Odd people rose early all over the world on International Dawn Chorus Day, but at 4 o'clock on a chilly morning only twenty had the rare pleasure of being served tea and coffee by the Warden in the Information Centre. A Tawny Owl called querulously as his night's hunting was ending.

As we sipped our hot cuppas a CD was played to help us identify the bird songs. We hoped to hear some of these birds singing at this hour. Then we set off, picking our way past puddles with the aid of torches, which we were able to extinguish as soon as we entered the Butterfly Ride, and we attuned our ears to the first songs rising on the air as dawn broke. Were we going to hear what we were hoping for? It had been heard during the previous few days.

Yes, indeed, we were - the unmistakable piping, fluting, liquid notes of the Nightingale, which grew louder as we made our way down the Easy Access Trail, walking on the grass in order to deaden our footsteps so that we could approach within 30 metres of a male bird singing his heart out to attract a passing female. We thrilled to the sound for several minutes, and then left him with our best wishes that his efforts would meet with success and that we might be able to claim a nesting record later on.

To my knowledge it is twenty years since a Nightingale was heard in Norsey Wood, and nearly as long as that since I heard one anywhere in Billericay - although some of these birds have probably flown over on their way to Fingringhoe Wick, their Essex stronghold. It is gratifying to have proof that our coppicing regime is producing suitable habitat for this delightful songster.

We moved on, realizing that we were unlikely to better the experience on this particular morning, but listening for whatever else was about. The Robins were in evidence all over the Wood, as were the Blackbirds. Just one Song Thrush was heard, rehearsing his repertoire, while a domestic rooster loudly proclaimed his territorial rights alongside Break Egg Hill. The explosive bursts of the Wren's song cut through the background murmuring and cooing of the Wood Pigeon and Collared Dove. We were able to distinguish the Great Tit's song from that of the Blue Tit, and with more difficulty that of the latter from the Coal Tit. Gradually everyone appreciated the difference between the typical 'teacher' call of the Great Tit and that of the Chiff-Chaff

Then the descending cadence of the Willow Warbler was heard, much less frequently than its fellow warbler; they are difficult to separate visually, but aurally distinct. Later, a third member of the family - the Black Cap - treated us to his more varied song. Several Green Woodpeckers were heard 'yaffling', and we caught a glimpse of one. The Greater Spotted Woodpecker drummed away, to be answered by others signaling their territory. Just one Chaffinch was heard, along with the harsh cries of the Jay, the Crow and the Magpie - not tuneful but part of the scene - along with a furtive fox and a nervous pheasant.

Our thanks to the staff of the BDC Countryside Services, who left their warm beds to afford us the opportunity of hearing another dawn chorus.