On an exceptionally mild, still mid-December morning back in the calm before the Christmas and New Year storms, a distant songthrush heralded the dawning of another day.

Precisely at 5.30am he had sung most mornings since late November continuing to sing at intervals throughout the day.

Unfortunately he perches at the summit of a lofty pine over two hundred metres away,right at the limit of my audibility so I miss his full repertoire,only detecting notes uttered in the upper register at such a distance. I seem to wake as if programmed in anticipation of hearing my favourite songster.

Looking out of the window eastwards, the rising sun, as yet hidden from view cast a pale amber glow in the eastern sky, leafless trees etched against the background brightness (pictured).

Into the sunrise flew groups of gulls, lazily making their way to foraging locations having roosted way back on west London reservoirs.

Oddly, one gull flew in the opposite direction. Perhaps he had stayed out all night or maybe preferred the company of jackdaws speeding west towards Wimbledon Common and Richmond Park to spend the day.

High above in the cloudless,palest blue sky,aircraft condensation trails bisected one another like a vast aerial game of noughts and crosses. In the half light, birds began visiting my feeders appearing as vague flitting shadows while a blackbird voiced his alarm call.

Perhaps a fox lurked nearby but still the songthrush continued his glorious though far off recital. Sadly,since mid-December he has been silent. Hopefully his absence is weather-related and nothing sinister and that he will soon return with echoes of spring.