Due to various organisational/transportational mistakes and difficulties, we missed the annual Plumpton Green Nightingale Walk (May 1st) and we had to find our own way.
It was about quarter past eight and still just about light. We had a torch and phones, etc. but we were still a little apprehensive to be walking off into the evening countryside with no guiding principle except the vague memory of a map on the internet.
We went over stiles supplied by local volunteers called 'The Monday Group' and strayed through farms. It was quiet. There were no cars rumbling in the background. The secluded farmhouses looked like the most peaceful places on earth and then in the gloaming we could just about see a woodland floor carpeted in bluebells. We thought maybe we would see a barn owl and then all would not be wasted if we didn't hear any nightingales.
I don't think we ever considered the possibility of actually seeing a nightingale; questing for a nightingale is usually purely to hear its song. That's why it's famous. It's not for their looks. They actually look pretty boring, just light brown and white, slightly bigger than a robin. Their song and the fact that you can often hear it at night is the reason you have such things as Keats' 'Ode to a Nightingale' and that (human) song, 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square', which is about how mysterious and special it would be if you heard a nightingale singing in the centre of London, seeing as they are usually found in countryside hedgerows.
Their song is varied, with lots of quick repeated blips and blops. I think if someone who didn't know anything about birdsong heard a nightingale singing they would think 'woah! that bird's making some weird noises.' The nightingale is a strong insistent singer with an impressive repertoire.
When a nightingale is singing at night it's because he hasn't found a mate yet. While the others are settling down and getting an early night, he's out partying.
Just after we saw the bluebells, we turned back to go home because it was getting dark and yes we did hear a nightingale singing. It was too dark to see anything but we stayed and listened until it flew away and it was special.
