Woodlark revival

It is another bright morning, a clear blue sky and the crunch of last night’s frost underfoot. Keeping up a good pace along the forest rides means that I am soon comfortable, warmed by the exercise and several layers of clothing. The brightness of the morning has prompted many of the forest’s birds to sing and, in addition to the Coal Tits and Chaffinches, there is the explosive trill of a Wren and the rolling high-pitched song of a Goldcrest. This is an encouraging sign because these small birds may well have struggled with the severity of the winter we have just experienced.

I am soon out of the mature blocks of pine and onto the clear-fell, where two Roe Deer are stirred to move off by my arrival. Roe are curious creatures and the two of them stop to watch me once they feel they have put sufficient distance between us. It is then that I catch a snatch of Woodlark song, a somewhat melancholy series of notes that picks up pace part way through. Glancing up I spot the bird, in flight and over an area where they almost certainly nested last year. Woodlark are partial migrants and many of the birds from the Brecks will winter further south and west of here, returning in March to occupy suitable breeding territories. Colour-ringed birds from East Anglia have been found wintering in the Netherlands and across the south-west of England. Being a partial migrant means that not all of the individuals will move away come winter, some will stay and others may move in one year but not the next.

The Woodlark is something of a success story, a bird whose numbers have increased six-fold since the mid-1980s. This increase has been linked to an expansion in the amount of clear-fell and young plantation woodland, coupled with the restoration of lowland heath and a run of mild winters. Even with this increase, the bird still only occupies part of its former range. The Brecks and the Suffolk Sandlings are important breeding areas, perhaps holding between a third and a half of the UK breeding population.

Clear-fell in the Brecks provides the birds with suitable nesting habitat, the Woodlark requiring a mixture of bare ground or short vegetation in which to feed, taller vegetation in which to nest and the presence of trees from which the males can sing. The matrix of forest blocks provides this nesting habitat and, with the presence of winter feeding opportunities present locally, the birds have done well. This is only my first Woodlark of the year but it won’t be my last. More will begin to sing and soon they will start nest building.

Woodlarks abound

The sky is dark and brooding, almost autumnal in nature, and the strength of the wind makes me feel that I may have chanced my luck in coming out this morning. The weather forecast predicted that the overnight rain would have pushed through soon after first light and I’m rather hoping that the scatter of raindrops on the car windscreen are the end, not the beginning, of a belt of showers.

The moody sky suits the open landscape of these Surrey heaths; their open vistas are spared the horizon-shortening banks of conifers that spoil so much of my native Breckland, hemming me in and compartmentalising so much of the landscape. Many of the Surrey heathlands have been shaped by the military and have only recently been taken on as nature reserves. They remain open; a mixture of sandy soils sloping down to wetter ground, abundant pools and (in summer) a multitude of dragonflies and damp-loving plants. The cloud and wind combine to deliver a chill and I am glad to be on the move, striding across the boardwalk towards the higher ground ahead. Despite the weather there are a few birds singing, the melancholy fluty whistle of Curlew, the ever-present Wren and a distant snatch of Woodlark. It is the Woodlarks that I have come to see, even though they are a familiar bird at home in Norfolk. Here, on Thursley Common, they are doing well, with a good number of breeding territories spread across the ground.

I can see that the bank of cloud is slipping away to the southeast and the brightening sky brings much-needed warmth, stirring not only my spirits but prompting other birds to start singing. Finding some higher ground I stand in the sunshine and watch one of the Woodlarks perched, as they so often do, in a suitable tree. Singing from a Silver Birch, one of many that seem to have lost their tops, the Woodlark is beautifully lit in the spring sunshine and it fills the telescope’s field of view. Smaller than a Skylark, this species is noticeably short-tailed and has a strongly patterned head. In addition to this, there is the diagnostic ‘pale-dark-pale’ panel on the edge of the closed wing.

I’m soon watching other individuals, some singing and others foraging on the ground amongst the heather. The common was damaged by fire two summers ago and many of the trees remain blackened. Woodlark numbers have increased over recent years, no doubt contributing to the numbers on show this morning. While I see them almost daily in Norfolk at this time of the year, I never see them in these numbers, nor in such striking surroundings. It was worth chancing my luck with the weather.

Larks rise

Norfolk has a number of nature reserves that are, quite rightly, famous for particular species of bird. The Norfolk Wildlife Trust reserve at Weeting Heath is one of these, hosting several pairs of nesting stone curlews each year. These rather unusual waders are not easy to spot, so the hides at Weeting (together with the helpful wardens and volunteers) provide an ideal opportunity to see these rare birds. Another species that can be seen on the reserve at the moment is the woodlark, and a few weeks ago I was fortunate enough to be able to watch a pair of woodlarks, nesting just in front of the east hide. The nest itself was hidden from view, a depression within a patch of longer vegetation, but I was able to watch what I assumed to be the male bird arrive and softly call his mate off the nest. The male bore a unique sequence of tiny colour rings fitted to each leg, enabling his identity to be established and helping local researchers understand the pattern of movements undertaken by these enigmatic little birds. I duly noted the sequence in my notebook and reported it to the British Trust for Ornithology at Thetford, who operate the national ringing scheme on behalf of the British and Irish governments. Just last week I received information back, informing me that this particular individual had been ringed as a chick on 28^th April 2004 at a nest site some 3km north of Weeting. Interestingly, in addition to my record from the 8^th April, another birdwatcher had seen the bird on the 3^rd, also at Weeting. Colour-ringing is a very useful technique since it allows observers to identify individual birds in the field without having to recapture them.

This particular pair of woodlarks would probably go on to rear another two or three broods this summer and they are part of a healthy and rapidly expanding population. The population first began to expand in the late 1980s, facilitated by an expansion in the amount of restored heathland and young plantation woodland. Thetford Forest has been the focus for much of this expansion and the number of breeding territories within the forest had increased from 48 in 1980 to 446 territories by 1997 (when the last national survey was carried out). There has also been a tremendous increase in the number of woodlarks nesting on the surrounding heathland, thanks primarily to the introduction, in 1988, of the Breckland Environmentally Sensitive Area (ESA) Scheme. It now seems likely that Breckland, together with the Suffolk Sandlings, supports just under half of the national population. Mind you, there is still some way to go before the species re-occupies all of its former range.