Despite its name, the wheatear has absolutely nothing to do with ears of wheat. Instead, the name is a corruption of an Anglo-Saxon phrase meaning “white-arse”, from the bird’s bright white rump, which it reveals as it hops on to rocks, or flies away.
From the middle of March onwards, long before most migrants have returned, I expect to see one or two wheatears down on the Somerset coast.
The first sighting is always a special one, because although chiffchaffs and blackcaps usually arrive a week or two beforehand, those species are short-distance migrants.
The wheatear, in contrast, has flown all the way here from sub-Saharan Africa, from Senegal in the west to Kenya in the east, where they have spent the northern hemisphere winter in warmer and more benevolent climes.
The key dilemma facing these long-distance travellers is timing. If they arrive too early, they risk not finding enough food, and perishing before the breeding season has even begun; but if they leave it too late, the best territories will be taken, and they may fail to raise a family.
Early spring arrivals like the wheatear appear to be benefiting from the climate crisis – at least for now. But if droughts affect their winter homes, they may not survive to return at all.
