Time waits for no one

Wren with nesting material (Russell F Spencer)

Blink and you will miss it. Spring that is. I always find the transition from winter birding to spring migrant watching difficult. Laziness is the name of the game during the dark months of winter. I get up late and infrequently drag myself down to The Scrubs. Then all of a sudden things start to change. Buds appear, the first bumblebees start gingerly fly around inspecting any orifice that they stumble across and of course, with the change in the weather comes the bird song and migrants.

Well, that's the running order on paper. Usually, there are several false dawns when the weather seems nice then the next day you die from hyperthermia. Last week we recorded our first Wheatear and since then nothing, apart from several Chiffchaffs. It's easy to become despondent. You think, oh I'll just stay in bed this morning, especially as there has been no movement for the past few days. Sods law, the morning that you kip in is the morning when a great migrant touches down on your patch.

I'm not going to fall into my usual trap. I'm going to break my balls (as often quoted in Scorsese's Goodfellas) and make sure I cover my patch this spring. I want to be there to welcome that magical bird - whatever it may be.