Mistle thrush sings amongst wind hushing conifers
The air above Broxbourne Wood is moving steadily, pushed along by an early April wind. It's catching the tops of the tall brush-like conifers abundant in this part of the wood. They're all about, and pointing up into the sky, and all hushing, in slow, sympathetic waves. It's a therapeutic sound that helps to open the lungs, and ease the mind. Down here on the forest floor it's quiet. Just the fleeting voices of children playing somewhere else deeper in the wood. A bumble bee comes, then goes, and there's a mistle thrush. A mistle thrush whose jaunty song echoes throughout the vast empty space beneath the trees. It's like a blackbird, but sings in shorter form, and has a lighter, more effervescent voice. For us the mistle thrush spells the joyful arrival of spring. We love to hear it this time of year. It's a bright afternoon. The clouds have thinned almost to nothing and the sun is about to come out. Time for a flask of tea. We attach the microphones to the trunk of a tree and leave them alone to capture the beautiful ambience of this rural Hertfordshire wood.