Fiancée was doing singing things all yesterday daytime, which left me a couple of hours to kill constructively over in Hampshire. Seeing as I hadn't been there for a while, I went for a slow wander down the Liss Riverside Walk.
There I learned just how rusty my birdsong gets after a long winter of no singing. Robins and Blackbirds were easy to pick out, as were Wrens, but the million and one calls of the Great Tit started catching me out again, and I didn't recognise Treecreeper until I'd actually eyeballed one (or four actually, great views). The walk is a bit of a Passerine haven, although it was closed off before reaching the bridge and the route around was too muddy for me to brave it in trainers.
No mystery warblers to report, so spring hasn't quite reached here yet, but with reports of Martins and Wheatears starting to emerge I'm keeping a close eye on the skies.
And a close ear on xeno-canto.