Chiffchaff by Rosemary Winnall
I wake with the sun streaming through the gap between the curtains and I hear our chiffchaff singing through the open window. I’d watched him the previous afternoon, singing from the top of the willow and looking dapper. He’s still waiting for a female to arrive but he’s chosen a good territory.
I’d looked around searching for places a chiffchaff might nest. I’d found one a few years ago in the garden low down in a tangle of bush and brambles, its domed nest looking a bit like a wren’s but larger and less tidy.