The electrical junction box, fixed to the top of the roadside telegraph pole, displays a yellow sign that warns “Danger of death”. Not that the bird perched on top seemed the slightest bit concerned – the acoustics are exceptional.
I was first woken one snowy morning early in January to short bursts of drilling outside the window. While I’m familiar with the territorial sounds of woodpeckers in my village, which lies close to the historic landmark of Brentor church, this noise was different. It had the resonance of someone impatiently tapping their fingers on a desktop, with the speed of a marching band snare-drum roll.
