April Journal: When the Cuckoo Returned

3rd April

Last year’s calves are almost yearlings now. They have grown fast and have benefitted from living with their mothers in a familial herd, learning the land and becoming more independent. As the year draws on, there are fewer things they are experiencing for the first time. Zabrina experiments with eating the blossom that hangs thickly from the hedges. It catches in the breeze and flutters all over her; nature’s confetti reminds us of our roots in weddings as we move forwards with our rewilding journey.

4th April

The wetlands are busy with youngsters. Ducklings follow behind their mother, keeping up a constant chorus of high-pitched tweeting, while below, frogspawn congregates in dark crowds.

8th April

As the temperatures climb, the ground has dried out. What was shin-deep mud two months ago is now baked hard. The April showers are late this year, and a stranded toad in the centre of a dry field is grateful to be moved to the drainage channel which, thankfully, still flows with water.

9th April

Bluebells now carpet our woodlands in puddles of indigo. Spring is well underway on the land and today the first Whitethroat is seen on the rewilding land. This summer visitor heralds an upcoming shift in the bird species we will see here.

10th April

Nature is full of mysteries, and this morning I am challenged with a classic ‘whodunnit’. Arriving at the wild swimming lake, I find a large fish lying dead on the bank. Which fisherman has caught this fish (which measures well over a foot long) killed it, and then left it uneaten? My prime suspects are either an otter or a heron.

Herons will stand in wait before spearing fish with their beaks and swallowing them whole. If interrupted, a heron might leave its meal unattended. Otters, on the other hand, are renowned for not finishing their meals and often leave part or all of a fish behind, particularly in ponds with high fish populations. I am leaning towards the otter, due to what look like claw marks on the fish’s side. I immediately set up a trail camera in the hope that the culprit will return to the scene.

14th April

Cracked eggshells litter the field margins, beneath trees and along the sides of the hedges. The nesting birds are becoming sheltered from sight as the first few trees begin to come into leaf. The over-eager horse chestnuts have been green for a few weeks and display their classic candles. These conical flower stems feed the insects and are, to many, the true signal that summer is not far off.

15th April

The April showers have arrived. Thunder rolls into the afternoon with the occasional flash of lightning. There is an ominous feeling in the air when finally the heavens open, and the rain pours and pours down. The land has needed this and is not intimidated by the deafening weather.

16th April

Our bull, Valentino, has been roaming the land with the herd for seven months. Today our vet visited to check on the cows in his herd and confirmed that we will be expecting lots of calves in two months’ time. We are taking extra care to keep them on the right grazing, but mostly this hardy breed does best when left to its own devices to roam the land and graze as they please.

17th April

Today is Bat Appreciation Day, and by sheer coincidence I have started to do some tentative bat monitoring on the rewilding land. In the Southwest we are fortunate to host both the Greater and Lesser Horseshoe Bat, which inhabit very few other places in England. These endangered bats have lost over 90% of their population in the last 100 years due to habitat loss and light pollution. Previous surveys have confirmed their presence here, and I hope to find them on the estate still.

So far, I have identified Noctule bats, lots of Pipistrelles, and Daubenton’s bats. It is a tricky process to discern the differences between their pops and clicks, but with more practice I am sure I will identify more species.

18th April

Arriving early one morning, I heard a familiar sound - one I had not heard since early last summer. As the old countryside rhyme goes, our friend is early. Both a joy and a disturbing indicator of the intensification of the seasons.

His song rang out from every corner of the estate throughout the day, announcing his arrival back on the land.

Later that day, I discovered a Chiffchaff sitting on the floor. At first I wondered if he was injured and approached slowly. When he didn’t move, I reached my hand out and he flew onto a bench, apparently completely well. We kept one another company for ten minutes until he departed, leaving my day just a little sweeter for the interaction.

23rd April

The blazing sun, combined with very little rainfall, has left the land cracked and bone dry. In places it looks more like July than April. This seasonal disorientation is amplified by the water in the scrapes receding to a narrow channel. Grass grows on the recently submerged banks, and the birds are forced into closer proximity. It is an oasis in a quickly drying landscape.

A curlew’s call rings out from across the land, from the banks of the Severn. I suspect their continued presence suggests they are breeding in the area.

26th April

Despite the unseasonable temperatures reducing the size of the wetlands, it is busier than ever. A flock of 35 Whimbrels is seen dropping down, while close by a Little Egret stalks through the grasses and Sedge Warblers add their calls from the cover of the reeds. The cuckoo calls seem to follow you around the estate, sounding at once so familiar and so rare. Lapwings chase off the crows, clearly territorial over their breeding ground.

This place belongs to the birds and the wild things. Their presence signals healing and safety, and we will keep it that way.

30th April

Today our crop of barley is being drilled. We still have a few fields which we keep in an arable crop rotation. Last year we had wheat, and this year we are direct-drilling barley. We prefer direct drilling instead of ploughing first, to reduce the release of carbon and avoid compromising the soil structure, both of which are important to us.

We take our stewardship of the land seriously, and everything we do is intended to leave it better for our presence.

Today I spotted a small self-seeded oak tree. This embodiment of natural regeneration and habitat creation feels symbolic of a bright future for generations to come.

Written by Hazel Alabaster - Estate Ranger