47. The Dawn Chorus

cheep cheep cheep

TWEET tweet TWEET tweet

chipchipchipchipchipchip

kAARRRKKKKkarrKKKKKkAAARRKKKKKK (think this one's got a bad throat)

swirrrrswirrrswirrrrrswirrrrr

WAAHHHHWAAHHHHHWAHwahWAHWAHWAHWAHHHHWAHHHHHH (thanks Seagulls)


From Sparrow's Fart to when the men next door, in the park and over the road start with the hammers and drills.

One little birdie thought that the entire night was the dawn - such is London's inability ever to be completely dark. Poor little thing, it was quite hoarse by the morning. I only thought about catapults once or twice.

I'm glad that I can hear a Dawn Chorus, it means that this most urban of places has room within it for Nature, despite the 100 foot crane and the skips and the scaffolding and the drills and the brick dust.

Also, it means it's Spring!

PS - I learned about the Dawn Chorus from a book. Surprise! 'Beryl's Wonderful Week' - by Madeleine Collier. Published in 1944. Loved it.