The song of the skylark is one of those glorious sounds of the English countryside. At our farm at Grabbishaw we can hear skylarks high above trilling their beautiful song, sometimes so high that you can hardly see them. The males fly as high as they can to sing loudly to claim their territorial boundaries.
I am reminded of that beautiful piece of music by Ralph Vaughan Williams, inspired by a poem by George Meredith, “The Lark Ascending” and Shelley’s earlier poem, “Ode to a Skylark” in which he writes of “the unpremeditated art” of the bird’s song.
However, in all the years that I have heard the song of the skylark and seen larks rising up from the ground on our farms and elsewhere I have never seen a nest with eggs or fledglings.
So it was with great excitement that farm manager, Rob Stoner, reported that he had chanced upon and photographed a lark’s nest complete with three young chicks. A highly unusual find!
Within a few days the chicks had grown further and left the nest.
Hopefully next time I walk that field I shall hear the blissful song of these small birds, perhaps even hear one from the nest Rob photographed.