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May birds

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Picture: a great spotted woodpecker juvenile takes a peek out of the nest. Click here for more May bird photos. For more information and sound clips of the birds mentioned here, see the RSPB website

Birdsong in May is still at its most intense, though it is usually slackening off by the end of the month - or some years as early as the second week. Males sing most frequently - and loudest - when they are setting up territories and trying to attract a mate: at this time they have to project their song over a long distance to ward off rivals. Once territories are established and pairs formed, singing is only required to maintain existing territory boundaries, and so doesn't need to be so loud or persistent. Later still when there are young to feed there is less time to sing.

In May many overwintering natives are already reaching this last stage, but others - among them new migrants - are still in the courtship phase. That means that you can still experience layers of birdsong if the weather is fine, both by day and (particularly) in the early evening. This varies considerably from place to place, however. The best concentrations of song tend to be in suburban parks, woodland and wildlife reserves, as well as scrubby areas in the country: on farmland it is really evident how modern agricultural methods reduce avian populations. If you don't already know your birdsong, this is frustrating month to try and identify what birds are singing, however, because foliage now hides them from view.

If you can get up early, this is also a good month to hear the dawn chorus. Starlings apparently start singing first, in the pre-dawn, and then come blackbirds, wrens and robins. Chaffinch and blackcap and others often don't start until it is full light. Once it is light enough to see food, there is then a "breakfast gap" followed by another burst of singing.

One bird that is very prominent all month, both in sound and visually, is the blackbird, whose lovely melifluous song is sung by males perched high on trees and rooftops. They can sing at any time of day and, with the exception of intensely arable areas, it can seem as if they are singing all the time and everywhere for the first half to two thirds of the month. There is a particular increase from around 3-4pm until dusk, and in favoured areas - ancient woods, villages, suburban areas - this creates a lovely layered effect, with song stretching off into the distance. Only towards the end of the month does the song start to become a bit more thinly spaced and more concentrated in the late afternoon and early evening. Very occasionally towards dusk blackbirds resort to tup-tup-tupping competitions instead, or these may be tactics to scare off potential predators from their young.

Keeping blackbirds company is the song thrush, which is heard in the late afternoon and evening throughout the month, and usually once or twice earlier in the day. At dusk the two species sometimes seem to be competing as to who will be the last to shut up (song thrushes usually win).

The cascading song of the chaffinch is also common throughout May, though in recent years they seem to have become a bit localised in the south east - that is common in some areas but rare in others. They lay their eggs during the month so their song is less intense towards its end, but still fairly regularly heard. It is worth checking that what you think is a chaffinch is not a willow warbler, however, as their song sounds quite similar to the casual ear. Willow warblers sing a descending scale but without the flourish at the end that the chaffinch has. They are found in wilder places - scrubby downland, low woodland - rather than in farmland, though they now seem to be quite rare in the south east of England. The lower slopes of Pitstone Hill near Tring are one good place to hear them.

Chaffinches also make a metronomic tseep!... tseep!....tseep!... that can go on for ages. There are two versions of this - a rather harsh, raspy one (clip: known as a "rain call", though as far as I can tell it is not usually associated with particular weather conditions) and a softer toned one (clip). The latter sounds very much like a similarly repetitive call of the chiffchaff (clip): I have observed both birds making the call at this time of year, and it is often not possible to tell which is doing it. Both can engage in duels with other birds where they swop "tseeps" for prolonged periods. The ponderous song of the chiffchaff (which sounds like its name) also continues to be heard most days throughout the month, though it is less frequent than it was in early April, when they were newly arrived from their migration and competing for territory.

Lots of other birds that were vociferous earlier in the spring are now piping down. Blue tits and great tits are occasionally heard in early May, but blue tits have generally stopped singing entirely by the middle of the month, while great tits only make the occasional brief outbursts. Just occasionally you hear great tits singing with gusto or having a see-saw contest with a neighbouring male even late May, however. Both species now have young, timing them to coincide with the peak in caterpillar numbers in the second half of the month. Being in pair bonds, they do not even make the cheerful contact calls they make the rest of the year when feeding in groups.

Robins also time their young to coincide with the caterpillar peak, so their song is also much less common in May, though they can sometimes be heard singing right to the end of the month, particularly at dusk and often in short bursts as if they have no time for more developed songs. The loud trilling outbursts of wrens are heard most days but are no longer as common as they were in early April. Throughout the month you can hear the "laugh" (technically known as a "yaffle") of the green woodpecker, but the drumming of the great spotted woodpecker is usually only heard in the first week or so of the month, if that. The same is true of the song of the mistle thrush, which sounds distant even when it is not, and the various calls of nuthatches. Very occasionally on a wood edge you might hear the shy piping of a bullfinch, but these are now very rare birds.

Dunnocks also quieten down and focus on raising their young in May, though they can occasionally be heard (and seen) singing right to the end of the month. Indeed, there may even be a renewed flurry of song around this time, perhaps because these notoriously promiscuous birds are having a second go at breeding. Their squeaky supermarket trolley song sounds similar to that of the blackcap, but the latter is louder, more confident and starts with mumbling notes: it can be heard throughout the month.

Just to make life confusing, the whitethroat, a summer visitor active throughout the month in shrubby territory and hedgerows between open fields, also has a similar song, albeit much shorter than the blackcap's and more scratchy. It has only just arrived in May and so is very vocal. It has a display flight where it flies up into the air and lands again. There is also the garden warbler, whose song is like a speeded-up, perhaps even demented, version of the blackcap's but with some scratchy notes like the whitethroat. They are not the commonest of birds, remaining hidden in trees and scrub. If you catch sight of one you might mistake it for a chiffchaff, as they are quite nondescript in appearance, with a lighter belly. Despite their name they are not a garden bird.

Dunnock nests are favourite targets for the parasitic cuckoo to lay its eggs. Sadly these birds are in major decline, but you can still hear them occasionally in May (usually, it seems, a long way away), with some of them apparently not arriving from Africa until this time. (On an optimistic note. 2020 seemed to be an excellent year for cuckoos, with the author hearing 18 from April to June, 12 of them in the month of May.) Both the New Forest and the area around Haslemere are good locations for them, as are nature reserves such as Otmoor near Oxford and the Knepp Wildlands south of Horsham. In the highlands of Scotland, where they target meadow pipit nests, they are much more common.

Other summer visitors include swallows and house martins, where the few that turned up in late April are supposed to be joined by a further big influx in May. Worryingly, though, both species have shown a noticeable decline in numbers in recent years, with a catastrophic drop in 2018 due to poor weather on the migration route, and further poor showings in 2019 and 2020. Telling the two apart can be difficult, with both having white bellies and flying pretty fast. Perhaps the easiest way to distinguish them is that swallows quite often fly very low - sometimes only half a metre above the ground - turning sharply and unexpectedly like a jet fighter and even dipping into ponds to drink while on the wing. They also have a long forked tail and a dark throat, if you ever get that good a look at them.

House martins, by contrast, are more sociable, nearly always appearing in chattering groups, and nearly always seen near buildings, where they nest in colonies. They tend to fly at rooftop height, in a sort of "flap flap glide" flight rather than the smooth swoop of the swallow. They have a stubbier tail and a white patch on their rumps (the bottom of their back). The two species also have different calls - the house martin's having a staccato rasping quality and the swallow sounding like a squeaky bath toy being rapidly pressed.

Often lumped together with these two, but from an entirely different family of birds, is the swift, which has distinctive swept-back wings and entirely dark plumage. They generally are seen high in the sky, particularly over ancient towns with convenient church towers to nest in, as well as over Walthamstow Wetlands in north east London, but can sometimes come quite close to the ground in pursuit of food. Their distinctive screaming call is often what alerts you to their presence. They are amazing birds, spending up to four years in the air, and landing only to raise young. Among the activities they can do while on the wing are mating, sleeping (they spiral up into the air and fly downwards in big curves) and collecting nesting material - floating wisps of grass, leaves and feathers, which they cement into a nest by using their saliva. Sadly, like swallows and house martins they have shown sharp declines in numbers in recent years.

Near houses you can hear the twittering of sparrows, once very common and now maybe making a bit of a comeback. Greenfinches are also almost exclusively found near habitation, where the males are easy to see as they sit on high perches making their "squeezh" of a mating call, though once again their numbers have declined quite noticeably in recent years. Goldfinches sing from similar positions. Their song sounds almost identical to the communal chatter they make in winter, though it is usually lone males singing at this time of year (often from a television aerial on top of a house). However, they also occasionally twitter excitedly as they fly past in small groups, a sound which is easy to confuse with that made by swallows.

Around habitation - in villages and more rural suburbs - is also where you hear the cooing of collared doves - "hoo-hooo hoo": look for them on chimney pots - or the "hoo-HOO-HOO-hoo-hoo" of the wood pigeon. The latter can also be heard in the countryside, and both birds sing throughout May, though not with any great intensity. A bit less common and much more inconspicuous is the repeated throaty "woo" of the stock dove, more of a woodland bird.

In fields with hedgerows or on scrubby downland or clifftops, listen out for the quiet but penetrating song of the yellowhammer, which is a rapid series of notes a little bit like a blue tit's mating call, followed by a long drawn out "eee" - but the bird often leaves out the "eee". (One can get quite tense wondering if the wretched thing is going to finish the phrase or not!). As you might expect, yellowhammers have lovely bright yellow plumage on their heads and breasts, and they usually perch prominently on a bush. But they are nonetheless remarkably difficult to spot.

Also on downland and and over arable fields skylarks trill invisibly overhead, and on wilder downs you can sometimes see or hear meadow pipits, with their accelerating trill and parachuting display (that is, they fly up and then glide downwards, singing as they go). In coastal scrub and downland you may just hear stonechats, with their frequent "tchack" calls (and a short song riff which sounds a bit like that of the whitethroat), and red-breasted linnets, who have a rapid twittering song a bit like that of the lark or goldfinch, and who fly low over the ground between perches on bushes. On shingle beaches (eg the area behind the beach at Cuckmere Haven or between Seaford and Newhaven) look out for well-camouflaged ringed plovers, who nest in such places and give their location away with a thin piping call. On the chalk cliffs at the eastern end of Seaford beach in Sussex there is also a large colony of kittiwakes nesting at this time of year - seagull-like bird which normally only breeds on remoter Scottish islands and North Sea coasts.

In reed beds and reed-filled ditches you may hear the scolding, rhythmical song of reed warbler, another favourite target of the cuckoo. The more rambling and scratchy song of the sedge warbler is a lot rarer and usually comes from a bush near marshland. If you are near Romney Marsh, however, what you think may be either of these birds singing might in fact be a marsh frog, an invasive species which unlike our native frogs has a loud croak that can sound somewhat bird-like.

Some other birds that once were common in May and which might just crop up, include the corn bunting, which looks like a large yellowhammer but without any yellow plumage. These birds, with a scratchy call a bit like a whitethroat's, have almost disappeared now from the arable farmland that used to be their home, but I saw one near Seaford and on the cliffs near St Margaret's Bay in May 2019, and also on the St Margaret's cliffs and on farmland near Tring in 2020. Lapwings used to be a farmland bird too, with a very distinctive display flight which involved dropping out of the air while uttering an evocative cry. These days they more or less only breed on wetland reserves such as Otmoor RSPB near Oxford, but you may just see one in the normal countryside. May also used to be the month to hear turtle doves and nightingales in scrubland. Nowadays you probably need to go to Knepp Wildlands to hear them, or (for turtle doves) to Otmoor.

More May pages:

© Peter Conway 2006-2020 • All Rights Reserved

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