I had to go to That London to spend two days in the recording studio – not my latest album, a new audiobook. But I still had time for a session of hard labour in the hammock. A rush of work before that had left me in a split-level state of mind: half-buzzing from exertion, half-dozy from weariness.

The hammock accepted me gratefully. I pulled the peak of my cap over my eyes and got on with the job of observing nature. It was warm, sunny, the bare branches of the ash tree that supports one end of the hammock letting the sun through without hindrance.

And a blackcap started to sing. Many say that blackcaps sing better than nightingales. Certainly their song is more conventionally tuneful and it’s far more widely available: you’re likely to hear one anywhere you find mature broadleaf trees.

The timbre is fruity and flutey: richer and more operatic than robins. The melody is developed and complex, and usually follows a few introductory phrases that are challenging and less musical. Recicative and aria, it’s been called.

But this singer wasn’t up to a full performance. He kept trying a few phrases, but lacked commitment and confidence. When he hit his stride he was pretty good, but no sooner had he got going than he broke off again.

Fair enough. Spring is a good way from its peak and so was he. He was warming up, getting his eye in, preparing himself for High Spring. In a week or two he’ll be unbeatable, but right now, he seemed a little… self-conscious. But he knew from his tree-top song-post and I knew from my hammock that for him, greatness is just around the corner.

https://www.waterstones.com/book/spring-is-the-only-season/simon-barnes/9781526667359

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Spring-Only-Season-Works-Matters/dp/1526667355