Birds and their nests

A little moorhen or coot, perhaps his name is Danny

In spite of the torrential rain today the birds were all singing their hearts out. Listening to them was a constant reminder of how busy they are with their nests and preparing for their young. Blackbirds were eagerly snatching titbits from the wet earth and flying back to their nests to make sure Mrs. Blackbird was well fed. Swans were on parade keeping unwanted company well away from their nests. Ducks were swimming around in pairs and keeping the little ones tucked away in the rushes. All the trees looked fresh and green, the clear birdsong and the promise of all the new life hatching out, April is a very lively month.

Here is a poem by Thomas Hardy about the joyful sound of the spring birdsong

Proud Songsters

The thrushes sing as the sun is going

And the finches whistle in ones and pairs,

And as it gets dark loud nightingales in bushes

Pipe, as they can when April wears,

As if all Time were theirs.

These are brand-new birds of twelve- months growing

Which a year ago, or less than twain,

No finches were, nor nightingales,

Nor thrushes,

But only particles of grain,

And earth, and air, and rain.

Mr Swan on patrol