"Svmer is icumen in"
11th May 2014
"Summer is a-coming in
Loudly sing cuckoo
Groweth seed and bloweth mead
and springs the wood anew
Sing cuckoo!
Ewe bleateth aft-er lamb,
Calf loweth after cow,
Bullock starteth, buck farteth,
Merry sing cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!
Well singest thou cuckoo,
Nor cease thou never now!
Sing cuckoo now, Sing cuckoo!"
Over the last few weeks I have heard, but unfortunately not seen, many cuckoos. Very much like the arrival of the Swallows and Swifts, the Cuckoo seems to mark a transition between the seasons.
I have heard the Cuckoo singing from high up in the rock strewn hills of the Duddon Valley. It's plaintive 'voice' mirroring the wild, lonely nature of the Fells. I have just caught the Cuckoo's two note cry above the wind that blew, hard across the great expanse of Ennerdale Water. Here the Cuckoo's call seems at odds as this is a watery world, with Sandpipers and Wagtails flitting across the water. Then in more sylvan and therefore more familiar surroundings of Torver, the cuckoo can be heard, but not seen. You know it is perching on one of the Oaks or Beach Trees that fill up this wide valley.
Their distinctive call echoes around the hills and mountains of the Lake District, filling the soundscape with a magical, otherworldly essence. The fields are now filled with hundred of newly born lambs. The Cuckoo's calls merge in with the bleating of the Lambs, the trill of the Wren and the caroling of the Skylarks. Summer is Coming in!
Loudly sing cuckoo
Groweth seed and bloweth mead
and springs the wood anew
Sing cuckoo!
Ewe bleateth aft-er lamb,
Calf loweth after cow,
Bullock starteth, buck farteth,
Merry sing cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!
Well singest thou cuckoo,
Nor cease thou never now!
Sing cuckoo now, Sing cuckoo!"
Over the last few weeks I have heard, but unfortunately not seen, many cuckoos. Very much like the arrival of the Swallows and Swifts, the Cuckoo seems to mark a transition between the seasons.
I have heard the Cuckoo singing from high up in the rock strewn hills of the Duddon Valley. It's plaintive 'voice' mirroring the wild, lonely nature of the Fells. I have just caught the Cuckoo's two note cry above the wind that blew, hard across the great expanse of Ennerdale Water. Here the Cuckoo's call seems at odds as this is a watery world, with Sandpipers and Wagtails flitting across the water. Then in more sylvan and therefore more familiar surroundings of Torver, the cuckoo can be heard, but not seen. You know it is perching on one of the Oaks or Beach Trees that fill up this wide valley.
Their distinctive call echoes around the hills and mountains of the Lake District, filling the soundscape with a magical, otherworldly essence. The fields are now filled with hundred of newly born lambs. The Cuckoo's calls merge in with the bleating of the Lambs, the trill of the Wren and the caroling of the Skylarks. Summer is Coming in!