The woods near my house were the inspiration for my work - walking through a seemingly unremarkable patch of downland scarp woodland, I came to love the variety of trees, the emergence and succession of flowering plants, and above all, the hundreds of birds that call it their home.
During the strange times of 2020, I left little tags on trees to let passers-by know what they were seeing. I had some lovely feedback, and in 2021 did the same but with birdsong. People were so pleased to finally recognise the songs they were hearing, tying the sound to a name and a picture. I realised I had found a way of reaching more people than I could possibly fit on my clubs, groups and events, and, together with my talented friend Adam McNaught-Davis, decided to embark on a more detailed community project.
During the strange times of 2020, I left little tags on trees to let passers-by know what they were seeing. I had some lovely feedback, and in 2021 did the same but with birdsong. People were so pleased to finally recognise the songs they were hearing, tying the sound to a name and a picture. I realised I had found a way of reaching more people than I could possibly fit on my clubs, groups and events, and, together with my talented friend Adam McNaught-Davis, decided to embark on a more detailed community project.
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Just this last week I have been hearing chiff-chaffs, a summer visitor from Africa. They are mostly a woodland bird, but for a chiff-chaff, any clump of trees counts as a wood, so you could well hear it. I can hear them in the trees that skirt the Downs. Like a robin, you can hear them calling, then listening to a reply, then calling again. One of the easiest birds to identify by their call, as they say their name. The only thing you might get it confused with is a great tit or coal tit, but the chiff-chaff's notes are less varied. Listen to all three, to distinguish them.
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The smartly dressed great tit calls “tea-cher, tea-cher”, often starting with “-cher”. He calls in variations of this theme.
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The wren has a loud, high pitched warble and trill, repeated. The Victorians added Jenny to the name, though this has not persisted. If you can’t see it, but it’s making a heck of a loud noise from a bush somewhere, it’s probably a wren. The wren is the second smallest bird in Britain (after the goldcrest). Small but noisy!
Here’s how Robert MacFarlane describes it in The Lost Words: |
When wren whirrs from stone to furze the world around her slows, for wren is quick,
so quick she blurs the air through which she flows, yes -
Rapid wren is needle, rapid wren is pin – and wren’s song is sharp-song, briar song,
thorn-song, and wren’s flight is dart-flick, flick-flight, light-flight, yes -
Each wren etches, stitches, switches, glitches, yes -
Now you think you see wren, now you know you don’t.
Compare it with the call of the chaffinch - both calls have a similar pattern, but the wren’s is faster and sweeter. The dunnock also has a similar, loud call, again from somewhere unseen, but its calls are more varied than the wren. A dunnock looks similar to a female house sparrow. I can't hear sparrows from my garden, sadly, but they love the hedge outside Milton Grange.
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I learnt the chaffinch bird call from Enid Blyton, (Five Have a Wonderful Time,) when I was about eight years old. She describes him as saying “chip-chip-chip, cherry–erry–erry, chipee–oo-ee-ar.” Said fast enough, it’s pretty accurate! The males have a lovely pinkish breast and blue–grey cap, though the females resemble sparrows in their colouring. The chaffinch often sings from an exposed branch, so it's quite easy to spot.
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Tell your wood pigeon and collared dove apart by the pattern of their calls: the wood pigeon is “hoo HOO hoo, hoo-hoo", whilst the collared dove is “coo-COOOO, coo”.
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The noisiest ones in my garden today are the goldfinches. Their calls are a varied chattering, not particularly tuneful, but very uplifting. They often move across the tops of trees and bushes, in a group, chattering like excited children to one another. They are conspicuous, especially in their bobbing, twittering flight, with the flashes of gold on their wings.
Listen to this enchanting song about the goldfinch from The Lost Words, with illustrations created by the artist Jackie Morris. Collectively, they are “a charm of finches." Country Life magazine has an interesting article on the collective nouns for British Birds. |
Corvids (not a spelling mistake): The term refers to members of the crow family, nothing to do with any viruses.... Larger birds, omnivorous, large bills and raucous calls.
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A magpie looks like no other British bird. Its call is a sharp “chacka”, often repeated quickly This is another bird whose name had a Victorian addition – they were previously known as pie, or pie bird, before the addtition of “Maggie”, shortened to “Mag”.
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Rooks proclaim a loud “caar”. These are the birds who nest in the trees on Albert Parade. Distinguished from a crow by a white ring around the base of its bill. They are, unlike crows, very sociable birds, and like many corvids, highly intelligent.
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Jackdaw repeats a chattering “cha”. I often watch then swooping in flocks above Old Town, tumbling and twisting in the air for the very joy of it. Listen to a group together, you can almost interpret their speech as they vary the length of the pauses and tone. You can distinguish them by their grey necks.
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If you are near a wooded area, you might also hear:
- The gorgeously coloured jay which has a typical corvid harsh screech (a bit like a squirrel call.)
- Great spotted woodpecker, calling “tak”, like a squeakier magpie
- The green woodpecker’s high pitched laugh, usually 7 or 8 notes
- The nuthatch, who descends tree trunks head-first whilst looking for insects to eat, calling a high pitched “hooitt”
- The gorgeously coloured jay which has a typical corvid harsh screech (a bit like a squirrel call.)
- Great spotted woodpecker, calling “tak”, like a squeakier magpie
- The green woodpecker’s high pitched laugh, usually 7 or 8 notes
- The nuthatch, who descends tree trunks head-first whilst looking for insects to eat, calling a high pitched “hooitt”
Some for the evening.....
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The song thrush often sings loudly in still weather, morning and evening, from high places, it’s clear call sounding out over many gardens. It repeats phrases twice, and sounds a bit like a slightly harsher blackbird.
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Ah, the blackbird. Arguably the finest songster in Britain. A very varied, musical whistle, with long phrases. First to sing in the morning (about 5am, now), mostly quieter during the day, and last to sing at night. It then issues its alarm call as if to say, “That’s it, I’m off to bed, I’m not on the look-out any more, take care everyone. See you at first light.”
The Beatles “Blackbird” is my favourite song of all time. I once woke up in the dead of night, in anxious teenage years, to hear a blackbird singing. It has stayed with me ever since. 
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When all our restrictions are passed, come for a walk with me. We will find these birds, and more besides. We will move slowly and gently through their worlds, listen to their interactions, find their preferred singing spot. I like to end such a walk on the Downs, where, pouring from the sky, comes the liquid song of the lark.
Stay safe. Stay connected. To each other, and to the Earth.
Sarah
Cherry Wood Adventures
April 2020