Prologue

As I walked out one June afternoon, I am greeted by the cool, refreshing air my exam-fogged brain craves. It has been raining, the hard and heavy June rain that suppresses and keeps you inside with its closeness. But now it has eased, only the verdant grass remains testament to the deluge, so I set off down the field to the 'damp corner' I call my nature reserve.
Around me, the air is filled with birdsong, blue tit and house sparrows chatter and chunter and a collared dove coos gently, then a sound that stops me in my tracks. Is it? Could it possibly be? I strain my ears again for the soothing disyllabic call of the male cuckoo, but no, he has gone quiet. I continue down the field, crossing from where the donkeys graze to the sheep-cropped land, from where the dazzling lemon of the buttercups creates a haze of gold to where buttercups are few, growing close to the turf like bright stars beneath my boots.
Reaching Pooh's Corner, I am greeted by a shock: the grass, which I only cut recently, has grown so it now reaches far beyond the tops of my wellies. I sigh, sacrificing my dry jeans, I make to wade in. But again something stops me. This time it's a pellet lying on top of the gate. I crush it with a stick: no bones, so not a raptor or owl pellet, but it does show my little haven is being used by wildlife.
I am halfway through checking the trees are not swamped by the recent profusion of foliage when once more I am brought to a halt. There it is again, faint but unmistakable this time, those two notes "cuc-coo... cuc-coo", coming from across the valley.
A sense of relief floods through me, I thought it would be too late for this particular harbinger of spring to be calling now it is mid June. It is also a comfort as each spring I listen intently for the cuckoo, dreading the year when I don’t hear it, evidence of another nail in the coffin of this sub-Saharan migrant.
I pause. Should I start my count now, just to include cuckoo on my list? Should I bring forward my start date, just to satisfy my compulsive listing habit? Mentally, I slap my wrist: no! I will start on Sunday, as I have always planned, once exam season is over, to record each and every species not only in Pooh's Corner, but on my whole patch this summer.
Birds, beasts and butterflies, insects and amphibians, all varieties of wild flora and fauna in fact. (Provided I can identify it, of course!) I have decided on this challenge, inspired by the 1000 Species Challenge, to keep me busy through this long and blissful summer. Not only this, but it will also put me back in touch with nature in all its forms since my enforced sojourn away dedicated to more academic learning, and widen and fine-tune my knowledge and ID skills. I intend to learn about plants and insects as well as consolidating up and expanding my somewhat limited recognition of bird calls and song. (I am currently reading Say Goodbye to the Cuckoo, by Michael McCarthy and his chapter about 'warbling' with Mark Cocker has left my feeling both awed and inadequate!)
I know this will be challenging, and at the moment my tired head cannot quite fathom how I will do it, but it will be fun and insightful, I hope, and I cannot wait to get started!

But right now, I think it is tea time! :)