The pipit descending

It is at this time of the year that my morning walks are accompanied by a fine serenade, delivered from on high by the delightful tree pipit. This is another of our summer migrants, arriving here in mid-April to breed in semi-open habitats. Although there are several pairs breeding in that part of the forest where I make my steady morning circuit, one particular bird has a territory which is clearly bisected by one of the forest rides that I use. This fortunate fact means that I often receive my own personal performance, the bird rising silently from a favoured perch, climbing into the air rapidly before cresting above my head. It is then that the song begins, a clear and far reaching set of phrases that intensify as the bird slowly descends back to earth. Each descent is slowed by the way in which the bird fans its tail and holds its wings above its tiny body. Legs dangling, the bird is like a miniature parachutist dropping back to ground. It is a fantastic display and I feel privileged to witness it.

I do not meet this display every morning, for on some days the pipit remains perched, still singing to proclaim ownership of his territory but the song lacks the intensity heard when delivered on the wing. Casual observers often dismiss the tree pipit, the apparent trickiness in separating the bird from the other pipit species brings with it a reluctance to accept that it is anything other than a little brown bird. And while the plumage may lack the showy brashness seen in certain other species, there is a subtle beauty to its markings that triggers a deep sense of appreciation in me.

The forest holds significant numbers of breeding tree pipits but they are also found in areas of woodland edge and scrubby downland across other parts of the county (though not in the uplands). It is the combination of sparse open ground for foraging and trees for song posts that is needed by the tree pipit. The nest will be a shallow depression on the ground, usually hidden in low cover. For a summer migrant the breeding season is surprisingly protracted, the first eggs will have already been laid and the last young won’t fledge until August. The display flight is at its most noticeable early in the season but even when the birds are engaged in feeding young, they will still be there sitting sentinel on the young pines, pumping their tails downwards in a wagtail like fashion. All the while they will be adding to the delight of my early morning walks, another player in the forest’s summer pageant.