Thick fog once again accompanied me as I took the early patrol, limiting visibility to less than 50 yards, the other sides of the fields not something that could be seen!
From the old quarry fields came the sound of the cows mooing, perhaps just checking where the family were in amongst the scrub and the fog.
A loud alarm call of a Blackbird came from ahead of me, the bird perched on the ends of the Blackthorn twigs. As I focussed in with my binoculars there was globules of water held on the end of the spikes – not yet ready to drip off!
The top of the downs was a very chilly place to be as there was a strong northerly wind blowing as well the thick fog! But here growing from one of the cow pats were two fungi – the small brown Penny Bun and a white one which I have yet to identify.
Around the lighthouse and down the slope a bird flitted, a flash of red as the tail moved up and down, this Black Redstart showing well as it moved around the rocks. Despite its name this bird wasn’t black, not being an adult male.
Perched really high up on the cliffs was a Peregrine Falcon, a dark grey back, fluffy striped chest and almost white bib. This bird was so close, almost within touching distance, and seemed very relaxed until a Raven floated past, uttering its low deep croak, at which point the Peregrine Falcon, took off and chased this much larger bird. The Raven twisted and turned taking shelter in a ledge on the cliffs
Rambling over the Hawthorn was a pile of Old Man’s Beard, the white wispy flower heads drenched in fog droplets.