What a difference a week makes

Skipping steps...a rapeseed field, near Longfield, Kent

It's amazing what difference a week makes. Last weekend I was restlessly gazing out at the drizzle and the slow, slow skies. The ground here was parched and the clouds were heavy. A pair of Treecreepers in a Long-tailed tit flock on any other day would've been a result. But my heart was set on hirunds, phylloscs and sylvias; at least it turns out that I didn't have to wait long. Things are suddenly green again! And the birds are back...

While on the marsh on Tuesday, checking the progress of our nesting Lapwings, a lone Swallow drifted through my scope's field of view. April 10th - my first of the year. It was headed north west; the opposite direction from that day last September at Dungeness when I watched thousands stream across the beach and over the channel.

Wednesday brought the return of another iconic migrant to the marshes. I was half-asleep at six thirty but vaguely aware of the world. I heard the sparrows first (as always) and then out of nowhere, in the distance, a faint but undeniable 'Cuckoo.....Cuckoo'. It startled me awake and I smiled, remembering what Christmas used to feel like. Another first of the year, had it come in over night? The same morning Cuckoos were popping up all over Kent. The BTO give their average first date of arrival as April 19th so are these early birds or is it a sign of the times? We can learn a lot from these studies, given the potential they have to highlight wider environmental changes. Cuckoos are among the most fleeting of migrants. Free of brood responsibilites, by the beginning of June, adults will already be preparing for their epic journey back.

Thursday, the migrants just kept on coming: Garganey, Marbled duck, Humboldt Penguin, Ruppells Vulture. Ha! (I went to London Zoo) But more on that another time...

Out on the reserve today to get our heads around the complexities of Bearded Tit surveys, Simon and I both clocked a wheezy but distinct 'ptew...ptew' from somewhere nearby. Mentally rumaging through the old grey stuff, it finally clicked: a pair of Yellow Wagtail ducking down into a nearby farmer's field. Today however was all about the return of Luscinia megarhynchos. Mega in name and song: the Nightingale. The first bird was reported back at Northward Hill on Wednesday (April 11th) with at least two recorded in yesterday. I caught the tail end of that trilliping, gorgeous yell this evening, skipping like a worn out record from a patch of bramble nearby. Amazing, and it's only just beginning.

Stonechat (Saxicola torquata) a male in his finery. Cliffe, April 2012