Descending into the woodland, I can hear the rain lightly pattering on my hood and the bitter wind as it whistles through the trees. It feels like ice on my hands. 10mm fell since yesterday, leaving pools of water across the paths and mud squelching underfoot.
A couple of Blackbirds sing to one another from within the undergrowth, whilst Robins and Wrens seem to appear at every corner. Although the canopy is barren of deciduous tree leaves, Holm Oak leaves continue to fall year round, given a autumnal feel to a distinctly winter day.
As I turn onto the Diagonal path, the entire seascape is revealed. One by one, powerful sets of waves approach the cliffs. I stand in awe, watching each of them build into a humungous mass of water, or great wall by the time it’s ready to smash into the rocks.
Excited to see the Blow Hole, I quicken my pace to the bottom of the Gully to see the waves from Tilly Whim. Here, the white-water tumbles around like one great washing machine, and the air is filled with a constant mist of sea spray and occasional flying Kelp. Every few minutes a the sets align to create the angriest of waves which culminate in a thundering roar from the Blow Hole.
Out to sea, I watch Shags, Herring Gulls, and Black-backed Gulls pass by, ‘just another day in the office’ for them. The Guillemots and Razorbills have disappeared from the cliffs altogether, perhaps a final group outing, before the breeding season commences later this month.
Further along the clifftop, I spot a Rock Pipit, and a pair of Fulmars synchronised in flight. A large group of Jackdaws, (probably around 30 in number) fly playfully above the scrub, which is speckled with golden Gorse flowers.