Here I was thinking I’d write a post on spring in April or May, holding off until it is in full flow. What a ridiculous assumption that was. The last couple of weeks have been really special. Signs of spring everywhere and just so much general ‘natureness’ going on has got me way too excited not to share some of my recent experiences with you all.

So grab yourself a brew. The greatest season of them all has arrived.

This month has been incredible for wildlife. First off, we now have a male Tawny Owl roosting in the garden. Not a bad place to start. He had been calling out for a mate every night for about a fortnight, until last week I finally heard a female respond. Let’s hope he did enough to impress her! To see him perched atop a conifer in plain sight one night was quite something, and a reminder of just how close we live to these wonderful wise old birds, usually without even knowing. A small group of squabbling Greenfinches have also taken up residence in the nearest Sycamore. I am really hoping that they soon move over to one of the conifers - they’re preferred nesting habitat, but we shall see. The males are singing, trying their very best to pair up so I am certainly hopeful.

Not long back, I found a fungi first for me, and one which I really wasn’t expecting. If you’ve been following my blog for a little while now, you will have heard me mention the Scarlet Elf Cup. So many times however, I have come across the turquoise stained wood from the mycelium of a Green Elf Cup - but until now, never the actual fruiting bodies. As I turned over a decaying Oak log though, the rare sighting of those tiny little blue-green goblets had at last came into fruition. Not a typical sign of spring itself, but perhaps a clear sign of the various colour bursts that are inevitably just around the corner.

The usual suspects of spring flora have been starting to poke their heads through this week also. I have spotted masses of Lesser Celandine starting to flower in my local woods, Colt’s Foot and even Wood Anemones are starting to rise. We associate plants such as Lesser Celandine with being one of springs earliest risers, and this is because it prefers to harness as much sunlight as possible before the tree canopies start to regain momentum, and shade out the ground.

The nearby park is now bursting with Snowdrops and Crocuses, and this is another location currently being favoured by Tawny Owls. Horse Chestnut buds are sticky and swelling. Wild Primrose are flourishing and the aroma of Wild Garlic is filling the air.

The spring equinox has officially kicked off its warm awakening.

Thanks to the spring equinox, I am now in full on, constant nature-euphoria mode. In work early yesterday, I took a trip down to the riverside to check for any springtime activity. Tis the season for many breeding birds to begin that familiar old cycle and on my way down, I noticed Buzzards and Sparrowhawks flying by the previous years’ nesting sites, and a pair of Coots on the pond starting the initial phases of building their rather untidy looking nests. One half of the pair began to snap its beak together, making a loud clicking noise. I hadn’t witnessed this behaviour before, but I took this as my cue to move back a little! It is always important to give the upmost respect to wildlife at this vital time of year.

I was quickly drawn to a right old ruckus going on further along the edge, as two typically noisy Little Grebes chased each other, skimming over the waters surface. They were displaying their classic chestnut cheeks, which they develop during the breeding season.

A closer observation of the margins revealed a real treat. Large quantities of frogspawn (yet to find toad spawn!) were apparent, and a Grey Heron flew away as I had walked past - no doubt gorging on the new, gelatinous, spherical morsels. I could see the surface of the water gently rippling. As I crouched down I noticed an abundance of Common Toads, recently who will have recently migrated from their overwintering sites to the pond to breed.

As I continued on my journey, I was met at the river by two Dippers darting up and down the stretch. A truly wonderful bird to watch, the Dipper gets its name due to the little ‘dipping’ dance that it will regularly display. This is a bird that can literally walk underwater, and this is just one of the many reasons why they are my favourite. Dippers have healthy numbers along the river Derwent, and I live in hope that the frantic flying behaviour that I witnessed, was indeed from a pair, and that a clutch of eggs will be appearing somewhere along the river bank in the not so distant future.

I was in a particularly jubilant mood yesterday after not only hearing my maiden Chiffchaff - returning from its winter migration to southern Europe or western Africa, but also spotting my first Butterfly and Bumblebee of 2021 - a stunning Comma and a White-tailed queen. This takes some beating for me, but I can’t think about finishing this post without rewinding to three weeks back, when a late afternoon walk turned into one of those unforgettable wildlife encounters.

This magical bird goes by many nicknames. One of which is the ‘scream owl’. On this occasion however, there was none of that going on. Just a silent ghost, gliding through the open pasture, picking off its prey with absolute precision. Effortless.

Clambouring through the scrub, I reached the field perimeter. Keeping low, out of sight and at distance, I was able to watch this perfect animal manoeuvre the open air with such skill, it was quite literally breathtaking. As the Barn Owl sat proud on a fence post, that was my moment.

Sometimes you just get lucky.

Spring has barely even got itself going, especially in the North of England, but it’s certainly time to start paying attention. New life is starting to stir around us, just waiting for us to connect with it.

If this is just the beginning, then I can guarantee you now that spring this year, will without question be the gift that keeps on giving.