The South Downs and St Michael & All Angels
January seems to have become a time for hibernation, and frankly, I’m here for it, but it does mean my stockists and customers are extremely quiet, and the idea of trying to push ahead with anything constructive feels like a waste of energy, so I’m adopting an attitude of “if you can’t beat them, join them” and pottering about doing some of my own artwork, and having a bit of a rest.
I really wanted to walk my dog somewhere different, as much as I like the Cuckoo Trail for its convenience and lack of mud, I want to get out and explore a little more this year. Also, my dog gets bored if he doesn’t get a proper run so I wanted to get him out and give him some decent exercise. I have always found the Downs to be hugely evocative and enjoyable, but the various high points are exposed, and therefore very weather-dependent, and the tops are mostly grazed by livestock. The lower ground is mainly arable, and I fancied walking somewhere a little more sheltered. I headed to Berwick with a view to walking up to the church, St Michael & All Angels, which was decorated by the Bloomsbury group, and is on the Pilgrim Path which is a walk I want to try and complete this year. I parked opposite The Cricketers Arms and walked up the road towards the church, passing a shrub full of House Sparrows which was a delight. I skirted around the graveyard and headed out towards the fields.
It was the perfect day for a walk. Breezy and cool, and fabulous sunlight moments, pinpointing little spots on the hill as the sun broke through the clouds like a torch.
Of course, in my hurry to leave the house with my impatient Labrador, I forgot my binoculars. And my birdwatching logbook. I have found, however, that the Law of Sod is particularly pronounced when it comes to birds and binoculars, and especially when the light is low and contrasty, so that even with bins, birds look like blobs when poorly-lit or, my most frequent experience, the birds is sitting with the sun directly behind it so even if one could make out anything other than a silhouette, the risk of blindness isn’t worth it.
Anyway, all this to say that as I picked up the path towards the crop fields, I saw two dark shapes in a huge ash tree, and I was just thinking “Gosh that’s a big crow” when sure enough, a Raven took a leisurely flight in front of me, cronking quietly to its mate, who stayed in the tree. Next, I heard the eerie call of a Buzzard flying in from the left, and the raptor and the corvid circled above me, no doubt both feeling pleased that neither were being targeted by the usual mobsters.
I made my way along the farm track, Ned enjoying his freedom in the wide open space (code for being tardy about recall, and straying just too far for comfort) and as I passed the hedgerows, flocks of Redwings, Fieldfares, and LBJs (Linnets? Mipits? Buntings?) criss-crossed in front of me. I spotted a couple of dozen Fieldfares drinking and bathing in a large puddle, and for that I would have loved my binoculars, but I enjoyed just watching them, albeit with the dog by my side rolling his eyes and tapping his watch at having to stop his investigations of every square centimetre of ground.
The great thing about starting a walk from a church is that you can wander across paths keeping the spire in sight, meaning the likelihood of getting lost is vastly reduced. We went up a sticky track under the trees – the only muddy section on the whole walk to be fair – before the landscape opened up again into rolling fields.
I saw a bird cruise overhead, the outline looking very much like a bird of prey, and the size and wing position made me immediately think: Peregrine. It then started calling, but not the usual scolding screech I’ve heard numerous times before, it sounded more like a squeaky wheel. I had enough signal to pick up my British Birdsongs website (no I don’t have the Merlin app) and sure enough, the sound I heard is the falcon’s “song” although I think it’s a bit of a stretch to call it that.
Listen for yourself here.
I am always pleased when even after all these years, birds still surprise me. Maybe that’s why nature is so healing: it’s a constant sense of learning and connection.
I made my way back towards the church, with Ned finally dialled down to a steady trot. In a way I am pleased I didn’t bring my binoculars, as I often end up missing things in that moment between seeing with my eyes and then finding the subject again with my bins. In the same way that constantly stopping to take photos means we lose our focus for the few seconds when perhaps we should just relish in the experience. And really, if I know what the bird is, do I need to faff about clarifying it, especially when my motivation is to be outside, give both me and my dog a much-needed leg-stretch, and feel like part of the landscape. I will do my best to remember them next time though!
Here’s my ticklist:
- Raven
- Buzzard
- Peregrine Falcon
- House Sparrow
- Goldfinch
- Blackbird
- Robin
- Fieldfare
- Redwing
- Wood Pigeon
- Racing Pigeon
- Jackdaw
- Carrion Crow
- Linnet/Meadow Pipit
- Dunnock
I wanted to record my experience, so made this sketchbook spread. It’s super-scrappy but I like the energy of it.
