Cuckoo: sound of spring May 2025
By Kerry Williams – Communications Officer: Conservation
It’s become a tradition of mine to go camping locally for a few nights in May. Being emersed in nature, spending evenings by firelight, and absorbing the abundant buzz of wildlife; it’s a good-for-the-soul time to be outdoors in Sussex.
Hawthorn, or the May tree, is flowering in fragrant blooms. Bats are flitting enmasse from maternity roosts at dusk to forage. Badgers are on the trundle and Foxes on the trot. And yes, there are loads of lovely baby bunnies. In Sussex, we are lucky to retain a population of visiting Nightingales, and on uninterrupted May nights the males are in full rattling, palpitating symphony. Tawny Owls ke-wik and Barn Owls shriek. Woodlands burst into carpets of indigo as Bluebell scent fills the understory.
Amidst this, an undulating ‘beep-boop’ can be heard, a natural metronome. It is one of our most recognisable bird calls, and the onomatopoeic sound of spring and summer; the Cuckoo.
Arriving from Africa in March, Cuckoos infamously lay their eggs in other birds’ nests, sneakily replacing an egg of an unsuspecting parent for them to incubate, feed and fledge. The not-so-little Cuckoo nestling shunts other eggs, and even youngsters, out of the nest, outcompeting any remaining for resources, becoming the last chonky chick standing. Regularly hoodwinked are Reed Warblers, Dunnocks and Meadow Pipits.
Mostly insectivorous, with a penchant for Hairy Caterpillars, adult Cuckoos spend their days feeding prior to their homeward migration. Having not had chicks to rear and fledge, they leave around June, with the new generation following later in summer.
Overall, it sounds like Cuckoos are having a pretty easy time of it. However, as is the story of so many of our native species, they are under threat. Cuckoos have declined by 65% since the 1980s and are now on the UK conservation Red List. The usual suspects are at play of habitat loss, climate change, and pesticide use resulting in food scarcity. Additionally, these issues have befallen many of their host species, leading to similar population declines, or, at the least, Cuckoo-bewildering behaviour changes such as earlier breeding.
Despite their size and familiarity, these elusive birds are not an easy spot. In a second act of mistaken identity, their barred chest can often resemble that of a Sparrowhawk. Although their calming calls have accompanied many a spring sundowner for me, I’m still yet to see one myself. Perhaps this year could be my year. Maybe.