Dawn breaks above the horizon but obscured by cloud. It alights the chalk slopes of Ballard down and Old Harry Rocks, but Durlston is shaded in grey. Standing out from the gloom, the shimmering Elm leaves, which have turned a brilliant autumnal yellow in this past week.
This colour is reflected on the Goldfinches wings, their golden feathers revealed as they flutter between the trees. You can just hear their gentle chirps over the rustling Holm Oak.
At the cliffs you’ll find the Herring Gulls soaring in the wind. Look out for the Greater Black-backed Gulls with their mightier wingspan. The darker back feathers a distinctive contrast to their white undersides. This is an example of a common camouflage across marine creatures which makes them less visible; against the sunlight from below, and darker sea from above.
The Guillemots have this same pattern but I can’t imagine it being useful when they so clumsily crash into the water. Peering through the dead Teasel stems and Wild Carrot, I see their cliff ledge is full. They huddle together like little penguins, sheltering from the choppy sea.
I too, turn in lee of the wind. Following the direction of the Woodpigeons which race overhead. I ascend through slopes scattered with the cheery Gorse blooms, which lend their coconut-scent to the breeze. Some kind of Thrush scampering along the path ahead of me, whilst Wren and Robin sound from the scrub.
Yellow flowers turn to orange berries as reach woodland, with its understorey of Stinking Iris in fruit. Crunching leaf litter alerts a Jay, who flashes its bright blue feathers as it swoops silently out of sight.
Along the road, I pause to appreciate the magenta-pink Spindle berries. The later-season, Japanese Spindle budding but not ripe. As I left work yesterday, a sighting of a Fox scampering into the hedge here – one bonus of the early dusk.