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April 23rd

An evening wander along the lane this evening took me as far as the paddocks in the hope of an Ouzel but the closest I could manage were a pair of Blackbirds. The Willow Warbler was still present and seemed to have found his voice at last, although I suspect he'll move along at some point as the habitat isn't quite right for the species. Two male Blackcaps were also engaged in a sing off, an invisible territorial divide somewhere between them. The air was chilly by now and as Os and I approached home, a dark scything shape cut across in front of us which then became a stuttering flutter of ungainly overlong wings as it investigated the eaves of a neighbours house. It was a Swift, the first for me this year and perhaps one of the screaming horde of 17 or so we had here last summer, a feature that will hopefully be replayed in the coming weeks.

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