The family ambled down the gorse lined slope, with scores of sheep, confined to the next door field, making quite the racket. Buzzards wheeled around above, and unknown songbirds flitted above the undergrowth briefly. There seemed to be more people out than usual for the time (early evening), and we certainly had help achieving our goals that night. A sighting here, a pointer there. But so we pressed on into the moorland valley, the sun getting lower by the minute.
Both bluebells and pipits were out in force tonight, with much of the green grass stained indigo, and sweet scents floating on the air. Brown birds with speckled breasts undulated in flight, with both Meadow and Tree pipits featuring in the evening performance. Just darting out from cover, or showing off their extravagant parachuting display. Incredible to watch, and their constant presence was part of what drove us on in our search.
We stopped abruptly, to watch two buzzards grappling with each other. It certainly wasn’t pretty, with a third joining in and many grappling claws, and dangerously low swoops. Eventually, the ruckus died down, and we continued on.
As we headed towards the old barn, we heard for the first time. Faint. Distant. But there. A cuckoo, its voice carrying on the wind. I grinned. This proved to be a consistent soundtrack for around another ten minutes of our walk, seemingly edging closer. And closer. And closer. Jackdaws and Crows circled above us, guarding their nests from the apparently imminent threat. We stopped for a rest by a rock.
And suddenly, it materialised out of the hedgerow, making a beeline for a stunted holly tree, stark in the open. And it sat there. Calling. And calling…
And in swooped a second, diving at the first! The original bird, in shock and caught in the open, was dislodged, and threw itself towards the nearest outpost, a tiny tree surrounded by granite. It’s attacker sat calling smugly, perched right at the top of its new home. And then came the first bird, once again, targeting its assailant. They scuffled, and spent a while chasing each other off. But the first bird always circled around back to its holly. It would not budge. Except when mobbed by a stonechat. Taken completely by surprise, it flew off once agin, but this time, like the second one, did not return.
Happy, we strolled off back towards the car. At the little stream though, they turned up AGAIN! Pursuing each other off into the distance. That was the last we saw of them. Such magnificent birds, the cuckoos. Thats 4 years that we have seen them at the same place. Emsworthy Mire, in my opinion, is one of the most reliable places for Cuckoos in Devon. I highly recommend this Dartmoor site for birdwatching, especially in spring/summer time when everything is kicking off.
The Bovey Birder 