Here comes the sun – and the midges

Hambleton, Rutland: Along a sheltered shore above the footpath, thousands fly in a rolling and jostling cloud
Catkins on a hazel tree
Catkins on a hazel tree, where they dangle like tiny, dull-yellow lambs tails. Photograph: Peter Eastland/Alamy

A sunny day! It feels like the first fair weather day since Christmas. Warm, no rain, a gentle breeze and an azure sky adorned with cotton wool clouds. Hikers, dog walkers, runners, cyclists and birdwatchers are out in force, reclaiming the countryside from the deluge, or more likely escaping the inflicted confines of home, office, car, repeat ad nauseam.

England largest reservoir is full, if not yet brimming. When Rutland Water first filled in 1975, the village of Hambleton was marooned on a finger of raised land surrounded by water. Small, frequent waves lap musically on the shingle and washed-up berms of waterweed along the south facing shore.

It's not just the people who are making the most of the weather; the birds are also making hay, the jackdaws foraging in the horse pasture, the coots, great crested grebes and goldeneye diving in the bays. Are they, like us, relieved at this welcome, but brief, window in low pressure systems? The wind must have been a considerable nuisance, but perhaps less of a hindrance to survival than snow and ice?

Hambleton Wood is a mix of mature oak and hazel coppice. Many of the coppice stools are wide, with dozens of vigorous straight poles. Their catkins are dangling like tiny, dull-yellow lambs tails. The ground is covered in rolled, curled, crisp hazel leafs. The dark russet carpet punctured by shining green tufts of emerging bluebell leaves.

Along a sheltered shore above the footpath, thousands of chironomid midges fly in a rolling and jostling cloud. I grab one for a closer look. It is a smart wee beastie, pitch black with a 10mm stiletto-thin body, magnificent, bushy plumes for antennae and soft milky wings. It is a male; the huge antennae are a giveaway, but almost all the midges in the cloud will be male. The cloud is the place where males put on a performance and hope to be picked out by a female, on the basis of some criteria or achievements unknown to us, a lek in technical parlance.