Skylarks and their inspirational song

One of my favourite local walks in summer is along a path below Ivinghoe Beacon, then climbing up to the ridge to look out over the extensive lowlands below. In the past, there was an added bonus, as there were several skylark nests in the fields that formed the first part of the walk and it was a joy to listen to their song and then try to spot them high up: very high up, for they take a bit of finding without binoculars. It is only the males that sing in this way and the flight is used to advertise their breeding territory. They may fly up several hundred metres before “hovering” for a minute or two, then descending rapidly. Singing is constant on the upward flight and when the skylark appears suspended at its zenith. 

Sadly, there are no longer skylarks in the fields next to Ivinghoe Beacon; at least, I haven’t heard them. Changes in farming practice and, especially, the time of year when grain is planted is one reason why these birds are now on the British conservation Red list [1]. Grain crops planted in early winter grow too tall for the larks in the breeding season, as they need easy access to the nest. 

Although they are rather dull in colour (see the image above) compared to some other birds, the effect of skylark song (heard in [1]) is far from dull and it has inspired many poets, for example, John Milton and George Meredith:

John Milton: L'Allegro (lines 40-44)

 

To hear the lark begin his flight

And singing startle the dull night

From his watch-tower in the skies

Till the dappled dawn doth rise

George Meredith: The Lark Ascending 

(lines 1-4; 65-70: and 121-122):

He rises and begins to round,

He drops the silver chain of sound,

Of many links without a break,

In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake.

 

For singing till his heaven fills,

‘Tis love of earth that he instils,

And ever winging up and up,

Our valley is his golden cup

And he the wine which overflows

to lift us with him as he goes.

 

Till lost on his aërial rings

In light, and then the fancy sings. 

The lines from Milton stimulated Samuel Palmer to paint The Rising of the Skylark (shown below). As Milton’s lines suggest, the lark is high in the sky at dawn, being visible only as a speck identified by following the gaze of the human observer by the gate. It is an idyllic scene and its atmosphere owes something to Turner, recognised at that time for his genius in painting light. Palmer created this Romantic view in 1839 while he was based in Shoreham in Kent, with a house close to the River Darent. 

The valley of the Darent had a special significance for Palmer and it does for me, too, in a lesser way. Not, I’m afraid, for any artistic endeavours, but it was where I conducted experiments on aquatic insect larvae and I collected material from the chalk stream to work on in the laboratory. Having been very keen on Art History since undergraduate years, I always nodded at Palmer’s house when I arrived in Shoreham and parked next to the bridge by his house before starting my collection in the river. 

The quoted lines from George Meredith were inscribed on the manuscript of Ralph Vaughan Williams' The Lark Ascending, that shared its title with that of the poem. It was written just before the outbreak of the First World War, but didn’t receive its first performance in orchestral form until 1921. It has been recorded by many artists and a link to a recent performance is given below [2].

Vaughan Williams’ work was voted to be the most popular of all pieces of music by listeners to Desert Island Discs [3] and also placed first in Classic FM’s Hall of Fame [4]. That is not a surprise, as it has lyrical beauty and feels connected to British, and, more specifically, English folk music; a genre from which Vaughan Williams gained inspiration. Hearing this music in his head must a have been a solace to the composer as he served in both the Medical Corps and the Royal Artillery during the First World War, just as George Butterworth must have found comfort in recalling his lovely The Banks of Green Willow. That piece was also inspired by English folk tunes and was composed just before the war broke out, but, sadly, Butterworth was killed in the trenches [5]. Vaughan Williams survived, but he did suffer deafness from the noise of gunfire.

I love the works by Palmer and Vaughan Williams and their Romanticism touches a nerve with me. Given their popularity, it seems that I am not alone. The drab, but beautifully singing, skylark has been an inspiration for many other poets, painters and composers and I hope that we can do something to keep their numbers up, and even restore them to their earlier abundance. Skylarks inspire us, but we should remember that their song did not evolve for our benefit, but for theirs.

[1] https://www.rspb.org.uk/birds-and-wildlife/wildlife-guides/bird-a-z/skylark/

[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZR2JlDnT2l8&ab_channel=RichardBrittain 

[3] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p04qpmw9

[4] https://www.udiscovermusic.com/classical-features/vaughan-williams-lark-ascending/

[5] http://www.rwotton.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-banks-of-green-willow.html

My thanks to Alexander Wotton who was the (unknowing) catalyst for this article.

 

Palmer’s painting is held by the National Museum of Wales: https://museum.wales/art/online/?action=show_item&item=1436

The full poem L’Allegro by John Milton is available here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44731/lallegro

The full poem The Lark Ascending by George Meredith is available here: https://allpoetry.com/The-Lark-Ascending