It’s been a great spring for bluebells – the woods and banks of the farm are carpeted in these delicate but boldly coloured flowers, contrasted beautifully by the lush spring grass. With lambing finally over, I found a few spare minutes to get out with my camera and started following a bumble bee as it gorged itself on pollen.

Celendines are often considered the floral equivalents of swallows in that they signify the beginning of Spring. They have been reported as early as February in southern England and I’ve noticed them in March up here, but this year everything is late – the winter has been cold and long and the grass is only just beginning to green again. The forecast for the next couple of weeks is good though, so I expect everything is going to burst into life very soon. It will certainly be nice to see some colour in the trees and fields and the wildlife and farm animals will welcome some new growth at this critical time of year.

These striking clouds are formed when stable air is forced upwards over high ground and then descends on the other side. This flow often creates a series of waves that decrease in size with distance downwind. Sometimes this can look like the waves are stacked, an appearance gives rise to the French name pile d’assiettes (pile of plates). I took this shot looking east from outside the farmhouse;   the sun was setting behind me and added a few warm tones to the sky.

A ‘charm of Goldfinches’ is indeed a lovely sight, but the collective noun derives from the Old English c’irm which actually refers to the equally beautiful sounds that a small flock make. The Latin name for this bird tells of its strong association with the thistle (carduus), upon which they can be seen in the Autumn pulling out the seeds.

The Treecreeper is often described as mouse-like; it certainly has a very gentle presence and can easily go unnoticed as it is effectively camouflaged against the bark of the tree, until it turns side-on and shows its white underside.  It can only climb upwards, using its slightly curved beak to find insects beneath the bark as it goes, and once it reaches the top it flies down to the base of the next tree and starts again.

The feeding station in the woods is attracting quite a nice mix of species now; Coal Tits joined the throng last week. They are smaller than other Tits, but no less gymnastic or agile. Their habit of constantly hopping from one perch to another, and never in the same order, makes them difficult subjects to photograph. Thankfully, they are reasonably common up here and this, combined with their boldness, slightly balances the odds back in favour of the photographer.

‘Nuthatch’ is the modern version of the Middle English name for this bird, ‘Nuthak’, which describes its method of extracting the kernel from nuts; shells are wedged into the crevice of a tree and hacked open with a few blows of its powerful beak. I’d seen this one a few times at a feeding station I’ve set up in a small clearing of the woods, but it took a few visits before I got a nice shot of it nimbly climbing down the tree towards the peanuts.

Until 1900, Willow Tits were always identified as Marsh Tits – it was only after 2 specimens of ‘Marsh Tit’ at the British Museum were questioned by a couple of German ornithologists that they were recognised as a distinct species. The lookalikes are best distinguished by their call – Marsh Tits make a dinstictive pitchoo sound – but also by a pale band on the secondary wing feathers of the Willow Tit.  They are found in most parts of England and Wales and have been spotted as far north as the Scottish Highlands. Willow Tits live in small burrows in trees, often in damp Alder carr, which is where I spotted this one.

Chaffinches are remarkably good looking and are frequent visitors to our feeding station. Some people find their song monotonous -  they can repeat a single phrase up to 6 times a minute and 3000 times a day. However, in Victorian times the birds were highly collectible (and valuable) and males were often pitted against one and other in singing contests, with the winner repeating the most ‘strophes’ in a set time. In these times, bird trappers were so attuned to their song that they could distinguish varieties in their phrases from one  region to another.

I took this shot at about 8am. I think he’s male and quite young. I’d seen him a couple of nights ago while I was photographing the rooks coming in to roost in the trees above – he was silhouetted against a wonderfully rich yellow sunset. I didn’t get a photo but wandered up to where he had passed and soon found his tracks. The following morning I set my hide up at a tangent to the tracks and waited. Sure enough he came by, but not past my hide. The next day I went up again, slightly re-positioned the hide, and sat down. This time he came right into the viewfinder. He saw me – I think the eye contact makes the photo engaging – and then turned and retreated. I’m fairly sure he wasn’t startled, just taking no risks at seeing an unusual object where it hadn’t been before.