Mellifluous bird song beckons me into the woods; a Blackbird’s fluted tunes echoing through the trees. Charming whistles from Robin and Great Tit sing alongside, chiming into the morning’s dawn chorus.
A steady flow of water through the stream where the weekend’s rain continues to drain down the valley. It meanders below the leafy Holly and Cherry Laurel, which are each decorated with ruby red berries.
A sequence of Long-tailed Tits follow the water. Flitting through the budding Elder, pausing by the yellowing Mahonia crowns, and continuing towards the outfall at Durlston Bay.
Evergreen branches of Holm Oak quiver and rustle. The commotion provides the perfect cover for a shy Jay who swoops silently between the branches. Only revealed only by a quick flash of its iridescent blue feathers. Peering up through a break in the canopy, a charm of Goldfinch, tweeting as they float overhead.
I head westward to the exposed clifftop path, with winds gusting a 50mph, and carrying huge swells in from the Atlantic. The sun breaks alighting the whitewater which smashes into the cliffs, explodes out from each crevice, and tumbles back from the rocks.
Black silhouettes of Jackdaw and Shag contrast in the light. Even the lighter grey feathered Fulmar and Herring Gull stand out, with the dainty Rock Pipits fluttering closeby.
Impressive Gannet wingspans can be seen dancing out towards the horizon, and I catch a glimpse of a determined Peregrine Falcon racing past.
I head to the Tilly Whim ledges to watch the fury of the blowhole erupt. It roars after each wave funnels into the sea cave, and then bursts as a plume of water towards the sky.