird had only arrived in the Woodland Park a couple of days earlier after its long northward journey. We didn’t see the bird, but I assured everyone that its plumage was not very exciting and really nothing more than shades of browny-grey. In this respect it lived up to its Latin name of Sylvia borin!
In one of the ash trees along the hedge next to the road we encountered the “Scottish Cricketer” in the form of the Chaffinch. It was perched high in the tree and was ably demonstrating its impression of a bowler running in to bowl, with a song that gathered speed until it eventually ended with a flourish, no doubt to represent the final delivery of the ball. Its other calls – “wick-et”, “chink”, and “wheet” (obviously the Scottish word for “wait”!) all had some cricketing significance.
We wandered over to Rowdon Valley Wood to hear some woodland birds, but the sound of rushing water from the brook, pleasant as it was, somewhat frustrated our attempts to listen to the birds. However we managed to hear the strong fluty warbling song of another Sylvia warbler, the Blackcap, from the thicket of willow and hazel near the lower path. Also we heard another two note specialist to rival the Great Tit. This was the Chiffchaff; a small leaf warbler, flitting about high in the canopy, and for its song kept on repeating its own name “chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff . . . . “. Not a very inspiring song to be saddled with for the whole of the summer, but I suppose as the bird’s name is based on its song – “it does what it says on the tin”
By the time we reached the notice board at the end of Rowdon Valley Wood it was turned 6 o’clock, the sun had been up for 20 minutes, and we’d been listening to birds for around an hour and a half . . . .and somehow the thought of coffee and croissants rather outweighed any immediate urges to learn more about bird song – (or anything else for that matter!). So we repaired to the Information Centre and suitably revived ourselves.
Whilst we heard a good number of birds, we didn’t actually see many of the performers, so just for your interest I attach a few photos of some of the players involved. The pictures of the Garden Warbler, photographed last year in the Woodland Park, and the Collared Dove in its “natural habitat” in the farm yard, are kindly provided by Tom Williams. Some of the others are of birds in the hand that I’ve caught in the past in Bridford for ringing
Thanks to the catering department (in the guise of Elisabeth) who provided sustenance for the troops and thanks to everyone who came along, and listened (with relative good humour) to my various rambling descriptions of the different birds and their songs. I hope you felt it was a worthwhile experience – (and that you have managed to catch up on lost sleep!)