Storm Arwen may not have caused too much damage here at Durlston but it has certainly blown most of the leaves off of the trees. The canopies of Ash, Sycamore, and Elm stand bare, whilst their sheltered lower branches cling on to what’s left.
Beech, Hazel, and Oak are more reluctant to let go. Their leaves have all turned a bright yellow as the green chlorophyll pigments are broken down and the yellow carotenoid and flavonoid pigments come to surface.
The disposed leaves crunch and rustle as I walk through the aviary glade. The calls of Magpie, Jay, and Crow can be heard all around Sunnydale as they clamber high up in the trees. The evergreen foliage of Holm Oak, Holly, and Privet still provide cover for the smaller birds. A little Wren chitters amongst the undergrowth and a Great Tit chirps somewhere out of sight.
It’s just past high tide in Durlston Bay. The small waves lazily lap the shore, but have still churned out a strandline of Kelp overnight. Between the well-rounded pebbles and great slabs of limestone, there are fronds of Sea Oak and Cock’s Comb too.
An old lobster pot, covered in Barnacles, has been hurled up the shore to the base of the landslip. I wonder if the person gave up at the thought of lugging it up through the slippery trodden trails. The paths criss-cross once another, diverging and converging as people scramble to find the easiest route. This morning I even found a single trainer filled with clay.
A single Gull flies along the shore. It draws my attention to two large birds soaring high above the bay. The pair of Buzzards float around in circles, lofty wings spread wide, as they gain lift on the thermals in the air.