Woodbury Common and the East Devon Pebblebed Heaths

Woodbury Common

Woodbury Common opposite the end of Castle Lane:
a clear view east towards Peak Hill and High Peak.
Portland Bill was also visible on the horizon that day in early October.

Woodbury Common is part of a low ridge of land known as the East Devon Pebblebed Heaths, which stretches inland from the coast at Budleigh Salterton, and is 12km long and up to 3km wide. Being on our doorstep, it is perhaps easy to take this landscape for granted, but in fact this ridge is absolutely unique in the United Kingdom: consisting existing entirely of pebbles, there is nothing to compare with it.

In addition, the habitat is a lowland heathland which is now one of Britain's rarest and most threatened.  Nationally this type of landscape has faced astonishing decline in the last couple of centuries, due to changing land use practices and loss to commercial agriculture or building development.  It is estimated that since 1800 an incredible 80% of Britain's lowland heathland has been lost.  However, England, in particular, retains the major proportion of heathland in Europe.  It is home to a diverse range of unique flora and fauna, and is now a priority for conservation under the UK Biodiversity Action Plan.  

The East Devon Pebblebed Heaths are one of the most important conservation sites in Europe, and are designated a Site of Special Scientific Interest, a Special Area of Conservation, and a Special Protection Area.  They are managed by the Pebblebed Heaths Conservation Trust, a charity set up by Clinton Devon Estates in 2006. 

How lucky we are to live close to such a particular, extraordinary and valued landscape ...

More information on heathland can be found on the website of the Open Air Laboratories (OPAL) Network, a UK-wide citizen science initiative whose partners include Plymouth University. The book East Devon Pebblebed Heaths, by Andrew Cooper, is a good resource.  Heathland, by James Parry (part of the National Trust Living Landscapes series) is also excellent (out of print but good secondhand copies can be found online).

Origins, history and management 

Heathlands are essentially the result of human activity: what began as woodland cleared for farming is always trying to revert to woodland.  Without continued intervention, heathland would become forest, and the particular vegetation and wildlife that thrive in that habitat would be lost.  However, this is often poorly understood - and locally, as elsewhere, management practices such as the use of cattle to graze areas of the Pebblebed Heaths have caused a lot of debate. 

A very informative and impassioned letter on this topic appeared in the October 2014 issue of Woodbury News, written by Nicky Hewitt.  Although she works for the RSPB on the Commons as a part-time administrator and writes the regular report on the Aylesbeare Common Reserve, this piece is based on her own knowledge and opinions.  We like it so much that Nicky has kindly allowed us to re-publish it here, too:

View south towards Budleigh Salterton

East Devon Pebblebed Heaths

I want to write a "special", alongside my regular newsletter, as judging by some recent comments, I think a few facts need to be clarified about the origins and continuance of the East Devon Pebblebed heaths.  They are perhaps not as old or as permanent as some people seem to believe.  Anyway, my background is in geology and I love any chance to talk about the deep, deep past.

The underlying rocks set the scene for heathland: the Budleigh Salterton Pebblebeds consist of pebbles, set in a lot of sand, as revealed at Blackhill Quarry.  The sands provide an acid soil and the pebbles give the resistance to erosion that has formed the wind and rain-swept ridge as it stands today.

But 240 million years ago, when the Pebblebeds were being created, this was a very different place: in the dry centre of a continent experiencing desert conditions, broken occasionally by storm-runoff floods from the nearby mountains, tearing fragments of rock from the mountains, then bashing and rolling them down into rounded pebbles and spreading them across a harsh, dry plain.  Between storms, the wind dried out the river channels, rolled and eroded the pebbles a bit more and drifted the sand. Imagine the conditions around the edges of the mountains in the Sahara today and you will get the picture – hot, dry and windy, the sandy surface constantly moving, with very little vegetation and almost no animals.

But over the following 240 million years this little patch of the world underwent dramatic changes: moving from the middle of a continent to the edge, from dry desert to deep under the ocean and back to land, tilted and squashed by continents breaking up and colliding to form new mountains far away in southern Europe. And as the land rose up it had layer after layer stripped away by the weather over many millions of years, until all the rocks were exposed as we see them now, striped across the sea-cliffs like a huge geology textbook.  That is the story of the Jurassic Coast and well worth exploring elsewhere.  But my point is that the heaths were not here 240 million years ago.  Indeed, they were not here until humans took a hand.

Very little of the landscape of Britain is unchanged by human activity: we’ve been here permanently since soon after the last ice sheets retreated about 11,500 years ago.  But initially we would have been hunter-gatherers, living off the heavily wooded landscape.  The farming lifestyle arrived in the Neolithic, probably starting with pastoralism before moving onto settled arable farming around 4-5,000 years ago.  Fire would have been the first tool used to clear trees, and thin sandy soils would have been much easier to work with hand tools than heavy silts and clays. But the meagre nutrients would also be quickly exhausted and the high land abandoned to grazing animals, as agricultural tools and techniques improved and allowed the farmers to move onto richer, deeper soils in the valleys.  

But that constant grazing, by cattle, sheep, goats and even geese would have kept the trees and scrub at bay, allowing the heathland fauna and flora to develop and spread.  By the Bronze Age great swathes of the country had been cleared of trees and settled by farming communities.  Almost no traces of Bronze Age peoples’ day-to-day lives exist on the ridge tops, but their ritual sites and burial mounds are everywhere, looking down over the sheltered valleys where we live today, probably in much the same places as our ancient ancestors lived.

Then agricultural life continued pretty much the same up until the end of the 19th century when mechanisation really started to take off.  We are about to lose the generation who can still remember when commoners rights were regularly exercised, which was the last connection to a lost form of land-use.   And probably a good thing too, because the heaths were born out of poverty and need. Down the centuries the heaths have always been pretty marginal agriculturally, and only exploited when better options failed.  At a recent local history conference, a retired farmer from Woodbury described the last time he exercised commoners rights: to cut bracken for animal bedding when the hay crop failed – a desperate stop-gap as the bracken would not compost down after use.

The Furze Cutter: an engraving of 1799,
from a painting by Joseph Barney

But go back two or three centuries and the heaths were the only free resource for the common people.  There they could pasture animals, harvest gorse and peat for firing, cut heather for thatch, dig pebbles and sand for building – in fact provide themselves with the basic needs of life.  Controlled burning was used to rejuvenate the vegetation and provide a short-lived pulse of nutrients to encourage the grass.  The few resources were generally heavily exploited, and when agriculture hit a depression and work was harder to come by, over-exploited.  This had been going on for hundreds, if not thousands of years, but was worsened by the enclosure of more and more land into private ownership, driving the villagers to try to extract more from their last few acres of available land.

It is this continuous over-use that has impoverished the thin pebbly soils and allowed the specially adapted flora and fauna to flourish, without any competition from more vigorous species, giving us the unique habitat we see today.

Since the turn of the 20^th century people’s lives have simply improved, so that they no longer needed the meagre resources that the heaths supplied.  And that can only be a good thing.  But for the heathland habitat it is a disaster.  Trees very quickly start to invade, bracken spreads un-controlled and grass starts to build up fertile and nutrient-enriched soil, quickly shading and out-competing the dwarf shrubs.  Without continuous management the heaths would soon cease to exist.  Powerful modern ploughs can even cope with the pebbly soils and, with constant chemical inputs, turn heathland into ordinary pasture and arable land.

Today pasturing animals solely fed on the sparse grasses and soft herbs of the heath can only be done at very low stocking rates, to avoid what we would now consider cruelty.  Bracken can no longer be used for anything much as we now know about its carcinogenic properties.   We still sell firewood derived from the scrub and small trees and gorse taken from the heath, but this would hardly cover our management costs.  The heaths cost time and effort to maintain: mowing, grazing and burning to mimic the old usages, but we also have new cares and considerations, such as no new areas for digging or soil removal in case we damage the archaeology.

So all those people out there who think the heaths are some kind of perpetual, natural system that was there before anyone managed them and will continue if we do nothing – you couldn’t be more wrong.  We constantly get told that the heaths shouldn’t be grazed as it hasn’t happened within living memory.  But living memory is only for the last two or three generations, not the hundreds of generations that have created these unique landscapes.  And we now have to use fences to contain the stock as we cannot exploit the village children to herd and control the animals as our ancestors would (though I’m sure they would much prefer it to being in school on a nice sunny day).

The past is another country, and sometimes we struggle to understand how our ancestors lived, but this bit of the past can remain to remind us.  So please help us to maintain these habitats into the future, so our children and grandchildren can experience the special birds, reptiles, insects, flowers and everything else that needs these special places to survive.  Don’t let a few more vulnerable species die out of this world through our inaction.

Nicky Hewitt

Hedge-banks, berries, and birds

Hedgebanks and the Year of the Devon Hedge

In contrast to hedgerows in other parts of Britain, the Devon hedge consists of an earth bank, faced with stone or turf, which usually has bushy shrubs growing along the top.  For the true Devonian, such structures are known as hedges even when there are no shrubs.  They are characteristically very old, and rich in wildlife, as well as being visually attractive.

The construction of hedge-banks was highly skilled, locally using 'pobbles' as facing, with an infilling of soil.  

Erosion of a hedgebank in Stony Lane reveals the characteristic
construction, with the largest 'pobbles' at the bottom.

Devon has more hedges remaining than any other county in the UK - reflecting not just its large size, but also its pastoral landscape and favourable management and agricultural systems adopted by local farmers.  Devon County Council estimates that there are 33,000 miles of hedges still in the county, which - incredibly - includes about 20% of all the species-rich hedges left in the UK.  In many areas, Devon hedgebanks are a main refuge for a wide range of plants and are essential wildlife corridors for animals, so their successful conservation is critical for wildlife.  The Western Morning News recently ran a very interesting story, for example, pointing out the significance of Devon hedges and copses as highways and larders for bats.

A great deal of really excellent information on Devon hedges is available here and here on the Devon County Council website, including a very good overview and history.

2014 has been declared in the County as the Year of the Devon Hedge, and there is a programme of events and trainings continuing right through till the end of the year - see here for information.

The banks and verges of lanes are increasingly essential for the survival of wild flowers excluded from fields by modern farming practices.  Countryside historian Oliver Rackham describes these verges as:

"... old grassland of a peculiar and often rather unstable kind, traditionally grazed and fertilised by the dung of passing beasts and by washings from the road surface.  They are not usually among the richest kinds of grassland, but they are important especially in those regions where old grassland of any kind is now rare.  In much of England, many ... verges are now the chief home of general grassland plants...  Few species are confined to verges, but many are commoner there than in other habitats."

The damp shady environment of hedges and banks also create their "own microclimate for plants, especially ferns, and eco-linked insects and small mammals.

Local verge-cutting routines in Devon are increasingly contributing to the conservation of wild plant species, but nationally there is concern about management of roadsides.  The wild flower charity Plantlife is running a campaign to encourage local councils to manage roadsides better for nature conservation. For more details, see here.

Many hedges are legally protected from damage or destruction (see government environmental guidance here).  However, with changing styles and sizes of wheeled traffic, together with altered weather patterns, banks and verges are at increasing risk of erosion unless they are maintained.  Exposure of the underlying construction of banks leads to degradation of the soil, and to stones and soil being washed out, further compromising the integrity of the bank.

Erosion of a bank in Stony Lane causing degradation 
of the structure.

Further examples of erosion in Stony Lane (above) 
and Dog Lane (below)

For those of us habituated to our lanes being so scoured, it is perhaps difficult to really understand the changes that have come in recent years.  For a step back in time, it is worth visiting the little-used lane that runs between White Cross Road at Higher Greendale, and Sanctuary Lane.  This passes Winkleigh Farm, which is of very ancient origin.  Here the carriageway is narrow, but the verges are wide with a rich diversity of plant-life.  It is hard to imagine that, within one lifetime, all the lanes around the village were like this.

Lane and ford near Winkleigh Farm - a step back in time.

Hedgerow harvest

On a brighter note, this year has been excellent for many characteristic hedgerow berrying plants.  Excellent guides to autumn berries, both edible and definitely not, are available here from the Wild Food School in Cornwall, and from the British Trust for Ornithology.

Blackberries

Rose-hips

Sloes (fruit of the black-thorn)

Immature ivy berries

Wild privet

Black bryony: the berries of this vine-like plant are superficially 
similar to rose hips, but are highly poisonous.  They are seen 
here together - the rose hips are the three at the bottom right.

At ground level, the berries of Lords-and-Ladies (or Cuckoo pint) 
are also highly toxic to humans.

These white berries in an otherwise native hedge in Stony Lane 
are the garden plant Snowberry.

Birds

Robins are very voluble at the moment - did you know that they are the only birds to sing in the autumn?  In fact, they sing throughout almost the whole year.  The renowned ornithologist, David Lack, tells us that the robin has a spring song that starts near the end of December and continues to about the middle of June.  Its autumn song - which is poorer and less innovative in its range of notes and phrases - is first heard in late July from some of the young birds, with adults starting about a fortnight later. It continues in this feeble form until the spring song starts again. Thus the robin sings throughout the year, except for a gap in the summer, though even this is often closed by a late adult or early juvenile.  The main purpose of its song is to define territory and warn off rivals, even at this time of year, long before the breeding season.  Robins are very territorial, and known to fight to the death over boundary disputes.

[Information from David Lack's book, Life of the Robin]

Another bird of note at the moment is the willow-warbler, still singing despite normally being only a summer visitor.  In fact both this and the black-cap warbler are known sometimes to over-winter in this area, due to the warmer climate.

In recent weeks, swallows have been gathering on telephone wires for migration, but there are still some about, possibly juveniles using the warm weather to build up and store insect food as fat for fuel for their long journey. 

On warm days, blackbirds can often be heard 'rehearsing' their spring songs, in which they adopt an almost inaudible mumble of the real thing.  But the beautiful tones cannot be disguised, despite their attempts to hide it!

Sunken lanes : White Cross Road, Stony Lane, and Dog Lane

Sunken section of White Cross Road at Copse Hill,
 looking north towards Greendale Business Park.

With many hedges now cut back and road verges trimmed, this is a good time for noticing the characteristic features of our lanes.   Their courses and alignments become clearer, with their seemingly erratic, winding nature and inexplicable right-angle bends.  

Right-angled bend in Stony Lane

Lanes are an integral part of the landscape that have evolved through immense social and agricultural changes over many centuries.  It is easy to overlook the fact that they are often among the oldest historical man-made features of a locality.

The acclaimed landscape historian and Devonian, WG Hoskins, suggested that the present network of lanes largely emerged between about 1150 and 1350, during the Medieval colonisation of Devon and the reclamation of waste- and heath-land.  Across Devon at that period, lanes linked thousands of new farms to each other and to the main highways, and gave access to cultivated areas.  They ran between small irregular fields, great hedge-banks, and isolated farmsteads.  This picture certainly fits our own local history, and still determines the pattern of our landscape today.

Oliver Rackham, another important countryside historian, relates how users of these lanes were often obliged, over long periods, to avoid obstacles such as fallen trees, or holes in and along the highway, so that these 'diversions' then became the permanent, winding ways.  

[Information sourced from W G Hoskins, Devon, and The Making of the English Countryside.  See also Francis Pryor, The Making of the British Countryside]

Sunken lanes : "Landmarks that speak of habit, 

rather than suddenness."*

Sunken lanes, or holloways, are roads or tracks which are significantly lower than the land on either side.  Generally they result from centuries of erosion of unpaved roads on soft underlying soil and rock.  Their development depends partly on topography - they form most easily on slopes - and partly on geology.  Sunken lanes are usually of very great age - well-developed holloways take at least 3oo  years to form, according to Oliver Rackham.  Over time, the traffic of humans, animals and vehicles loosens the surface of the track and prevents vegetation from holding it, and rainwater carries away the debris. 

The particularly Devonian feature of hedge-banks also add to the sense of depth of sunken lanes.  Such banks often date from the same Medieval period of colonisation, but some may be even earlier, alongside ancient trackways.  They will be discussed more fully in the next blog post.

Good examples of such stretches of road are Stony Lane and Dog Lane, the part of White Cross Road known as Copse Hill, and Deepway on the road to Woodbury.

The field level behind the hedge along White Cross Road
at Copse Hill (indicated above) is almost at head-height,
with the hedge itself adding to the overall depth of the lane.
This hedge is also very thick (see below at a field entrance), 
which suggests great age.

Stony Lane is clearly below the level of adjoining fields at the
White Cross Road junction, and also has hedge-banks.

A length of fence above head-height indicates the depth of the lane.

In places the bank is topped with gorse.  This is an indicator of 

great age, as it was planted for animal feed centuries ago.

The entrance to Dog Lane from White Cross Road is also well
below the level of the adjoining fields, as shown by the height
of the maize crop above the hedge-bank.

In his book The Wild Places, contemporary nature writer Robert Macfarlane writes lyrically about such holloways:

"I find holloways humbling, for they are landmarks that speak of habit rather than suddenness.  Trodden by innumerable feet, cut by innumerable wheels, they are the records of journeys to market, to worship, to sea.  Like creases in the hand, or the wear on the stone sill of a doorstep or stair, they are the consequence of tradition, of repeated action.  Like old trees - the details of whose spiralling and kinked branches indicate the wind history of a region, and whose growth rings record each year's richness or poverty of sun - they archive the past customs of a place.  Their age chastens without crushing."

[*Accessed at http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/3667487/A-lost-wilderness.html]

Such 'landmarks of habit', are noticeable everywhere. Field entrances are often very good examples....

A field entrance on Dog Lane at the junction with Walkidons Way,

showing the difference in level between the lane and adjoining farmland.

...  as are animal tracks, too!

Butterflies

The Big Butterfly Count - till 10 August

Butterfly numbers in the UK generally have declined over the last 40-50 years through changing land-management practices, and their numbers are an indication of the health of our countryside. The worst year on record was 2012, but their numbers rallied last summer due to good weather, and it is hoped that they will improve again this year.  

Between now and 10 August, the charity Butterfly Conservation is organising a Big Butterfly Count for members of the public to count the numbers of 21 common species they spot over a 15-minute period.  For information see here.

Butterfly-spotting on Aylesbeare Common nature reserve

You might also be interested in this Devon Wildlife Trust event on Aylesbeare Common on Sunday morning 3 August, looking not just at butterflies, but also at dragonflies and birds.

Help wanted

On our recent walk we saw Meadow Browns, Peacock, and Red Admiral butterflies, but do not have enough experience to identify any others.  If you are knowledgeable about butterflies and would like to contribute to this blog, especially now at the height of their season, please do get in touch.  

July 2014 Field path from Toby Lane towards Woodbury

This month we look at the public footpath towards Woodbury that begins on Toby Lane, opposite Toby Cottage.  Throughout this walk there are stunning long views to the Haldon Hills in the west (on the opposite side of the Exe estuary), across Exeter, and to the Raddon Hills in the north-west.  The way crosses six fields - presently under cultivation with meadow grass, maize and wheat - before reaching White Cross Road opposite the Parsonage in Woodbury.  It also passes through and alongside a series of hedges, ditches and field margins that are relatively rich in a variety of wildlife habitats, and form important wildlife corridors.  The way is full of bird- and insect-life - from swallows (they love the telephone wires!) and gold-finches, to bees, crickets, hover-flies and butterflies.  

Field path entrance opposite Toby Cottage (above),
opening onto views of Haldon Hills in the distance (below)

Relatively rich habitat of trees, hedge, ditch and field margin.

In general, footpaths have been created by generations of ordinary people going about their business, and still for us today they provide a vital link to the land, albeit more usually for leisure.  Historically, footpaths connected farms, churches, schools and settlements in times before carriages and vehicles: farm labourers may have walked many miles to work each day, and children may have walked long distances to school.  

Such public rights of way became legalised by the National Parks and Access to the Countryside Act of 1949.  They were based on parish surveys by Parish Councils, and several rounds of public and landowner consultation produced a final Definitive Map. This record is kept under review by the County Council, and can be modified where evidence suggests that new or modified routes would fulfil a current need.

This particular footpath appears on a map of the late nineteenth century but is possibly much older, connecting the handful of farms that used to exist here, in the area between Toby Lane and Canonwalls Farm, with the church and businesses in Woodbury, perhaps including the tithe barn which used to exist at the site of the Parsonage.  Perhaps it was used by people on foot to avoid Deepway and White Cross Road, which would have been churned up by wheeled traffic and livestock.

At this time of year, the vibrancy earlier in the season gives way to the characteristic dark greens and auburn hues of high summer. Fewer new wild flowers appear in July, and mostly they are in open areas and in woodland margins.  This year, however, many plants have flowered and begun to seed up to a month early.  The verges of Toby Lane have a distinctly late summer feel already.

The wide verges of Toby Lane are coloured by an abundance of seed-heads.

At the entrance to the field path and in one of the ditches several fields away, one unusual plant is found flowering in profusion. Its appears to be a member of the water-cress family, possibly Narrow-fruited Water-cress or a hybrid.

Narrow-fruited Water-cress [?]

Here there is also a magnificent stand of Great Willowherb, which is found in abundance in damp places, such as the ditches beside lanes and fields, and can be seen throughout this walk.  It spreads rapidly by underground stems, so that it often forms large clumps, to the exclusion of other plants.  It is distinguished from its cousin Rosebay Willowherb by larger, more spaced out individual flowers.

Great Willowherb

At the time of writing, the first field is un-cut, and provides a relatively rich experience of grasses and plants in both flower and seed, and the sight and sounds of insects.  The mixed flora includes Buttercups (Creeping- and Field-), White Clover, and Creeping Thistle.

Creeping Buttercup

White Clover is one of the wild flowers most rich in pollen and nectar, and is hugely important for insects, as well as for fixing nitrogen in the soil.  It occurs widely in grassy areas.

White Clover

Creeping Thistle is considered a pest by farmers and gardeners because of its rapid spread - by seed and by fragments of rhyzome.  However, a stand of the plant in flower is an invaluable source of nectar for many insects.  If you are brave enough to put your nose to it, you will find that the flower smells of honey.

Creeping Thistle

Hedgerow flowers along the path include (as well as Great Willowherb) Common or Hedge Bedstraw, Tufted Vetch, Bramble, Meadowsweet, and Hedge Bindweed.

Common, or Hedge, Bedstraw

Tufted Vetch and Bramble

Bramble

Meadowsweet

Hedge Bindweed

One plant that is unfamiliar to us and was not recorded in the Woodbury Wildflower Survey (completed in 2011), is Many-seeded Goosefoot.  It apparently occurs locally throughout England south of a line between the Humber and the Severn.  At 1m tall it is a striking plant that grows on light, nutrient-rich waste ground and disturbed cultivated land.  We found many specimens growing along the edge of the fifth field where there is a wide field margin.

Many-seeded Goosefoot

Throughout this walk, it is hard to remain unaware of the distinction between the cultivated land and the rest.  Modern agricultural practice is extremely monocultural, and often leaves wide areas of bare soil which can quickly become degraded by erosion and flooding.  By contrast, the hedges, ditches and margins are more species-rich, although much has been lost in the last century due to modern farming methods and land management.  

Monoculture of rye grass beyond the field margin

Bare soil between maize plants.

At the corner of the sixth (and last) field, where the land dips down towards Woodbury, there is an area of degraded land which has been subject to flooding in the last few years, and no crop is growing in this hard, cracked soil.

However, it is a great lesson to realise how nature is reclaiming this ground and restructuring the soil through the emergence of a number of plants that thrive on waste ground, together with an abundance of insect life.  Growing here we found Field Bindweed, Scentless Mayweed, Common Speedwell, Sun spurge, Greater Plantain, and Scarlet Pimpernel.

Field Bindweed

Scentless Mayweed

Common Field-speedwell

Sun spurge

Young Greater Plantain

Scarlet Pimpernel

Seeds and fruits

Amongst the many seeds and fruits developing now are Sorrel (giving the fieldscape an auburn tinge), the many Umbellifers, Field and Dog Roses, Red Campion, Hedge Woundwort, and Lords and Ladies.

Sorrel

Cow Parsley and other umbellifers

Rose

Red Campion

Hedge Woundwort

Oil-seed Rape

The distinctive red berry-like fruit of Lords and Ladies is highly toxic for humans, but loved by birds.

Lords and Ladies

Birds

Bird moult

At this time of year it can feel as if the birds have simply disappeared: there is little birdsong, the garden and countryside can seem eerily quiet, and there may be few birds to see, and - when they do appear - they can look quite strange.  The breeding season is over, the young no longer need to be fed by the parents, and territory no longer needs to be fiercely maintained, so the birds can put their energy into the process of moulting.  Adult birds are shedding their worn out feathers and growing new, strong, warm feathers to see them through the winter.  Young birds are losing their first feathers and moulting into their adult coats.

Moulting is a drain on birds' resources.  When feathers are shed there may be heat loss, affecting insulation, and when flight feathers are lost, more energy may be needed for flight.  This is why many birds become inconspicuous for a time as they may be more vulnerable to predation.  Generally moult will not overlap with other processes which drain energy reserves, such as breeding or moulting.

[Information for this section is taken from an RSPB article about bird moult]

Dawn chorus

At midsummer, on June 21, Sally Elliott noted the following birds singing during the dawn chorus:

At 03.55am the Song Thrush began, followed (in order) by Swallows, Robin, Blackbird, Wren, Blackcap Warbler, Chaffinch, and finally Wood Pigeon at 04.38am.

However, such is the reduction in birdsong at this time of year that just over two weeks later, on July 9, only the Song Thrush could be heard, beginning at 4.30am.

Familiar and well-loved though the Song Thrush is as a garden bird, its numbers are declining seriously, especially on farmland - and it is in fact now on the 'Red List', meaning it has the highest conservation priority.  The Song Thrush's habit of repeating song phrases distinguishes it from other singing blackbirds.  You can listen to it and read more here.  It is similar in appearance to the Mistle Thrush, but is smaller and browner, with smaller spotting.

Song thrush (above) compared with Mistle thrush (below)