cuckoo

  • Nature Notes

    A Windmill for Kites. On the last morning of my 49th year, I woke to the cuckoo calling loudly through the open window, from Nightingales Wood. I dreamt his first woodwind notes, before I realised they were real. The year before last, he didn’t come at all – and I feared that would be it. […]

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  • Nature Notes

    Swallows and Gold Days. There is an absence of Swallows. A solitary bird returned to the wires at Coldharbour Farm a month ago and has only just been joined by another. I’ve seen others passing through, a brief gloss of navy blue, the twitter of several birds issued from one red throat; but the mud […]

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  • Nature Notes

    Cherry Dew. The scent of cherry laurel in the keepered woods is a sensory mnemonic: it triggers a search. The bluebells are emerging where the canopy is native and open and, near the badger sett, I go looking for toothwort and find it. A ghostly wildflower that lacks chlorophyll and springs from tree roots, it […]

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  • Nature Notes

    A Hill from Home The children are at mum’s and we have run to the hills – the Tors of Dartmoor, to be exact. But it seems we have homed in on a familiar shape. From our starting point in pretty South Zeal, the ‘Dome of Dartmoor’ looms against a blessedly fair sky that I […]

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