PENDLE Hill is always beautiful, even when there is mist shrouding its summit.

It is, however, at its best on a bright summer's day when it is the perfect hunting ground for the "twitcher" - the keen birdwatcher.

I set off around the foothills of Pendle on a bright spring morning with the fields seemingly full of lapwings, which are already incubating their eggs.

The courtship song of the curlew seemed to echo around the valley occupied by the villages of Roughlee and Newchurch.

We get rather spoiled in East Lancashire because we have hills, dales, rivers and the sea, all within easy driving distance. Every time I walk in the countryside nature comes up with a surprise. On a bright April morning I came across a couple of holly trees which were laden with red berries.

It was great to feel like it was Christmas but know that it was actually spring. This glorious sight proves that, although we did have some snow and frost, the winter was not too bad.

Hungry birds would have stripped every tree of every single berry if it had been.

I ate my lunch by the side of a trickling little brook but with me all day were the sounds of lapwing and curlew. I often used to wonder how it was that these two species could exist side by side without competing for food.

They are both members of the family of wading birds that includes the redshank, which also breeds and feeds around Pendle.

The reason why they do not compete for food is that they have bills of different lengths and shapes.

This means that when they dig into the mud or soil for food they each stab at different depths. Biologists say that each bird has its own feeding niche.

The more I discover about nature, the more it amazes me.

Pendle Hill has one special feature of spring.

During early May, a small flock of very rare birds passes through on migration.

These are dotterels, which are also members of the wading family.

The dotterel breeds on the high northern hills and was once quite common but it suffered because it is good to eat.

It is also very trusting and will allow humans to approach it very closely.

For this reason, old-time naturalists called it "The Fool of the Peat Moss."

As I made my way down from the slopes of Pendle, the curlew chorus and the lapwing lullaby continued and were joined by the soaring lyrics of the lark.

All this goes to show that there is nowt like Bonny Pendle in the spring.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.