I urge, no, plead is a better word, that all Maltese families who may be visiting the UK or Europe on holiday find a nearby woodland or forestland where they will be able to experience one of nature's greatest productions. Something that will remain in their memories perhaps all their lives.

This cannot happen in Malta, while mindless morons destroy newly planted trees or blast every living thing out of the sky.

I am referring to nature's "dawn chorus" (and it's free), a magnificent symphony of bird song with each bird trying to out-sing its neighbour.

The birds will announce to the bird world that they claim their territorial rights on their patch of woods and their mate is already spoken for. You will hear, and see, the song thrush blackbirds, robins, chaffinches, linnets, the caw-caw of crows and rooks, the tap-tap-tapping of the woodpecker. You will hear the cuckoo who, for some reason, changes its call in July from cuckoo to cuck-cuck-coo.

You should see squirrels scampering among the tree branches trying to rob the birds' nest of eggs. Rabbits will be watchful but will be around you. You should also see kestrels and sparrow hawks wheeling in the sky ready to rob any unattended nest of its contents.

If you are lucky enough to be near water, that too has its own scenario. The duck and drake protecting their own family of baby ducklings, acting like destroyers in a wartime convoy, keeping the ducklings in tight control against the lurking fish, the pike that lies in wait in the shoreline rushes. But the prize, if you are lucky enough to see one, is the beautiful kingfisher. This most lovely bird will be observed perched on the branch of a tree overlooking the stream or river. Then, in a flash of colour, it dives into the water and emerges with a minnow or a stickleback between its beak to take it to its mate or fledgling in their nest.

There is so much more to see and hear, but you will have to get up early, before dawn, to get to your patch of woods as dawn breaks. And of course as the day starts, so it ends.

So before you return to Malta and as dusk is falling go to the same woods you visited before. This time you will hear much subdued bird sounds as they settle to roost for the night. This is known as the "birds' evening song".

But you will also hear the twit-wooing of the owl. You will hear the noisy chattering of hundreds of starlings as they gather in great flocks that remind you of swarms of locusts. These starlings will roost for the night in ruined buildings, deserted barns and the like.

But the supreme bird song in many people's opinion is the haunting, melancholy but beautiful song of the nightingale.

I only hope that anyone who takes the trouble to spend time with nature realises how important the environment is to the world's fabric, and that more and more people concern themselves with animal welfare so that not in my lifetime or perhaps my children's lifetime, but perhaps one day Malta will become a green and pleasant land with woods, protected animals and birds, their welfare being jealously guarded by the Maltese people themselves.

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