Skirr Cottage Diary.

Heard the first cuckoo of the year yesterday which is always a magic moment. There is always something very special about hearing its unmistakeable notes on the breeze drifting down from the Edge. Even as a child - when they were more common than now - we knew the bird to be mysterious and wonderful; some local woods are even named after them like Cuckoo Wood up Lightwood on the outskirts of Buxton. A walk up the Old Road didn't conjure a short-eared but I did gain site of a small fall of wheatear and meadow pipits so was well satisfied. Today whilst working at the Community Garden I was greeted by the music of skylarks in the next field. The house Martins were in good numbers too.