Melodious encounter with a family of redstarts

West Sussex The male calls three times, then segues into a short, complex phrase of tweets and whistles

The wind crashes through the tree tops, like the sea breaking on the shore, the great pines and silver birches that encircle the heathland swaying and shimmering. A red admiral butterfly rises from the heather, but it is snatched up by the wind and tumbles away too quickly for me to follow it.

I walk along the muddy track that threads between the trees. Where only last week the ground had been dry and parched, offering very little moisture to thirsty animals and birds, now all the pools are replenished with just one day's heavy rain. I stop to watch three goldfinches drink from a puddle in front of me.