Every step squelches into sodden ground as I walk through the meadows this morning. The fields looking quite drab in the low light and cloudy start to the day. Bright orange berries of Stinking Iris provide a welcome of colour amongst the yellowed grass tussocks, bare Blackthorn thickets, and dead heads of Knapweed.
A charm of Goldfinches fly overhead past the Mile Markers, and I catch sight of Dunnock near the old Quarr. In the Gully, some ruby-red Rosehips confused me as they interlope around the branches an Ash Tree, giving it the appearance of bearing these red fruit. Not many of these berries remain, most of them likely ransacked by birds scavenging the last of the autumn harvest.
The low sun reflects bright yellow on the choppy waters at Tilly Whim. Waves roll through the crests, each of them swelling into a great mass of water as it approaches the land. They smash into the lower ledge, ricochet off the rocks, and erupt into the air. A little Rock Pipit hops around in the splash zone, completely unphased by the dramatic scenes.
Woodpigeons are the real star of the show today. I watched twenty to thirty birds flying in unison like an airborne school of fish. The shoal floats around from left to right as they swoop and soar. Each bird copies every slight movement of its nearest neighbours, so that any change in motion spreads through the entire flock and they fly together as one.
I follow the coastal path back towards the Castle, catching sight of a Black Redstart amongst some Gorse. The Guillemots have returned in mass to their ledges; they stand huddled together whilst one or two birds occasionally leaves the pack and heads out to sea. Above the ledges, the ever-watching eyes of a Peregrine can be seen scanning along the coastline.