A Mayo search for signs of spring reveals eager new leaves

COUNTRYFILE

IT was a slightly disconsolate walk through the woods – there should be company, with reminiscence over a twiggy fire on the lake shore.

Covid has put paid to that for the time being; there seems a glimmer of hope. We shall see.

I searched for signs of spring and found the eager new leaves of honeysuckle and above the wall an early starburst of oxlip. Only leaves, mind you. The flower stalks will appear in a month or more.

Apart from that the world remains asleep, which is how I feel I would like to be.

I fancy I see a swelling in the buds of willow and birch, but no, it is wishful thinking and nothing more, although there is certainly a rich hint of purple to be seen about the trees, especially when viewed from a distance.

I met up with a friend and we talked about fishing, with the ditch keeping us more than the required distance apart.

There might be no sharing of boats and river pools this year. Who knows how the coming weeks will unfold?

Back at home the stove continues to eat its way through my hard-won store of firewood.

It is comfort, though, to sit in warmth and listen to the hiss and crack of heat and to watch those merry flames awhile.

The great outdoors beckons continually and though I resist, it is not long before I find myself spiralling off in another direction, re-exploring the already-explored 5k radius of home.

I find a blackbird at the top of his chosen tree, trying out a few of his favourite tunes. A mild day lifted him there to cast his orange eye over his domain.

I find it hard to believe there will not yet be days of retreat. He'll be back to turning leaves under the hedgerow before the month is out.

There are plenty of migrant blackbirds about at present. A few things can help us know which ones these are.

For one thing they are quite happy spending time together, while the resident is less than pleased at having them in his territory.

At present he hops about behind them, just hoping to help them on their way.

As the days get longer he will become more and more intolerant and fights will begin breaking out.

Then he'll be back at the top of his tree, singing full measure, and those winter visitors will be turning their minds to home.

It isn't uncommon for blackbirds to begin nesting as early as the latter half of February, provided the weather is warm enough to bring out the bugs they depend upon to feed their young.

Most will hold off until the middle of March before getting down to business. This week is promised pretty cold.

Strange things are happening inside the Arctic Circle, with unusual heat driving freezing weather south in the form of a so-called Arctic outbreak.

The birds seem blissfully unaware of this. Even the male coal tit is feeding his wife fragments of peanut. 'Zizz' is all she has to say.

At least that is what comes to my clumsy, unattuned ears. No doubt he understands the true meaning of her words.

And I think he does, for his tail flicks with pleasure at her flurried wings and thin notes, and off he scampers, quick as you like, to fetch another morsel.