Walking down to town around dusk last night, I heard my first singing blackbird of the season, which for me is always a sign, maybe the definitive sign, of spring. It may still be cold and even wintry, but if the blackbirds think it's spring, that's good enough for me. Further down I heard a song thrush, too. These are both wonderful singers, by I think the song thrush is too repetitive, and too fond of short bursts of stuff - the blackbird is a masterly singer, very inventive, and with a resonance and tone few other birds can match, probably none among our resident species.
The dusk chorus is almost as significant as the one at dawn, though less noticed. But I noted that the dawn chorus, although as yet a poor reflection of what will be happening come April and May, is getting loud enough to penetrate our double glazing, though happily no earlier than about a quarter to seven as yet. And the blackbird is, so far, its most mellifluous participant.
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