It’s not been the best week. I live with an energy-limiting illness, so after giving a series of talks on my new book, I’ve needed several days in bed. And while I’ve been resting, battling the boredom of fatigue, every morning and evening a blackcap has serenaded me through my open window. His song is sweet and clear, despite the background rumbling of trains, planes and automobiles. He reminds me of wilder places beyond my bedroom.
My first blackcap of the year was by the wet meadows back in February, a melodious yet puzzling song, given the season. I knew that a growing number of blackcaps were spending the winter in the UK, but hadn’t realised that they can sometimes be heard tuning up in readiness for the breeding season. We’ve certainly noticed more blackcaps around in midwinter in recent years. One memorable January, we spotted a male on our leafless apple espaliers during the Big Garden Birdwatch. We could only assume he was unaware of the mass exodus traditionally undertaken by garden birds as soon as 600,000 bird lovers reach for their binoculars on the last weekend in January.
