I begin my morning patrol of the park, by walking out towards the meadows, and listening to the continuous ‘dwee-dwee’ from the Chiffchaffs. The call is echoed between the birds, bouncing between the hedges, where the birds hide out of sight.
As I walk into South Field, a couple of Carrion Crows caw from a large Ash Tree above, and about 20 or so Goldfinch fly overhead. The Hereford Cows at happily grazing the meadow, mowing the dry yellow grasses down to a short, munched turf.
A magnificent sea view opens up to my right, with the bright chalk-white cliffs of Ballard Down and Old Harry Rocks beyond the large Black Pines of the Large Copse. A good number of Meadow Pipit flock past these trees, inter-mixed with the aerobatic Swifts.
The Blackthorn leaves have began to yellow, as the plant focuses its energy on growing great swathes of blue Sloes. The spiky scrub is intertwined by Brambles, and capped by the flowering Old Man’s Beard which scrambles over the top. The lowest Blackberries have been ransacked by humans and cows alike, leaving just the juiciest berries at the very top.
I loop round past a cattle trough to find two cock Pheasants springing out in a frenzy of fright. With a rapid beating of the wings, the birds fly directly up, erupting into their characteristic cackle of a call, and disappearing over the dry stone wall.