In my last post, I said it was too late for the house martins to raise a brood on my house this year – well, that’s exactly what they are doing!  A few days ago when I got home from work I noticed that the patch of droppings beneath the nest had continued to grow and then I heard the chirping coming from the nest above.

Today when I was out cutting my grass, I walked beneath the nest a few times and on each pass the chicks chirped loudly.  Looking up, I could see three little heads poking out through the narrow gap between the mud nest and the eaves.

Whilst it’s not at all unusual for house martin nests to be holding a brood of chicks at this time of year, I think it probably is quite unusual for a first brood to be so late.  These chicks will have a bit of catching up to do with their neighbours as the skies around my house have a few families of house martins flying around in groups.

Last weekend I was out at the Fenn’s, Whixall and Bettisfield Mosses and that area had very good numbers of both house martins and swallows.  The swallows appeared to be preparing to leave for their warmer wintering grounds in South Africa, with large groups collecting on the power lines alongside the canal.

Whilst summer is turning to autumn, it’s nice to see the migrants haven’t quite finished their breeding for this year.

With the summer migrants already starting to leave the country I had long ago given up any hope that the house martins would return to my house to breed this year…and they haven’t.

However, I was given some hope that maybe next year could be different. After spending much of the last two weeks working away, I returned home last Friday to find a small, but significant, scattering of droppings below the nest on the side of my house. It’s way too late for a pair to be starting to breed so I’m not too sure why house martins have started to use the nest. Maybe they’re youngsters who are now too large to all fit in their own nest – I’ll have to do some research.

I’m probably just grasping at straws but there is now a little more hope that they’ll return. There is a second house martin survey to do next year, monitoring an individual nest – it would be great it is was one on my own house!

I went for a cycle yesterday afternoon, the first for ages, and could see that harvest is well under way.  Cheshire is more dairy than arable but there are still quite a few fields given over to growing crops, including grain, potatoes and maize.

I’ve been pedalling around my usual route for years and I’ve mentally noted when the fields are harvested, particularly those on the road between Sound and Ravensmoor.  The timing of harvest this year is similar to last, perhaps a bit later, however, the few years before last saw much earlier harvest, back in mid-July.

In my mind, harvest should be in August or even September, and mixed in with the change of season into autumn – I’ve already noticed the earliest hints of a change in season.

..and it looked like there were plenty more to come.

…and we haven’t had summer yet!

When I opened the curtains this morning there was a low mist over the fields and as I left the house the temperature was well down into the single digits. We are now some way past the peak of the sun’s strength but this should still be the height of summer.

An early autumn, anyone?

(PS that’s a view from the train this morning not the one from my house, unfortunately)

This morning I woke about half an hour before my alarm and lay in bed cherishing those last few minutes before I had to crawl out from under my duvet. As I lay there, with a cool breeze flowing in through the window and the light starting to seep around the edges of the blinds, I noticed how quiet it was outside. There was near silence, apart from the ever present background rumble of a distant main road.

The peace was momentarily punctuated by a singing wren but he soon stopped. In the far distance there was a carrion crow calling as it flew over the cattle fields and an occasional short argument between jackdaws in the nearby sycamores.

Where has the vibrant and energised dawn chorus gone from the months past? Where is the song thrush starting its calling from the darkness, where is the blackbird slowly joining in and where is the robin backing them up?

It’s a sign that already the breeding season has moved on.

There are several reasons why the dawn chorus stops at this time of year. Some birds have finished breeding so there’s no need sing; they don’t maintain a territory once their fledglings have gone. Others may still have chicks in the nest and don’t sing to avoid attracting predators. Also, once breeding is over, the adult birds moult which makes them more vulnerable to predators; singing would just increase the risk.

It did strike me, lying there in almost silence, almost without bird song, that one day this could be the norm, even at the height of spring. Despite the efforts of conservationists, including amateurs like me, birds populations are continuing to decline. Without greater action, by many more people and organisations, a vibrant and rapturous dawn chorus could be a thing of the past – already it is much diminished.