On arrival in the park, I was greeted by an unusually calm day for the season, just a faint breeze provoking a susurrus in the meadows and trees, and the air wonderfully cool and crisp.
My morning patrol was somewhat stymied by the more pressing need to return a recalcitrant Hereford calf to its mother.
Accompanying Rangers Hannah and Jason, we escort the cow into Saxon field, the lowing of the parent animal intended to lure the reluctant young from its hiding place in the dense Hawthorn and Blackthorn scrub.
As I make my way across the field in an attempt to encircle the pair, I disturb a Meadow Pipit from its resting place among the tussocked grasses, the small speckled bird flitting away across the field.
Parent and child reunited with both each other and the wider herd in Field 34, I head out to complete my patrol.
Pressed for time, I dip into the Learning Centre bird hide to see what species are being drawn in by the feeders, lovingly maintained by the Allsort’d team.
The ubiquitous Blue Tits and Great Tits are making regular forays for seed, as a skulking Dunnock cleans up fallen scraps below.
All the while, a juvenile Goldfinch sits sentry in the Buddleia, its face not yet manifesting the full striking red of adulthood.
Leaving the hide and skirting the Learning Centre, I’m shadowed by the alarm rattle of a Wren, invisible in the Dogwood but clearly aware of my presence.
Emerging out onto the hillside above the Anvil Point, I scan the slopes for the large number of Stonechats visible on Monday’s Birdwatching for Beginners walk.
None are seen now, but a huge mixed flock of Swallows and House Martins mass around the lighthouse telephone wires, at a distance their mutual pale bellies flashing in the sunlight like the waters of the tidal race beyond.