A COUPLE of hours before settling down to write these notes, I walked through the grounds of our local abbey. It was a bright, sunny April morning and the mighty bell was booming to summon the monks to mass. As I walked, I could see them emerging from their monastic quarters to hurry into the abbey church while the life of others such as myself continued around them.

One such person was a shepherd, whose sheep and lambs fill the abbey's grazing pastures. The symbolism did not escape me as I continued along the lane between two fields full of ewes and their lambs.

As I approached, many of the adults began to bleat and baa, thinking I was bringing them some food, and then the lambs joined the chorus with their own distinctive voices. The lambs became excited, rather like children expecting treats at a party, and several jumped into the air in their distinctive manner.

But I had no food for them. Their nutrients and a fresh supply of hay had already arrived and soon they realised I was not another bringer of food. They returned to their munching and milk, with mothers fussing over their lambs as they began the long session of teaching their youngsters the ways of the world.

On previous mornings, I have followed this route as the sheep and lambs were settling down to their morning treats and it was wonderful to see how the lambs, at both sides of that lane, separated themselves from their mothers during the feeding. Many dozens of lambs were in one part of each field while the ewes were in another - just like a crowd of adult humans and children at a large party.

Most of the lambs were twins, although I believe I spotted a set of triplets and a few singletons, but all wore large red numbers on their fleeces to correspond with a like figure upon their mother.

There is no doubt that lambs can recognise their own mothers, and that mothers know their lambs, but mere humans do not have that skill. Hence the numbering system.

All around me, daffodils were blooming and the hedgerows were sprouting their new greenery; birds were singing, a flock of rooks was cawing in the nearby woods and I spotted a heron flapping lazily along the route of the beck in the dale.

As I walked towards my home to prepare these notes, I passed a villager who greeted me with: "By, it's grand, isn't it? Spring, I mean. It makes you think there's a lot of good things waiting for us, new life, fresh beginnings and such.

You forget the troubles of the world and the behaviour of this daft Government of ours."

"Aye," I said, agreeing with him while appreciating his simple philosophy ONE of the fascinations of recent days was to watch a pair of tree sparrows trying to squeeze into a blue tit's nest box. We have two blue tits' nest boxes on our garage, each bearing a small opening that is just the right size to admit blue tits but few other birds. Larger birds like robins and great tits cannot gain entry, and the tiny entrance also serves to protect the chicks against predators.

House sparrows have attempted to gain entry while seeking nesting sites, but this was the first time I have seen tree sparrows attempting to become squatters. We have enjoyed the presence of a pair of tree sparrows for some months and they have become regular visitors to our seed container, being agile enough to feed from it in the same way as great tits and blue tits. Their cousins, the house sparrows, lack that agility and feed from the ground. Tree sparrows are slightly smaller than their cousins.

The population of tree sparrows tends to fluctuate and suddenly, after a seemingly large number of them in an area, they vanish for no known reason. It seems that this year is one of those times when tree sparrows are numerous for this pair has been visiting our garden for several months. They are very much like house sparrows in appearance, except that they have a warm brown cap on their heads and that is their main distinguishing feature.

For their nests, tree sparrows like to make use of holes in walls and trees, and they will make use of nest boxes, provided the entrance is large enough.

We do have such a box in our garden - it was used by robins last year - but it seems the tree sparrows have ignored it in favour of another site. The other afternoon, I watched a male and female trying to gain entry to the tits' box while a pair of anxious blue tits watched from a nearby cherry tree.

One of the tree sparrows - and I couldn't distinguish the male from the female - attempted to squeeze through the tiny entrance hole, something I thought was impossible.

However, it persisted and I was amazed to see it disappear into the darkness of that little box.

Its mate sat on a nearby twig and watched, then decided to join the fun.

But that partner could not squeeze through the hole and eventually gave up. The next problem, of course, was for the victor to get out of the box and I watched as its face appeared at the entrance hole, almost pleading for help. I considered removing the box and taking off its roof if the bird was truly imprisoned but with one massive final push, it emerged.

For a few seconds, both sat in the cherry tree, doubtless discussing their adventure, and then flew off.

They have returned to the bird feeder but I've never seen the tree sparrows attempt another squatting routine. As I write these words, blue tits are once again examining the box as a potential site but I do not know where the tree sparrows will be nesting. Perhaps they will find an old house sparrow's nest - although the house sparrows will, I am sure, defend their nesting site even against their own house-hunting cousins.

BADGER lovers will be dismayed by the news that a cull of these animals, sometimes known as the most ancient of Britons, has been announced in an area of Wales. The precise area has not been revealed but it means that such culls could spread to the rest of the country.

No-one likes to see badgers killed (except badger baiters) and these curious but distinctive creatures have no known predators, except for human beings.

The reason is the link between badgers and bovine tuberculosis.

In 1971, a dead badger was found to contain the bacteria that cause this disease in cattle. The lungs and kidneys become affected which means a badger can spread the disease through its droppings, urine and even its breath. Since then, arguments have raged as to whether badgers infect the cattle, or whether cattle infect badgers.

The widespread infection of cattle in Wales, with the resultant slaughter of entire herds, led to demands for a cull of badgers which were blamed for spreading the disease.

Nonetheless, conservationists believe that a cull of badgers will do nothing to prevent the spread of bovine tuberculosis and in June last year, the Government's own independent scientific group on cattle TB stated that a cull of wild animals would make no meaningful contribution to controlling the disease in cattle.

A cull in Wales has led to similar calls from English farmers but the question of the badger's involvement in spreading the disease will always been open to doubt. It is claimed a cull could lead to all badgers being free of the disease, leading to healthy badgers and healthy cattle.