For me and for very many people, listening to birdsong is both enjoyable and uplifting.
Of course, in reality we are not as the Victorians thought being serenaded but nevertheless benefit as a spinoff from what are the bird's territorial and mate seeking statements.
At this time of year, with the exception of robins and the cheerful tinkling chatter of goldfinches birdsong is limited.
My local dunnock has surprisingly begun spasmodically his scratchy delivery much earlier than usual. Perhaps the so far mild autumn has fooled him into thinking that spring is not far off but he may yet change his tune when winter finally arrives.
One species, the rose-ringed parakeet (pictured) certainly does not sing but his year long screeching contact calls do nothing to enhance any visit to Richmond and Bushy park's woodland areas and their constant high-pitched yelping seems to inhibit the enthusiasm of native species to utter any notes.
Until two years ago, my favourite songster the songthrush begun singing in November. Two birds were involved but sadly both vanished after a severe December storm in 2013 and none have taken their place. In fact, I only heard one songthrush elsewhere last year and none this season, such is their worrying decline.
But, there are several excellent CDs of birdsong available so I content myself with playing one on the car stereo to sooth my mind on long journeys.
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