I was enjoying the weak and late summer sun this morning as I leaned on the windowsill overlooking the Essex marshes, when I caught the sound of baying.

It took a minute to sink in. Then I realised they were back. The brent geese have arrived from Siberia and are pecking at the fat, dark green carpet of eel grass which has been growing throughout the summer on the mudflats of the estuary.

You never see them arrive and you never see them depart. It’s just that one day they are here and one day next year they will be gone. I know they arrived last night, however, as they were not here yesterday.

They are early. Some say that’s a sign of a hard winter.

We’ll see.