Sibelius

At first light this morning, I was standing outside in the crisp air listening to something like tubular bells gently echoing and pulsing through the forest. I had no idea what it was. Possibly birds, maybe an animal, or even man-made. I'd attracted in five moths and nothing very exciting, but, to hear the sound was completely enchanting.

Whilst dad met a man about an elk mid-morning, I headed off into the woods to see what I could find. 

Another sound. 

The distinctive tapping of a woodpecker. 

I scoured the tree tops for a devious bird that will hide behind a branch when it knows you're there. Walking slowly and not so quietly in the snapping twigs underfoot towards the noise, I kept searching. Not being able to see anything but knowing I was pretty close, I took a lower scan. No more than ten metres away was a greater spotted woodpecker on this broken pine trunk, merrily ignoring my presence. So I merrily enjoyed watching it before quietly backing away, pleased with my find.

We've whiled away the afternoon and, as the sun came out a little, we dressed up for the cold to watch the sunset.

And there was the music again! 

I hadn't been able to describe it very well; it had left me with a feeling rather than a noise but this was it. Cranes or whoopers, dad was convinced. And he thought he knew where. So we set off in search.

I sent dad first to catch the cobwebs between the pines and sure enough, he found them on the other side of the peninsula. 

Whooper swans. 

Making a louder noise up close but just as magical as this morning. And then we saw more flying in - in threes, fours and fives, all the time calling, until there were about 50 of them. It was incredibly moving to watch these beauties, possibly on migration but certainly having an evening tête-a-tête.

A special honour.  This Sibelius of swans.






(A little bit of Finnish nature if you have time.)