Last year I had a health scare. I say scare, but it was more like a bored old man was eating far too much and felt generally out of sorts. A new diet and exercise regimen got into me into the great outdoors and discovering the amazing scenery that the Pennines have to offer.

Despite living in Brontë country, the wild moors hold little interest. Don’t get me wrong — the scenery is breathtaking and the views awe-inspiring. But woodland is where I’m happiest.

I love to see the change of the seasons — not just the plant life, but also the animals. And that’s most prevalent in Spring and early Summer.

And like so many of a particular age, I’ve discovered the joys of the Merlin app, and have marvelled at the sheer volume and variety of feathered friends that live close by.

But my last couple of walks have been spookily quiet. I have become accustomed to the high-pitched chirps of Robins and Wrens and the low pitched warbles of Wood Pigeons.

But yesterday, I did a full hour and heard nothing. It was as if every bird had migrated. I saw some, but they just looked at me and scurried away.

I had noticed something previously in the Merlin app. It offered data on the birds it hears, and I noticed that one of them seemed to disappear around this time.

Further digging shows this to be what’s known as the summer silence.