IN PRAISE OF DAWN
Savour the break of each spring day and its glorious birdsong
dawn is what the world does when no one is watching. Only early risers, hot air balloonists and birds in spring know its secrets, the latter singing their hearts out from branches thick with buds as the dawn chorus begins. Sunrise may be a showy spectacle, blazing across the sky with colour and fanfare, but it is the quiet dawn that enchants. The world has not quite woken up and only those with purpose discover its beauty.
Technically, dawn is defined as the beginning of the twilight before sunrise, when the sun is still hiding below the horizon. If the sky is clear, the dawn is blue; with cloud, it can include fiery tints of orange and yellow; if you’re lucky, you may see planets such as Venus and Jupiter, visible at certain times of the year in this not-quite-night and not-quite-day period.
Morning has broken, as Eleanor Farjeon’s much-loved hymn says, like the first day. In the half light, many insects are dormant, so the birds can use the precious time to do other things. And for this magical hour or so, during mornings between late April and June, males sing to reaffirm their territory and attract a mate, filling the air with a wall of rich, soaring sound.
A MULTI-VOICED CHOIR
“Woodland is one of the best habitats across Britain to hear the dawn chorus – although reed beds can be spectacular, too,” says Paul Stancliffe from the British Trust for Ornithology. “The number of birds you hear depends on the type of woodland, its size and where you are in the country, but in a deciduous woodland in southern Britain it can be up to 30 species singing.”
The blackbird is the first to sound, according to the hymn – although actually he comes a bit later on in the ensemble. Depending on habitat, the first voices – at dawn (about 3.30am in spring) – are skylarks, song thrushes and robins. But the blackbird isn’t far behind, followed by tits, wrens, finches and warblers shouting into still, cool air that helps their songs carry up to 20 times further than later in the day. Other birds also make their presence known: great spotted woodpeckers drum on wood and even the carrion crow will caw its tuneless addition. The
order of songbirds, though, is largely down to species’ differences; thrushes’ large eyes let in more light so they can start the day a little earlier; in contrast, small-eyed warblers stay sleepier until later. The first hour is always the time to hear the chorus at its best, although songs can go on as late as 6am.
Female birds are listening, too, trying to figure out which male has the best genes – they will choose a mate based on the quality of his song. Once the males have found a female, they tend to sing less. So pity the lone singer later in the season, as he’s likely to be a bachelor who’s failed to find a mate.
“Taking part in a dawn chorus is probably one of the most beautiful things you can experience. It’s worth getting out into the stillness of the morning for this exquisite cacophony, especially when you try to pick out the individual songs and work out which bird is singing,” says Ness Amaral-rogers of the RSPB.
Miss the dawn and there’s another, significantly quieter, chorus at dusk (tree sparrows and blue tits prefer to sing at this time of day), but the real symphony happens early – and if you need help getting out of bed, then take advantage of dawn chorus walks and events run by the RSPB and wildlife trusts around the UK.
OTHER HIDDEN WONDERS
Nature’s choristers are not the only ones to contribute to the wonder of dawn. It is also the best time to see rutting deer and the activity of crepuscular animals such as rabbits and bats, as well as nyctinastic flowers including daisies, which open with the first rays of light.
It’s also a place from which to escape the endless connection as phone calls, texts or emails are less likely to attract your attention. Sitting quietly, you’ll also discover that the most familiar of landscapes can be seen anew – the changing light sculpting scenes with unusual shadows, soft mist and dew gradually illuminated by low-level sunlight. It’s a phenomenon the poet Diane Ackerman recognises in her essay World at Dawn, when she describes “…a land of petrified forests and sleeping beauties, when dry leaves, hardened by frozen dew, become ghost hands, and deer slouch through the woods, waiting for their food to defrost”. She also notes that it is its sudden disappearance that makes the dawn world so miraculous: “Then, as if a lamp were switched on in a dark room, nature grows crisply visible…” Another author, JRR Tolkien, remarked upon dawn’s spiritual pull as a time steeped in the potential of the day, describing it as “ever the hope of men”.
DAWN TREADERS
A group of people well acquainted with the wonders of the dawn are those who work on the land. Out on Romney Marsh in Kent, sheep farmer Camilla Hayselden-ashby does her first checks of the day, up before the sun to discover the new life that has arrived overnight. “In spring, lambing is the busiest time of year but at dawn there is a stillness, the ewes and lambs still bedded down, as the fog retreats. You can take a moment to breathe in the air, so cold it seems to burn your nostrils.”
Like the birds shouting their intentions around her in glorious voice, she waits for the sleeping world to catch her up. “Seeing the sky begin to lighten and fill with colour is welcome – you know the day will begin to warm… and work can start in earnest again.”