Calling all Devon and Somerset fans of a capella singing!

Last night, the St Petersburg Blagovest Ensemble sung an enchanting concert at St Peter and St Paul - our Parish Church here in Uplyme. A packed house gave them a rousing welcome, and they gave a masterful performance of both Russian Orthodox church music, and in the second half, folk songs. I thought they were quite exceptional - the operatic power and control of all six different voices was really something to hear. (Soprano, second soprano, mezzo-soprano, tenor, baritone and bass.) Also a chance to hear a musical genre rather different from my usual fare (and have a quick drink in the local afterwards!).

If you live in Great Torrington (Tuesday) , Silverton (Wednesday), or Martock (Thursday) - hurry along to your local church for a real treat.

Today, and a few days ago, I have seen a pair of yellowhammers feeding on the seeds I put out. The first visit to my garden - which is nice.

I always associate them with winter, when twittering flocks of them can be seen in the trees, decorating them like tiny gold Christmas ornaments in the late winter sun.

Many people are keen on the larger and more spectacular British birds - but I love the tiny ones. Finches are a really colourful family - from the perky pink and blue-grey chaffinch, the striking red, gold, black and white of the goldfinch, the rather thuggish-looking olive greefinch, to the lovely yellowhammer. The cock bird has a brilliant yellow head and belly, and a rich chestnut back with dark splashes, and a distinctive white stripe in the tail.

Yesterday I was rather amused to see a baby blackbird begging for food from a robin and a sparrow that were feeding from the same pile of seeds and porridge oats in the garden. One of those "if only I had the camera" moments: a big black bird with its bright orange bill wide open, bowing to two tiny 'parents'. I suppose the instinct to ask for food must be much stronger than any visual signals that might make the chick behave differently.

I'm surprised that a brood has already hatched successfully - it seems awfully early. Or do adults beg for food?

Yesterday, cabin fever overtook me after too many days staring at the computer screen, and I thought "blow this for a game of soldiers". I took the day off, and we went to Dartmoor on a gloriously sunny day. I chose a new place to visit, near Meldon.

Meldon Woods are a glorious sight just now - acres of bluebells in a hazel and beech wood on the valley slopes. Quite magical. (But you cannot hear the 40 ton stone lorries rumbling along the road from Meldon Quarry!)

Black-a-Tor Copse is a rare relict upland oakwood, which could easily be inhabited by hobbits. As well as the subtle ochre of new oakleaves, there are lots of mossy boulders to admire. These brought a Zen garden to mind, and I chose a subdued colour palette to draw attention to the shapes. Perfect peace here - only the distant sound of a cuckoo,
bleating sheep, and the wind in the trees.

A perfect end to a perfect day: old-fashioned tea in the courtyard, at the Victorian tearooms in the Okehampton Museum of Rural Life. A soft-boiled egg with white bread and butter, a slice of home made jam sponge, and lashings of strong tea.