Sing a song of a spinning sixpence

The first is the colour of their legs. A chiffchaff has dark-coloured legs while those of the willow warbler are much lighter, being a pale yellowish-tan. If you can't get close enough to see their legs, then the other identifying feature is their song. The chiffchaff sings its own name; it will perch high in a tree or hedgerow while almost invisible to us, but its presence can often be revealed by its repetitive, metallic-sounding chirps which can best be described as sounding like its name. The song of the willow warbler is both longer and more musical. One of the best descriptions I have come across is that it sounds like a sixpence being spun on a china plate, and being allowed to come to rest. I must admit I don't know whether a decimal penny will produce similar sounds but a spinning sixpence did emulate the willow warbler's music to a remarkable degree.

Our local chiffchaff appeared on March 28 and was singing in a copse as I enjoyed my morning walk. This bird reaches our shores a couple of weeks before its cousin but its song is a prominent indication that spring has surely arrived.

IT would be difficult to imagine our countryside without hedgerows although some areas do not have them. Examples include regions like the Pennine Dales where dry stone walls dominate, or the very low-lying districts where dykes or ditches, designed to drain away surplus surface water, fulfil a similar purpose.

For most of us, the sight of a well-trimmed hedge in full leaf is so much a part of the English landscape that we can tend to overlook or ignore it. These rows of wild shrubs and trees are not there by accident, however, nor are they particularly ancient. Most were introduced during the eighteenth century as a means of dividing the land and many were subjected to a variety of very localised Enclosure Acts, some of which specified that parish councils should maintain these hedgerows "for ever".

With more than 4,000 Enclosure Acts, each relating to a particular area, there are bound to be variations in the wording which means that those ancient regulations governing hedgerows differ widely from place to place. Just who has the responsibility for upkeep of hedgerows is therefore open to debate.

What is known, however, is that in recent years, the numbers of hedgerows in our countryside have dwindled to such an extent that many have vanished for ever. For example, between 1946 and 1974, some 5,000 miles of hedgerow were removed every year, and it was all done because it was claimed necessary from an agricultural aspect. It was said that larger fields could cope more easily with the increasingly sophisticated and vastly bigger items of farm machinery and in turn, this increased the yield of crops, made agriculture more efficient and maintained lower prices.

It took some years for the real value of hedgerows to be appreciated and perhaps their vital conservation role was not understood until they had vanished.

Some years ago, I recall seeing the departure of several hundred yards of a hawthorn hedge which in turn increased the size of a field; part of that hedge bordered a busy road and within weeks of it being uprooted, the light top soil from the field was steadily blown away by the wind. It gathered along the road where, in wet weather, it became a patch of mud, and as fast as it was cleared, more dusty earth replaced it. It wasn't long before that field was displaying acres of stones instead of rich earth.

Just as important is the effect upon wildlife. If one adds together all the miles of hedgerow in this country, it is said the total comes to more than all the nature reserves put together. As every hedgerow is itself a small haven for wildlife, it means the total area of hedgerows adds up to the nation's largest nature reserve. By protecting or preserving our hedges, we are therefore helping, in all manner of ways, to conserve our wildlife in all its wonderful variety.

If we tend to think hedges are not all that important in the great scheme of nature, here are some figures to set you thinking. According to research by the CPRE, our hedges contain 15pc of our native stock of broadleaved trees, 600 species of flowering plants, 1,500 species of insect, 65 species of birds and 20 species of mammals. They provide homes for animals like bank voles, shrews, rabbits and mice, hunting grounds for weasels and stoats, nesting sites for several birds such as the chaffinch, dunnock, thrush and blackbird, as well as havens for butterflies and beetles and other insects.

Furthermore, a good hedge will provide shelter for domestic livestock in addition to being a wonderful boundary marker. In the North-East, we tend to think of hedges being chiefly hawthorn or blackthorn, with perhaps a few pieces of holly or gorse, but other parts of the country offer a wonderful variety of hedgerow plants. The east of the country has hedges of elm, holly, lilac, blackthorn and wild plum; the East Midlands can boast fruit trees in its hedgerows, such as damson and other plums, along with hazel and holly, while in the West Midlands, holly and hazel are also prominent, along with various fruit trees.

The South-West provides an odd mixture, including fuchsia, evergreen spindle and pittosporum (a flowering shrub whose foliage is grown commercially for florists), as well as hawthorn, gorse, blackthorn, tamarisk (a hardy evergreen shrub), beech and box, with a similar variety in the South-East.

Here in the North, however, thorns seem to dominate the hedgerows - the North-West has thorns of various kinds including roses, as well as wild plum, damson and crab apple, while in the North-East we seem to favour hawthorn, blackthorn, gorse in windswept areas, and trees like willow, alder and holly.

Across the country, many hedges include conifers of various kinds, as well as mature trees like beech, elm, ash and oak, while I believe, there are even complete oak tree hedges in Kent.

If a hedge is to be maintained, however, it must be cultivated and trimmed and a little care will ensure it thrives for centuries and helps to support our wildlife.

But who should maintain our hedges? Farmers and landowners do their share, but who should tend all those hedges with no known owner?

IF fox-hunting is to be abolished because the pursuit of these pests by hounds is perceived as cruel to the fox, then why does New Labour not make it illegal for domestic cats to chase mice and birds? Imagine a cat owner being fined £5,000 if Tibbles hunted and caught a sparrow! And what about rabbits being chased by ferrets, rats being trapped or caught by terriers or fish being impaled on hooks? Such anthropomorphic attitudes towards the cunning fox by ill-informed Labour MPs from urban areas does not ring true if they ignore the cruel behaviour of a cuddly tabby cat toying with a live mouse or bird before killing it, and so, surely, if fox-hunting is to be banned, why does the same logic about animal cruelty not apply to mice, rats, birds and rabbits? Or even dogs kept in town flats?

The more one considers the reason for the proposed ban on fox-hunting, the more it seems to be an attack upon a certain group of people within our society, with scant regard for the real plight of foxes and other wildlife.

I wonder what would be the situation if all hunting people had black skins or came from an ethnic minority? Would it then be banned? Indeed, if this proposal was a genuine consideration for the fox, would hunting be banned? It has been argued that without hunting, the fox would already be extinct in this country, either having been shot, trapped or poisoned (along with all those other creatures which might fall into the same trap, take the same poison or get in the way of the guns).

It is not an easy matter to determine, but as a countryman (not a hunting man), it does seem this proposal is rooted in class warfare, not animal welfare. If that is the case, it is a disgusting thing for any government to undertake