Having written thousands of nature columns from the depths of the North Yorkshire countryside, I was beginning to think that there was nothing new to experience in this most lovely neck of the woods.

Having written thousands of nature columns from the depths of the North Yorkshire countryside, I was beginning to think that there was nothing new to experience in this most lovely neck of the woods. How wrong I was. During the recent cold snap, I was walking down a lane through the snow when I heard a chuntering, bubbling sound. A flock of birds were gathering. With each step, the sound intensified like a huge pan seething to the boil. On reaching the village football pitch, I saw that the ash trees were laden with scores of fieldfares: those members of the thrush family that roam our winter countryside chuckling like cartoon hyenas.

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