The almonds here, which at present are blanketed in blossom, may be the most colourful crop-bearing trees in this part of mainland Greece. For sound, however, the olives win hands down. The groves surround every Maniot village and are more full of winter migrants – many of them summer birds further north – than any habitat I’ve encountered in Europe.
Every line of trees holds dozens: blackcaps, song thrushes with chiffchaffs and black redstarts. A tiered grove harbours hundreds; a hillside brims with thousands. While none of them probably nest here, they’re all starting to sing, if not full song then a kind of experimental pre-season rehearsal for the moment they occupy true breeding places. It is vigorous but cacophonous, and in one glorious moment, when I breasted a hillslope near Exochori village, up it blasted like a choral wind full of motes of fluted, warbling and harsher “takking” sounds, and it felt like spring made both audible and palpable.
