Stumbling around a dark, drizzly forest in Wales at 4am, with 50m of tangled microphone cable and the taste of last night's curry still in your mouth, is not normal human behaviour.
But then, I'm not interested in normal human behaviour. I'm here, in Coed Llandegla, Wales, ahead of International Dawn Chorus Day, to learn from Bafta-winning wildlife sound recordist Chris Watson about the best way to capture the magic of a dawn chorus.
We arrive well before sunrise — and before the birds are vocal — to set up microphones. That way the birds get used to their presence, rather than "spooked" in to silence later by seeing us put them in place. Then we hide ourselves away in a more sheltered part of the forest, at the other end of very long cables, headphones at the ready. And wait.
That first call — perhaps a distant tawny owl — is so lonely and beautiful that the criminally early start to the day suddenly seems worthwhile.
The part of my recording featured here was taken in a small clearing of this coniferous forest, and documents the loudest part of that day's chorus, at roughly 5.45am.
You can also hear drops of rain and dew falling in to little pools nearby. As for the range of birds, I'm still learning to recognise their songs and calls — so perhaps some experienced twitchers out there can help me out …
