I’m a man on a mission on this morning’s patrol, aiming to hit the furthest western limits of the National Nature Reserve on my tree safety surveys.
As I arrive, sweeping clouds of hirundines (Swallows & Martins) fill the sky to the North of the Learning Centre, continuing to feast ahead of their migration, while a Jay flits into the cover of a Sycamore tree, distinctive white blazes on the wings flashing in the gloom.
A lisping single note call makes me hesitate at the top of Lighthouse Road, and after a cheating look at the Merlin app, I’m rewarded with a sighting of the mystery bird, the vanishingly rare Cirl Bunting, for many years only seen on a handful of sites in South Devon.
Perched on the Hawthorn, the bird continues to call, before cutting past me, a curiously compacted silhouette, like a horizontal teardrop in flight.
Monotonous cronking heralds the arrival of one of our resident Ravens, who alights atop a mile marker, continuing to contact call to its distant mate.
As I traverse the Reserve along the Herston Trail, charms of Goldfinch and flocks of Linnet sweep across the grey sky.
Drawing parallel with the lighthouse, a pair of Stonechat stand sentry on the Gorse, this year’s youngster emulating the adult male’s fastidious defence of his ‘patch’.
As I reach Field 3, bare-topped anthills are sprinkled with the pellets of Rabbits, territorial markers by these increasingly uncommon rodents at Durlston.
The western reaches of the National Nature Reserve present a different aspect to the more sheltered areas near the Castle. Exposed to the full force of the winter Sou’westerlies, flora and fauna alike take advantage of the shelter afforded by the undulating quarry waste of yesteryear, depressions full of protective Bramble and Hawthorn.
Returning East and descending to the bottom of Lighthouse Road, I catch a fleeting glimpse of a Buzzard gliding up the Gully, clearly seeking an easy breakfast from the wealth of passerine birds that shelter within.
Ascending once more to the Learning Centre, our neighbourhood murder of Carrion Crows are in their usual spot, lurking about the picnic benches looking for the remnants of visitor’s lunches.
Worth looking out for are their leucistic tails and wings, select feathers lacking their usual pigment, and so a distinctive white amidst their uniform black plumage.