Too hot to sing?

On the hottest July day on record I'm in Bushy park to listen to skylarks.

The sun blazes down out of a cloudless deep blue sky. In trees around the meadowland margin, jackdaws perch with beaks wide open, the only way they can expel heat; rather like dogs panting to keep cool.

Moving onto the grassland heat haze shimmers. In the light breeze grass stems bend and sway, bedecked with chirping common green grasshoppers, their stridulation sounding like the ticking of free-wheeling bicycles.

All around me, skipper butterflies audibly whirr about in groups at grass top height reminding me of the red arrows performing a display, albeit without the red white and blue smoke, in complete contrast to the floppy seemingly lazy flight of meadow browns patrolling below. Indeed, I call skippers the 'red arrows' of the butterfly world.

Walking slowly along a path bordering the rough sward no skylarks sing. Perhaps the day is too hot even for them to sing? Then I notice what appears to be a piece of brown wood at the apex of a tussock. Moving closer I spot an eye so walking in a semi-circle to get a better view I realize it is indeed a skylark (pictured) watching me but not moving, content in the knowledge that his camouflage is perfect, blending in with the grass.

Suddenly to my right, another lark flies up briefly uttering a single chirrup to which 'my ' bird responds. I manage to take a couple of photos then walk slowly away, but still the bird makes no movement.

No singing today perhaps but a most worthwhile close encounter with such an iconic bird..