Air in the

Snowdrops are showing white tips, hazels are developing catkins and birds sense something promising is in the offing: spring

The first signs of spring are starting to emerge. Picture: Getty Images. D own by the river, the first signs of spring are bursting forth; the heralds of new life and bountiful growth. Despite winter still maintaining a tight grip, this is a time of anticipation, with birds and other creatures sensing change in the air.

On parts of the riverbank, the green nodules of white butterbur pattern the ground like little verdant globes. Soon, they will erupt into white flower-spikes. An introduced species, white butterbur is one our earliest-emerging flowers and once their blooms are spent, they will develop large plate-sized leaves, which tend to shade-out our smaller, native flora.

Snowdrops, too, are showing white tips to their spears, which over the next short while will materialise into these wonderful nodding white bells so familiar to us all. Here, on the banks of the River Devon, these snowdrops can spread downstream and into the surrounding meadows during times of spate, the little bulbs being carried far and wide in the floodwaters.

Hazels are also beginning to develop their delightful little hanging catkins, known as lamb’s tails. These male flowers are small and indistinct at this time of year, but soon they will transform into blousy lime-coloured catkins that dangle from the branches and sway in the breeze.

Look closely and it should be possible to discern the tiny red female flowers on hazel twigs. In some parts of the country it was once believed that a prolific show of hazel catkins would result in the birth of lots of babies.

Many birds are now getting frisky, especially the local rooks who each afternoon have been gathering around their traditional nesting colonies to socialise and court each other. The male birds go down into little bowing actions before their faithful mates, calling excitedly and fanning their tails.

Nest building is gathering pace with last year’s nests being renovated and repaired with new twigs and sticks. Rooks are crafty creatures, though, and if one bird isn’t looking, another is likely to swipe a stick from its neighbour’s nest. Rooks are one of our earliest nesters and they will have laid their first eggs by early March.

Tawny owls, too, are thinking about breeding, and in the wood behind my house, there has been much hooting from a male bird during the evening. Like the rook, tawnies normally pair for life, so this owl’s partner will be somewhere near, the constant calling helping to reinforce their relationship.

I’ve also been listening out for song thrushes. I haven’t heard one yet, but last year song thrushes were singing on my local patch by the end of January, the earliest I can remember. At this time of year, the song is short and hesitant, but over the coming weeks it will blossom into rich tones, with each phrase repeated twice, before going on to the next couplet.

Nature’s melodies are now beginning to fill the cold winter air; it is an overture to spring, full of promise and hope. While white butterbur is an alien species, the larger, native butterbur is also found in parts of Scotland. The name derives from the tradition of using their large flat leaves for wrapping butter.