Walking along a ride through a local wood with the rain dripping onto my neck from the trees, I was pleasantly surprised to see a kestrel disturbed from a tree. The bird flew along the ride ahead of me and then out of sight as the path wound through the wood. Coming round a bend, I thought I might see it again, and there ahead of me, perched in a tree was a bird of prey. It instantly took to the air giving me just sufficient time to identify it as a female goshawk.
Skylarks are still breaking into short bursts of song, whilst the redwing numbers are growing with each day. So the sound of summer is sometimes intermingled with the sights of winter.
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