The Art of Noticing ~ March 2025

Each month our Nature, Ecology & Wellness Guardian, Briony Cobb keeps a diary of the things she has noticed whilst going about her work on the Elmore Court rewilding land, here is her March diary: 

3^rd March – The sun is out and the skylarks are singing as they fly over the scrapes. In the adjacent field, snipe are driven out of the reeds by the sound of my footfall. A curious rabbit hops between hedgerows, untroubled by my presence.

4^th March – Two robins battle for territory in a tree in the walled garden, the sound of a woodpecker drumming in the distance on the rewilding land. Shoots are beginning to appear in the ground.

5^th March - The air is alive with the smell of damp, warm earth – early spring’s sensory song. Earthworms surface, enriching the soil ready for life to flourish.

6^th March – The day almost feels like summer, if not for the nip in the air. The longhorns congregate along the track, slowing my journey. A grey heron flies away, disturbed from its position between the cattle.

7^th March – The songbirds sing a joyful song as though their spirits too are lifted by the sunshine. Frogs leap on the margins of the pond, undisturbed by my solitary presence. A pair of ducks weave through the reeds at the far margins.

9^th March – Two playful foxes frolic playfully at dusk. A barn owl flies overhead, and the call of little owls and tawny owls is heard in the distance.

13^th March – The strong wind creates a magnificent pattern of undulating ripples on the pond, with the reeds dancing in unison. Two Canada geese chatter as they fly overhead.

14^th March – A brown hare surveys me from a distance, assessing whether I’m a threat. Many new molehills have appeared overnight – unsurprising given their ability to dig up to 20 metres of tunnels per day.

17^th March – From afar, the oak trees that stand proud on the transition between the Court and the rewilding land look bare and skeletal, yet up close and you can see the buds of new growth. The last vestiges of last autumn’s leaves still blanket their bases. The distinctive song of the great tit muffles any other song. How can something so small sound so mighty?

18^th March – The ground crunches underfoot where last week it squelched, and skylarks sing from the reeds gently undulating in the breeze. A weasel darts out of the woodland undergrowth. Deeper in the woodland, the midday sunlight is dappled creating pockets of gold. A concealed hare darts away as I approach, graceful in her speed – nature’s marker of spring.

19^th March – When you’re actually looking for a hare, you’ll never find one! However, the bumble bees were aplenty today, enjoying the emergent dandelions. Dandelions are little wonders, cleaning up the soil in which they root. Alongside nettles and burdock, they are also wonderful for detoxing, which our bodies naturally start to do in spring, reminding us that nature really is on our side.

20^th March – Spring equinox/Ostara. Rather poetically, I see my first butterfly on the first day of spring, a brimstone, with wings the pale green of fresh cut willow. To add to the spring poetry, a hare appears – Easter’s original mascot.

22^nd March – A warm dusk on the land, in search of one of our resident barn owls. Her tree is empty, it’s inhabitant likely hunting. The distinctive call of a little owl sounds from across the field, and two muntjacs graze at the foot of Windmill Hill. Two roe deer appear onto the hill from the woods, one signalling my presence to the other. At last light, in a smack of wings and squawks, a sparrowhawk preys upon the little owl, who mercifully flies away.

24^th March – Usually only seen at the lake, a kingfisher glides down one of the ditches that scar the land in a flash of electric blue. The air feels alive with freshly hatched insects, and the grassland birds hunt for their lunch.

25^th March – Disturbed by my footfall, a grey heron appears from the ditches, it’s slow and heavy wing beats taking it toward the scrapes. A lone muntjac grazes through the woodland, glimpsing me from afar but knowing she’s safe. A woodpecker hammers – every time I think I’ve reached its tree the sound moves.

27^th March – In search of an elusive woodpecker, I pause at the base of an evergreen tree and just listen, picturing the sap rising which I know is rising beneath the bark, as it does in early spring.

28^th March – A peacock butterfly floats past as the sound of toads fulfilling their annual call to migrate carries on the otherwise quiet breeze. Spring truly has arrived.

31^st March – Chasing the Severn Bore. The river stops in it’s tracks seconds before the bore appears from around a meander in the river. Bumblebees potter through the long grass, untroubled by the slowly rising water.

Read Briony's February and January Journals.