A foretaste of spring for the woodland birds
by Rob Yarham from on (#13BTF)
Burton Mill, West Sussex I make my way through the woodland to the willows and alder that edge the main pond
The morning rain has left the already-soaked footpaths even wetter - my boots sink deep into the mud. But the clouds have cleared and the sun is shining for the last hours of the day. The weak whistles of flocks of long-tailed tits carry through the thin silver birches, as the little birds flick from one tree to the next.
I make my way through the woodland to the willows and alder that edge the main pond. Jet-black coots, with their white beaks and foreheads glistening in the sunshine, dive for weed or emit their harsh, percussive calls. One of them noisily chases a grey-backed pochard and then a black and white tufted duck which have both strayed into its path.
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