A cool yet calm start to the day, still damp with the morning dew. My boots soak through as I wander through the sodden meadows. Gate latches drip, and cobwebs droop, heavy with condensation.
The hedges squeak with the chatter of Goldfinch, and a Wren calls out from within. Beautiful bright red fruits of Rosehips and Bryony shine through the otherwise dull thicket of barren Blackthorn. Ahead of me, a Robin stands alert in trepidation, where a large Field Mushroom with has just poked its cap through the saturated grass.
I wander along the coastal path and reach the clifftop trail. At the entrance to Tilly Whim, I peer over the wall, my eyes following the steps down into the gloomy cave. To my surprise, I see something flitting around in the darkness. I thought for a second if it could be a Bat, until it flew upwards and perched atop the rusty bodged gate. Grey feathers with a black face. It bobs its tail to reveal an underside of warm amber coloured feathers. The little Black Redstart does one more loop inside the cave, before returning to daylight and flying off into the Gorse.
The Guillemots can be heard, before they can be seen. At least a hundred of them squark and jeer as they huddle on the usual ledges. Small numbers have splintered off from the main group and float in rafts below. Nearby, a Shag primps and preens its feathers, occasionally slapping its lofty wings on the calm waters surface. Splosh, splosh, splosh…
As I approach the Observation Point, I notice a Peregrine Falcon perched on a rocky outcrop. This promontory giving the bird 180 degree views from East to West along the cliffs. Two large Greater Black-backed Gulls fly past in close proximity, but the falcon is unphased, and continues to glance from left to right along the coast.