Many of the natural sounds of spring and summer are fading. The glorious sound of blackbirds is tailing off. Blackcaps and chiffchaffs sing less and less, and I haven’t heard a robin for quite a while now.
The woods and fields are getting quieter. A bit of me is sad about that, especially as blackbird song is a wonderful, simple pleasure that will quite soon disappear until early next year. But it’s all part of the natural cycle. Feathers are appearing on the ground as the birds moult and rest after their exertions. They’ve done their bit.
I sat for a while in a field near the river and listened hard. A low drone of insects, a few skylarks, yellowhammers calling from the hedgerows, the hooves of a horse keeping gentle four four time on a distant road…
There’s more space around the sounds, and in many ways it’s easier to home in on them, to concentrate. That makes me more grateful than ever for what I’m hearing and what I’ve heard. It’s a stark reminder of what we often take for granted – and that’s never a bad thing.