MY BLACK labrador has an alarm clock in her head. She has got used to a six o’clock start, whatever the weather.

As I dressed and looked out of my window it was still dark. There was a heavy frost covering the ground and I went out into a cold breezy morning.

The dog picked up his ears and even I could hear a barking coughing noise and also a high pitched scream. The coughing sound was made by a roe deer, and the scream was a vixen fox calling up her mate.

It is from early February that the fox begins its mating ritual. This makes sense, because young foxes are born in the early spring.

This gives them time to learn how to hunt for themselves during the warmer days of summer and autumn before they have to cope with wintry conditions.

I got back home to a brew and a warm fire by just after seven, and at eight o’clock had a phone call from a friend in the Lake District who knew that I was, like him, always up early.

Where he was, the snow was falling, but he had been out with his labrador.

Like all of this breed, his dog was crackers and went for a swim in the river.

On the way home it was still dark, but he heard a whistling sound which he knew was the sound of a courting otter.

Like the fox, the otter begins its breeding season early and for the same reason. When I can enjoy nature in the dark, I give thanks to my labrador who gives me an early morning call.

Birds signal start of spring

During a gap in the wintry weather I headed for the coast and strolled along the old disused railway track near Glasson Dock.

I have mentioned in this column several times in recent weeks just how good birds are at predicting the weather.

The date of this walk was February 3, 2013 and the first thing that I saw was more than 15 herons, all in one field, and standing like statues. Other birds were flying in.

The herons were actually catching moles which had emerged from the ground which was saturated with water. Creatures which spend most of their time underground have been struggling all through 2012, and with more snow being forecast, things are not likely to improve.

This area is part of the Lune estuary and there were lots of lapwings and curlews to be seen.

February is the month when both these species start to head up into our East Lancashire hills in preparation for the breeding season, but they do not start this move until there is at least some sign of spring weather .

To quote the old song for the birds: “Spring will be a little late this year.”

Fascinating life cycle of the eel

Just after Christmas I was visited by some Danish friends who, as usual, brought us a food parcel with lots of lovely preserved fish.

I have got used to pickled herring, but there was also an eel. I had never eaten eel before but I really enjoyed it.

At one time this fish was so common that it made up the staple food of many people.

These days the number of eels has declined and no fish has a stranger life cycle which has not been unravelled until recent times.

Eels spawn in the Atlantic Ocean to the south east of Bermuda in a region known as the Sargasso Sea. Even with all the technology that we have, spawning eels are rarely seen.

What is known is that the larvae produced, drift on the gulf stream and arrive at the estuaries of European rivers. By that time they look like small eels and are called elvers. They then move into the rivers and they scavenge for food and eat fish and as they get busy, some even grab hold of fish.

Mature eels vary in size but the males are usually smaller. They can weigh up to 28 pounds (14 kilograms) but most are usually much smaller. Nobody knows for sure how long they remain in fresh water, but for a period in excess of 10 years seems to be certain.

When they are sexually mature the eels leave our rivers and make the long journey back to the Sargasso Sea.

Then they breed and die, with the life cycle beginning again as the young return to our rivers.