I slowed my drive into work this morning with the heavy rain hammering down, but noting the bright blue skies moving swiftly in from the West. Its dry as I enter through the two four-meter high oak posts; fit for an entrance to Jurassic park.
The winterbourne stream is in full flow; the watershed converging at this point. It meanders its way under the Euonymous, and Laurel, both of which have sprouted small green berries. The Holly of course is already decorated, with bright red fruits.
I follow the trail of fallen Acorns to the bridge, where the seascape is revealed through the Sycamore. Calmer in the bay, but with white horses rearing their heads at the tidal races off Peveril Point. A Roe Deer watches on from the undergrowth.
I decide to continue my walk right down into the bay. Here, the coast path gets a little precarious, with the steps sinking into the clay of an old landslip. But I am rewarded with sightings of passing Blue, Great, and Long-tailed Tits, as they cross between the sections of woodland, divided by the slip.
Robins also appear to chirp from every direction, and a charm of Goldfinch pass overhead. Next, a Firecrest makes itself known; whistling from the thicket of Willow and Bramble. Suddenly the tiny bird appears, with the distinctive orange flame upon its head. Regarding me, it whistles again, before disappearing in flight.
At Zigzag, I leave the path for the slippery slopes, and towards the building sound of crashing waves. This final section is even more tricky underfoot, and I find myself relying upon fortuitously placed rocks, tree roots and tufts of grass, to aid my descent.
It’s high tide. Flow. A Shag dips between the sunlit wave crests. Ebb. The rumbling pebbles retreat into the sea. Lovely day for a dip. Storm Ciaran has pushed a good number of plastic bottles and other bits of flotsam and jetsam high up the strandline. I make a note to come back and collect it all.