I arrive for this morning’s patrol to a patchwork sky, with a tantalising glow on the horizon that teases a better day ahead.
I immediately spot a charm of Goldfinch twittering atop the Sycamore outside the Learning Centre, the deciduous tree increasingly forlorn as this year’s leaves are scattered by the coastal winds.
Skirting the Centre, the wheezing contact call of a Dunnock emerges from the scrub in the Pond Area. A Blackbird is flushed by a passing runner, its frenetic alarm call an anxious rattle in the face of non-existent peril.
I briefly linger at the top of Lighthouse Road, taking in the Stonechats sat sentry on the Gorse, and the rollercoaster flight of a Pied Wagtail overhead.
Turning back, I head towards the castle, before detouring into the Holm Oak woodland. A Robin serenades me from a lichen-wreathed Hawthorn, while the berries of Stinking Iris glow orange in the sylvan gloom.
Wildlife here is heard more often than seen, with the garrulous screech of a Jay, the rasping squeeze of a Firecrest, the three-note refrain of a Great Tit and the fleeting call of a Bullfinch telling me I am surrounded by avian life.
Just off the track-side, a mass of Spectacular Rustgill has erupted from the root plate of a dead tree, while on closer inspection further fungal life in the form of Bracket Fungi has also infiltrated the upper branches of this ready source of nutrients.
Emerging on the Clifftop Trail, the gossamer wheeze of Goldcrest can be heard in the Gorse, from this spot a single clump of this resilient scrub displaying its coconut-scented yellow flowers.
A russet-backed Kestrel patrols the cliff-edge below me, while a trundling Buff-tailed Bumblebee seeks out what nectar sources remain.
As I reach the hairpin by the Lighthouse, a flock of Feral Pigeon power by, descendants of our messengers and companions, now denizens of Durlston’s cliffs, and prey for our resident Peregrines.
Wheeling and bickering Jackdaw haunt the cliff ahead of me, while in the sky beyond their larger cousins the Carrion Crows engage in dogfights with this year’s Herring Gulls.
The season is made clear in the shifting shades of the Tamarisk, the scrub’s Autumnal coat of flame emerging from its usual viridescence, while the White Poplar is looking increasingly threadbare, silvery foliage shed about the gravel of the South West Coast Path.