A grey sea below a grey sky. The visibility drops off past Swanage Bay – past Peveril Point about 6km away, Old Harry sits within a band of mist which obscures the usual view to Bournemouth and the Isle of Wight.
The sound of water rushing past Durlston head, as the tide flows in and fills the bay. Herring Gulls patrolling high above.
Adding a splash of colour to the otherwise dull morning - the beautiful pink blossom upon the winter-flowering Cherry, the first of the cheery yellow Primroses which scatter across Caravan Terrace, and a friendly Robin’s red breast, who swoops in close, singing upon the Blackthorn.
Dry stone walls coated in Feather Moss leads me down the coastal path to Durlston Head; Ivy, Herb Robert, and Harts Tongue Fern sprouting from the crevices
The wind picks up as I turn westward above the point. Tamarisk quivering with excitement. It adds to the chaos of the Guillemot’s already erratic flight: rapid wing beats and crash landings. Razorbills raft amongst their number on the water.
The Fulmars always appear unphased by the wind, spurred on if anything: confident looping flights to and from the cliffs, with 7 or 8 of these birds on the wing. A Shag passes carrying a stick in its bill, an early start for gathering nesting material.
I return up long steady climb of the Diagonal Path. The Gorse-covered slopes now decoarated with an abundance of yellow flowers. Further up the path, I count plenty of new Holm Oak saplings emerging from the scrub and slowly spreading their number westward.