The whole world seemed to burst into song: two thrushes began calling at the same moment

I was on Moor Lane when the whole world seemed to burst into song. Two thrushes had begun calling at the same moment, one from the very top of the oak I was walking beneath, the other from a nearby ash tree. Seconds later, perched somewhere in the tall sycamore growing over the sewage works, a third joined in. The Moor Lane song thrushes have been singing intermittently for a fortnight, but this morning their melodies exploded like musical fireworks. Such an outpouring could mean only one thing: the business of contesting breeding territories and attracting females had begun in earnest.

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