Listen... Do you smell something?
A splash of rain stimulates the sounds and smells of Caldy Nature Park.
There's a repetitive whistling from above me and Caper that sounds like a wheezy rubber toy being chewed with dogged determination. I know it's a bird of prey but I'm still learning the lingo when it comes to birds. The ID app Merlin tells me its a sparrowhawk and I chastise myself for not considering the habitat before I cheated with technology.
It's still hot but there's finally been a splash of rain and the alder carr (waterlogged woodland) here at Caldy Nature Park seems partially revived. It's too late for the scrawny sloes which look particularly small at the top of the sloping path that forms the park's northern perimeter. The mirabelle plums on the opposite side must have tapped into some stored water. Yellow fruits almost glow where they are suspended in the shade, looking like globe string lights without the light pollution. The smell in the small orchard reminds me of summer fairgrounds; dry grass compressed underfoot has released its oils and the fruit is sickly sweet in the direct sunshine.
Looping back around past the pond, there's another bird call I don't recognise. I picture an elderly typist, striking stiff keys. Merlin says it's a nuthatch and I can't argue as it's tucked away in the canopy, invisible to my eyes. It feels a bit science-fiction to have a bird translator in my pocket and I don't know if I always like it. Then again, it's nice to know the woods isn't just full of broken dog toys and ageing secretaries.
