Wandering through my local woods last spring, my gaze was caught by jerky movements on the trunk of a large sycamore tree. As I focused in, I was delighted to see a treecreeper living up to its name. Appearing more like a mouse than a bird, the treecreeper spirals up tree trunks, using its downward-curved beak to probe crevices in the bark for insects, before flying down to the base of a nearby tree to begin another ascent.

While not an uncommon bird – the UK is home to more than 200,000 pairs – treecreepers are always a special sighting, and this was my first time seeing one in these woods. This made it all the more remarkable to spot one on the same tree a few days later. My suspicion of a nearby nest was finally confirmed when I later saw it climbing the bark with a feather in its beak.

Treecreepers nest behind loose bark or in other cavities, and the thick stems of ivy snaking around this sycamore trunk provided the perfect cover. While the nest itself was hidden from view, I spent my pre-work mornings over the following month at a respectful distance, deducing what may be taking place in the concealed crevice.

Beakfuls of feathers and hair were soon replaced by spiders and caterpillars, as the male brought back dinner for its partner faithfully incubating the eggs. Two weeks later, both Mr and Mrs were on the hunt, returning to the nest every few minutes – a sure sign that there were now half a dozen new mouths to feed!

I diligently did my research and learned that treecreeper chicks fledge 15 days after hatching. I continued staking out the nest and counted down the days in anticipation, anxious that I’d miss the precious sight of newly emerged fledgelings. While treecreeper calls are characteristically high-pitched and reedy, the sound of incessant squeaking on an evening visit two weeks later told me that the moment had arrived.

It took a while to locate the source of the squeaks, as the barred-brown backs of the treecreeper provide perfect camouflage against the trunk. Eventually spotting two young birds vulnerably nestled high up in the tree, it hit home how crucial this deciduous disguise is against the hungry eyes of potential predators. I spotted another chick lower down, tentatively climbing to join its siblings.

Over the next few days I watched the huddle of five baby birds squeak excitedly as the parents dropped by with food parcels. On one occasion, an over-zealous parent shoved a spider with a large, juicy abdomen down a chick’s beak, and I held my breath as it seemed to be choking. Even the parent appeared panicked as it made desperate attempts to intervene – whether to pry it out or shove it further I couldn’t tell. Eventually it made it down the hatch.

As the days passed, I discovered the chicks on different trees - their squeaks a surround sound in the woods - and gradually fewer in number, before one day I arrived to find none. Whether they had flown to new pastures or been picked off by a hungry hawk, I’ll never know. But it was a deep privilege to witness the treecreeper family’s journey into this world, and an experience that will stay with me.

Now that we’re once again in spring, I’m spending more time in the woods than ever, hopeful for a glimpse of a robin, a wren, or perhaps another treecreeper, with a twig or feather brandished in its beak.

We have wonderful woodlands across our three counties. Why not spend some time exploring them this season? There’s always a springtime surprise in store.

Find a nature reserve near you