I awoke to the song of a Mistle Thrush, a beautiful tune when one is halfway between asleep and awake. It sounded as if it was in the garden, probably perched in what I think is a Cherry Tree. By the time I was out of the door it had departed, still singing, but further away in the nearby copse. It was to be a morning of song and calls that allowed me to pick up more returning migrants. A Willow Warbler was singing in the scrub, the end of the song to me sounds like he is laughing all the way to the bank. On the other side of the reserve, a Blackcap fired out its own tune. Last year, I welcomed back these pair on the 13th and 14th of April respectively. Factoring in a harsh Winter and my proximity to the patch would suggest it was always likely I would pick these two up earlier this year, but to record them both in March is at least of note if not significant. I will compile a list of arrivals and departures in the near future. Elsewhere, a Kingfisher bombed away from the river and o...