The morning emerges as one of quiet air and uninterrupted cloud as I arrive for my morning patrol.
Emanating from the dense scrub of the Learning Centre’s pond area, the unusual call of Crossbill can be heard.
While numerous of these distinctive little birds have been reported at Durlston recently, it later transpires that I’m in fact hearing the recorded calls used by our dedicated bird ringing team to lure in the real thing, allowing for the collection of invaluable biological data.
I pause at a field gate to see the Hereford cattle quietly feeding in South Field, shadowed by a chattering of five Magpie - perhaps some silver is headed my way later today?
Heading North, the Scots Pine needles carpeting the path through Large Copse have been upturned by a night of industry from foraging Badgers, seeking invertebrates in the dense litter.
Emerging into Taskers Meadow, the sky is full of hundreds of Swallows and Martins, languidly drifting on the still air to feed - could this be the final rearguard of summer?
Entering Saxon Field, a Kestrel is quartering the field for small mammals, determined bursts of wing-beats interspersed by the iconic hovering the species is renowned for.
A second falcon moves to the South-West, this one being mobbed by a Carrion Crow.
At my feet, I spot a scattering of white in the grass sward, florets of Yarrow and Field Mushrooms bursting from the soil.
As I leave Saxon and pass into Ox-Eye, the liquid warbling of Robin is heavy in the hedgeline.
Spilling out of an ancient quarry delving, the bright red berries of the non-native Cotoneaster seem to be in direct competition with the richer ruby tones of the Hawthorn.
I pause above the Gully, and as ever, patience is rewarded by observation of the quiet but insistent foraging and flitting of Chiffchaff, Wren, Long-tailed Tit and Chaffinch in the dense jungle of this meltwater-carved valley.