As winter withdraws and spring rapidly approaches, I am reminded of how much I love nature’s new beginnings.

Already I have seen my first adder of the year, along with a common lizard, and brimstone butterflies. It is like seeing old friends again and is comforting to know that the seasonal song is still beating to the same familiar rhythm despite the environmental damage we are causing.

An anonymous poet once claimed “the Earth has music for those who listen”. When we put away our mobiles, take off our headphones, open our ears and switch off our modern world of noise, we can hear our beautiful planet breathe. Hearing the sound of the rain on the ground, the wind in the trees, the waves on the shore and the singing and buzzing of the life around us, makes us feel connected to the nature on which we are all so dependent.

For this is the soundtrack of our lives; the music of the Earth that, like an owl in the darkness, sings on the edge of our consciousness. Being a birdwatcher since childhood, it is birdsong that constantly cuts through my thoughts and warms my heart the most. A week or so ago, in the late February sunshine, I heard my first skylarks of the year, and since then my ears have been finely tuned to the unfolding Spring symphony and the imminent arrival of our migrant warblers; the Chiffchaff often being the first and most dominant with its “chiff chaff, chiff chaff, chiff-chiff-chiff”.

Environmental psychologists have shown that listening to bird song that is quiet, has a high frequency or is complex and melodic, is both soothing and mentally restorative. For example, the descending whistle of a willow warbler or the varied, sweet repetitive trills of a nightingale. Although pigeons or starlings wouldn’t score highly on the ‘soothing scale’, they still have their place in nature’s repertoire. For me, I love the soft, tuneful, territorial song of a blackbird in the middle of the night or the loud, powerful jingle of our common wrens.

But perhaps my favourite is the yellowhammer’s song “a little bit of bread and no cheese” as this was the first call I learned as a child. Since then, it has felt truly delightful to gradually recognise the music of our common birds and who it is that is singing to me.

Contact Dr Susie Curtin at curtin.susanna@gmail.com.