Blackbirds, dunnocks and greenfinches have all started singing in the past week or two, but, for me, the chaffinch really signals the onset of spring. This week, a little later than in some years, they, too, have been joining the party. And with them there it really does sound like a party.

They have one of the most cheerful sounding of all British bird songs. It begins with a little run of chirpy notes, then the notes come louder and faster, and finally it breaks into a whirl that sounds as if the bird has turned head-over-heels. They repeat the song again and again. In the 19th century people gambled over which of their caged chaffinches would sing the most songs in a set period of time.

Chaffinches also look very fine as they sing, and as they generally perform on a low branch, and are not very shy, it is easy to watch them. It is the males that sing, and they are now in their spring plumage, with a powder-blue cap, a pink breast, a greenish lower back, and two conspicuous white wing bars. These males have now taken up their territories and they are flying around the boundaries making loud “pink-pink” calls, so that other chaffinches know precisely the limits they must not cross. Only the brown female chaffinches are allowed in and when the male has chosen one, the pair will defend the territory together. After that, another distinctive call, like a rapid trickle of water, will be heard everywhere. Nobody knows what its purpose is, but it may be a warning of danger from the male to the female, or perhaps a call to let her know where he is.

With all this vocalising, chaffinches become a noticeable presence in the countryside from now until July. They build their mossy nests in April, and bring up about four chicks. There are getting on for seven million pairs in Britain, which means that they are probably our second commonest breeding bird after the wren.