THIS coming Sunday is a day of celebration for this country, but one which has been largely forgotten or ignored by the modern population. It is Oak Apple Day, sometimes known as Restoration Day.

Well within living memory, the occasion was celebrated with special church services and other events, many of a very local nature. Oak Apple Day was a vivid reminder of the restoration of the monarchy on May 29, 1660. England had been a republic under the stern, austere and humourless control of the puritanical "warts and all" Oliver Cromwell.

He had poured many abuses on the people of this country and they yearned for the return of happy, fun-loving times under the charismatic Charles II.

After Charles' defeat at the Battle of Worcester, he fled and managed to hide from the soldiers of Cromwell's army by climbing an oak tree at Boscobel in Shropshire. It was September 1651 and he remained concealed in the tree as they hunted him below. His enemies failed to find him and so he survived to continue his claim for the throne by living and travelling on the Continent for nine years.

Friends overseas encouraged him to continue his long battle to regain the crown. He returned to England on May 26, 1660, landing at Dover, and headed for London to reclaim his crown.

He had three aims - not to go travelling again, to make himself the absolute monarch, and to restore Catholicism. To a jubilant and rapturous reception, he arrived in Whitehall, London, on May 29, 1660, as king and since that time, the day has been called Oak Apple Day in commemoration of his salvation thanks to the oak tree at Boscobel.

People took to wearing oak leaves, twigs and branches, or even sporting oak apples and acorns as a means of showing their pride in his return, and some houses were decorated with items taken from oak trees. In some areas, maypole dancing returned on May 29, having been banned by Cromwell's Puritans, but later this was transferred to its original date, May 1, which, for a time, became known as Ill Day or Evil Day, in memory of the Puritans' abuses.

Here in the North, sprigs of oak were worn by the people and this continued well within living memory.

I can recall attending primary school in the 1940s with an oak leaf in my lapel on Oak Apple Day and in many Yorkshire villages anyone not wearing an oak leaf or sprig could expect to be stung on their legs with nettles! Lads would pick bunches of stinging nettles and chase anyone not wearing a sprig of oak, and so this also became known as Nettle Day. That practice used to be common in Boroughbridge, Richmond, Northallerton and villages around the North York Moors, but the custom seems to have faded away since the end of the Second World War, although memories persist.

In some villages within the moors, people who did not wear oak on that day were smothered in powdered chalk, and so it was known as Chalky Back Day. Yorkshire children also expected a day off school on Oak Apple Day, and if they did not get it, they locked the teacher inside! They would then sing: "Royal Oak Day, Twenty ninth o' May, if thoo disn't gi' us a holiday, we'll all run away."

There were other similar celebrations around the country, usually with regional variations. In Derbyshire, for example, May 29 was known as Garland Day because garlands of flowers were carried through the Peak village of Castleton after the crowning of a garland king and queen. Pride of place was given to a huge frame bearing a bell-shaped garland and this was carried in procession around the pubs where it halted so that dances could be performed. I am sure some refreshment was obtained too, but the procession then ended at the church.

This celebration was previously held on May 1 but it is unclear whether it was moved to May 29 as a form of added celebration for Restoration Day.

Durham Cathedral also held a celebration each year on May 29, but this does not seem to be associated with the restoration. The cathedral choir sang an anthem on three sides of the tower - east, west and south - a custom said to date to the Battle of Neville's Cross in 1346.

King David of Scotland launched a surprise attack on the English and as the battle raged, with both the king and the Bishop of Durham out of the country, the English army, led by Ralph Neville, eventually defeated the advancing Scots.

During the battle, the cathedral's monks gathered on the tower to pray for victory, hence the choir's subsequent involvement. However, the choir did not sing on the north side because a chorister fell to his death from there.

Although that battle took place in October, these celebrations joined those associated with the restoration.

Today, Oak Apple Day is little more than a memory.

Those with bird feeders in the garden know the joy and entertainment which results from watching, at close quarters, the antics of our feathered visitors. But just add one bird bath and keep it full of water, then your entertainment will increase dramatically.

I speak from experience for as I sat in the spring sunshine enjoying an outdoor lunch, a family of baby blackbirds joined me, unworried by my presence. They have been around for a few days, the three youngsters now being the same size as their parents but identified because of their short tails and brown speckled plumage. Even though they can forage for themselves among our border flowers and shrubs, they continue to demand food from their parents, the male being the chief provider.

As we watch either from the patio or from indoors, he appears to be teaching skills required in their adult life. This morning, however, one chick appears to have vanished because only two arrived on the lawn, accompanied by dad who was clearly continuing his lessons in life.

This morning, it was bath time and fortunately I had cleaned and topped up the bird bath. He led the pair closer to the bath and then did a curious thing. As they stood on the lawn, he leapt into the air in front of one chick, then dropped to earth behind it. He did this several times, and then repeated the tactic with the second chick. I have no idea what he was trying to teach them, except it might have been a hint that he wanted them to jump up on to the side of the bath. They didn't. In fact, one flew away into the beech hedge, as if to say, "You're not getting me in there!"

And so dad flew on to the bath and set about a frantic demonstration of his bathing routine. The remaining chick was not at all impressed and so the session ended without either of the youngsters bathing.

Following that, they all disappeared into the shrubbery to continue foraging. And then a curious thing happened. A starling arrived at the bird bath and stood in the water as if contemplating whether or not to bathe. At this point, one of the baby blackbirds appeared out of the bushes and joined it, sitting on the side of the bath and demanding to be fed.

I don't know whether blackbirds are short-sighted but the starling ignored the chick's pleas and began a most vigorous bathing routine. The result was that the baby blackbird, sitting on the edge, was drenched in flying water but it didn't fly away. Instead, it continued to demand food as the water flew in all directions until it was thoroughly soaked.

Satisfied, the starling flew off leaving the bedraggled chick sitting there looking totally dejected, wet and miserable, and then it stepped into the bath. It stood for a few seconds and performed a very perfunctory splash - just one - and, after shaking itself, flew off.

It was rather like a cameo from human life. Parents sometimes have an awful task persuading youngsters to take a bath, but a stranger can often persuade them without any real difficulty, and without having to feed them.

There were two surprises in that small incident - first, the fact that a starling, regarded as not the cleanest of birds, should use our bird bath, and secondly, that a young blackbird should expect that starling to feed it