Storm Eunice has arrived at Durlston. People across the country brace themselves for ‘the worst storm of 30 years’ and the Council made the decision to close the park. Such a decision is not made lightly – having only been closed twice before; during the covid pandemic, and the foot & mouth outbreak..
It actually felt quite calm down in Swanage this morning, though the winds are meant to build throughout the morning. It definitely felt a bit more wild up at the park. Heavy winds batter the trees and howl through the hedgerows. The birds undoubtedly hunker down in the scrub, not that I’d be able to hear them anyway.
I stumble my way over the Lighthouse field and down into the gully. Here, in lee of Round Down, a welcome sense of calm. A Blue Tit hops around a Sycamore tree, and the chirps of a Chaffinch can be heard below the old bridge. Overhead, a Magpie passes towards the Lighthouse.
Eventually I find the Cows grazing in the very south-western corner of the field. I decide to jump the stile into the next field to check out a dry stone wall recently rebuilt by volunteers. At this point it began to hail, and I quickly became exposed to the full wrath of the wind. I walked facing the inside of my hood to avoid the little hailstone pummelling my face. I did see a slimy looking Fungus, but didn’t hang around to work out what it was.
I continue my walk along the coast path, stopping the marvel at the huge swell at Tilly Whim. Occasionally the waves align with the sea cave and pumps out through the blow hole in a huge eruption of spray. Unphased by messy sea state, a single Shag dips and dives amongst the surf.
Further along the clifftop, I could descry many Guillemots huddled in on their rocky ledge. Herring Gulls, Fulmars, and Razorbills battle with the winds, the latter of which struggling slightly, with their short little wings.