A male bittern booms loud and clear throughout the morning. There are three on the Reserve and the habitat they favour is carefully prepared to encourage their successful breeding. Three marsh harrier fly above us. A clear blue sky is reflected in freshwater pools ruffled by the wind.
There’s fresh snow on distant fells and a sparkling frost on the boardwalk at Leighton Moss. Willow catkins are full of pollen and attract bees. A few weeks ago mature willow crowns were red-gold. Now they burst into leaf in a haze of fresh green.
A male bittern booms loud and clear throughout the morning. There are three on the Reserve and the habitat they favour is carefully prepared to encourage their successful breeding. Three marsh harrier fly above us. A clear blue sky is reflected in freshwater pools ruffled by the wind.
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Rain struck the roof of the veranda outside Sizergh Cafe where we gathered to look for hawfinch. They come seeking hornbeam seeds, now scattered below trees adorned with catkins. Our guide Rob Pocklington told us that sometimes, if it's quiet, he can hear hawfinch cracking the seed with their heavy bills. We saw male and female hawfinch but the rain persisted so light levels were low. You need a telescope or strong sunlight for good sightings. Subsequently, we walked to Brigsteer Park and the rain had almost stopped. How different from the warmth and bright sun of Saturday! Not a butterfly in sight. Wild daffodils bloom in the upturned root-plate of a tree brought down in a winter storm. This is the season for the flora of the herb layer, before leaf-buds open and the canopy shadows the woodland floor. A twig of cones has snagged on a slender tree as the conifer came down. Creepers spiral round and round branches. Ivy berries give food for birds and we come upon a spectacular ivy tree, the host's bare branches peeping through a garment of ivy. Sunlight pours down into Brigsteer Wood where mature trees have been felled and we can see the pools at Park End Moss from high in the wood. If you want to hear talking trees walk the Coffin Route from Rydal Church. On a sunlit winter's day they cast long and spooky shadows. On this bright March morning they still stop us in our tracks, familiar and puzzling. Some seem to defy gravity, like this mighty oak which overhangs a bluff, high above Rydal Water. Great branches take surprising twists and turns. It's a host tree with holly leaves at its heart although the oak is still tight in bud. A low branch is hollow and filled with stones, as if ready to arm the sling of young David about to take on Goliath. A pair of goldeneye showed from Causeway Hide, the handsome male in lively diving sequence and rarely surfacing for long. A bittern boomed intermittently, a bass resonating call. The bright sun lit the seeding bulrush which rose proud of the reed beds in a way that seemed unfamiliar. We couldn't understand it. Later that morning, we met a Reserve warden who told us of starling murmurations of 70,000 birds that descended into the reed beds to roost, and flattened them. On a beautiful March morning I find the first blackthorn flowers on Helsington Barrows. The same bush flowers first each spring. Rich cream buds open to white flowers and lichens colour the twigs. The crimson female flowers of larch appear. Male flowers are smaller, dense and soft green. Leaf buds have clusters of sharp-green needles. The fresh growth of spring shows amidst clusters of last summer’s dark cones. The morning if full of fragrance and the urgency of spring. A pair of long-tailed tits dances through the trees, calling to each other. Frogs hasten through the grass, down to the lake to add to the clots of frogspawn amongst the water lilies. A female makes haste, slowly, burdened with a male who clutches her in amplexus, eager to mate. One female bears three males on her back. Sunlight pours down through the canopy, colouring new twigs, catkins and tree-flowers. Most leaf-buds are still tight-closed and this is the season when light penetrates to the herb layer where daffodils and celandine flourish. There's a buzz of life all around. Aerial, he sees me photographing the tree he's felling. 'Ash die-back,' he yells down to me. 'Not if it's not ash.' I call back. Impossible to be sure how many trees have been felled on what was an embankment, now excavated and demolished. I counted some hundred tree stumps among a debris of stone wall toppled. When I find the planning application map re development off Brigsteer Road I'm incandescent with fury. Take a look, it's SL/2020/0783 Jets roar low over Ambleside and Rydal. One flies so low over Grasmere Lake the fells rise above it. We can’t help feeling the air-force is on alert because of Putin's invasion of Ukraine. They're loud but not threatening, yet it feels ominous. Next day, President Zelensky of Ukraine addresses a packed House of Commons, invoking Churchill's defiance of Hitler. Zelensky isn't wracked by Hamlet's indecision, 'to be or not to be.' Zelensky is for survival. So, to the theme of resilience. |
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