St. Valentine saves the day!

After the seeming endless bleakness of January when signs of spring are confined to the paleness of snowdrop buds and tightly held hazel catkins, it is easy to become despondent and waiting becomes tedious, but as predictable as spring surely is, every little nature sign bursts forth in a volley of sights and events saving us from despair and St. Valentine saves the day!

When the first few weeks of February have been white and chill with snow the eye is keen to notice each and every sign of the spring to come. One Tuesday in the middle of February St. Valentine saves the day, the temperature rises, all thoughts of frost and snow melt away and the whole world seems to turn it’s thoughts to love! In the first dim light of day two Roe Deer feed side by side, their heart shaped white rump patches standing together in the darkness. Two Robins feed in company with one another, two Great tits call their see-saw notes from the Birch tree, Blue Tits give frantic chase and Wood Pigeons kiss on the ridge of the garage roof before flying off to collect sticks for their nest in the rafters. Against the morning sky, a huge flock of Canada Geese fly, passing overhead in an untidy noisy gaggle. What a joy it is to awake each morning to the spring-like sound of birdsong in the quickly lengthening days, Robin and Blackbird of course are first, followed closely by the loud authoritative speech from the Song Thrush, then a multitude of Tits and finches, whistling Nuthatch, laughing Mr Yaffle and the resonant drumming of the Great Spotted Woodpecker from among the Oaks. Even the return to the odd frosty morning does not deter the joyful woodland residents, as the treetops fill with twittering Goldfinches and a Red Kite glides above the whitened fields. Flocks of sheep are gathered together below the downs awaiting lambing time and Brown Hare, still awaiting their March ‘madness’, browse the new shoots appearing between the rows of last year’s stubble, their tall ears standing above the furrow ridges. It is indeed with joy that we notice it is still light at around 6pm and the sun is setting in soft stripes of pink and violet, peach and magenta against a cool duck egg blue sky. On weekend walks the skies are filled with soaring, mewing Buzzards sparring and tagging and generally enjoying the blue; among the bramble thickets and verges a large Bumble Bee ventures forth and a Red Admiral butterfly comes out from hibernation to test the air, and Herons dance in long legged flight around their nest site and the Rooks are already crowding their favourite tree tops. On sunny afternoons, below the Blackthorn hedge that awaits a good cold windy spell before its creamy white blossom buds burst, the banks are bright with golden celandine stars and nodding daffodils between the last of the January snowdops, making every day seem brighter.

This little February Valentine's piece has been written from previously gathered February jottings and observations, but this year it has to be noted that there are several things absent from our February morning as the month progresses, so far. January, and indeed the month before the Solstice, Yule and Christmas, brought a spell of freezing weather with a couple of weeks of ice, frost upon frost and snow flurries. Day and night passed with barely any change in temperature resulting in solid frozen ground and the cold creeping into the most hidden places. Was this prolonged chill to the detriment of some small birds? Certainly our local Wrens may well have been a casualty, although this tiny, cunning Druid bird has occasionally been spotted on the odd sunny day, whilst walking in our Sussex lanes, this vociferous little bird has been silent around our house since the festive season, when usually he makes himself heard mostly throughout each season. Indeed, during one recent winter, a Wren made his roost behind the boarding above one corner of our bedroom window. Each dawn he would appear to tick and scold then spread his stubby wings and glide down onto the bramble patch opposite and deliver a musical greeting to the dawn. The Druid bird is not the only absent friend this Valentine’s Day, there has been no Nuthatch calls up in the oak tree branches, no Yaffle bird has flown looping across the meadow laughing at his own jokes and the Admiral butterfly has yet to venture out but a Bumble has visited once or twice. But the sky is blue and the air today a little warmer so we will wait in hope for those delayed visits from our springtime friends.

Words and pictures by Artist and Druid © 2023 unless otherwise indicated.