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Amberley south


It’s a late start on a cold, breezy day for the walk along the river from Amberley station to Arundel, and that’s evident in the limited bird song and activity.

There isn’t much to note between the station and North Stoke apart from a Raven duelling with a Buzzard, while the carr woodland on the former meander of the Arun between the Gurkha Bridge and South Stoke is strangely quiet. A few Chiffchaffs and Blackcaps singing intermittently and a tame Song Thrush by the path are as good as it gets.
Things pick up as South Stoke nears. A Cuckoo calls distantly from the area where a Large Tortoiseshell was seen a year ago. There have been no sightings this year, though the area, always wet, is still a quagmire after the winter’s rain. There’s hope yet.
The sky is clouding ominously as I cross the bridge to South Stoke, the river dotted by occasional spots of rain. A small flock of Swallows is swirling low by the bridge, then erupt in panic as a Hobby streaks above them. It shows no interest as it flies purposefully on.
Just beyond the village the river’s edge is buzzing with the calls of Reed Warblers, but the song I’d hoped for on the opposite side of the Arun is absent. It may be too late in the morning, or too cold, or too windy, but there’s no sound today of last year’s Nightingale.
This is the third spot I’ve checked near Arundel where one was present last year but has not appeared so far. The signs are not good.
Nightingales are back at some regular sites, and have been for a week and more. At least three were singing regularly yesterday at their Pulborough stronghold when I heard them while watching a Black-winged Stilt. And it wasn’t that much warmer and certainly no earlier than today.
There is still time for the Nightingale to turn up, but I won’t hear it today. The occasional spots of rain are merging into a shower before turning into full-fledged rain as I resume the trek to Arundel. The Reed Warblers by the path remain in good voice and are joined further by a few Sedge Warblers. But however hard I listen, I can hear no phrases from the Nightingale’s song in their relentless mimicry.

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