I begin my walk following the winding road to the Lighthouse: It stands out in the distance, bright white walls reflecting the light of the low Sun. Robins and Stonechats warble from the Gorse. I can see a few walkers and climbers already out hiking along the coast path, and many Crows sit along the telegraph wires.
Above the path I find a collection of Field Mushrooms. Beads of dew covering each cap, and the grass speckled with Red Clover, still in flower. I decide to forage the largest one, probably 15cm in diameter. It pulls away with ease and reveals a perfectly intact skirt and fresh pink gills underneath.
There’s creaking in the adjacent field where the fluffy reddish-brown Hereford Cattle move through the scrub. No spiky Blackthorn or Hawthorn will stand in the way of these hungry mouths getting to the Ivy. With the gates closed and cows on the right side of the wall, I don’t bother trying to count them, being so hidden amongst the vegetation.
At the bridge, the gully below is ringing with activity. Lots of chatter from Great Tit, Robin, Chaffinch, and I even hear a Bullfinch at one point. Melodious song from a Blackbird also nearby. A flock of Goldfinch arrive and land silently upon the leafless Sycamore; their little red faces now adorning it like the Bryony berries below. They move on and replaced by flock if noisy Jackdaw. Above, flocks of passing Woodpigeons, just 4 or 5 in number at a time.
Since dawn, the volunteer bird ringers have been in: catching and recording each bird’s species, age, sex, wing length and weight. All ‘new’ birds have a small loose ring attached to a leg, whilst the codes from pre-ringed birds are noted down and looked up later to see where and when the bird was last recorded.
They report a good morning for Long-tailed Tits - some 20 in number, Goldcrest, Firecrest, Goldfinch, and whilst I’m there a beautiful rose-chested Lesser Redpoll is pulled from a bag. It sits calmly between his fingers with a brilliant red cap upon its head.