A bright dawn rises over Durlston Head as I approach work along the Kingston Road, the scattered high cloud cast in shades of blues, purples and oranges.
On arrival in the Country Park, I’m greeted by the strident burbling of a Song Thrush. Beyond this, the Learning Centre wildlife area is unusually quiet, the only movement the shivering surface of the pond.
Moving on, I pass into Saxon Field, detouring to check on our Hereford Cattle, who uniformly face into the fresh Northerly breeze as they graze, perhaps an instinctual means of minimising wind chill. Above them, a Herring Gull rides the same frigid zephyr, alert to morsels disturbed by the cattle’s movements.
Within the dense Hawthorn scrub of the compartment, I hear the muffled tinkle of a Goldcrest, insulated from the cold by the dense vegetation and with no short supply of invertebrates to feed on.
A watchful Magpie sits sentinel atop a bare Sycamore, tracking my progress, and as I reach the far side of Saxon, and duet of alarm rattles from two of these corvids informs any listening wildlife of my presence.
The click of the gate latch provokes a similar call from a nearby Blackbird.
Reaching the relative shelter of the Drove Road, an abundance of Haw berries remains, vital sustenance for Durlston’s wildlife in the barren months to come.
I veer south into Centenary Field. Pausing by the trough, a crop of flowering Wintercress is an incongruous splash of yellow, taking advantage of the damp and sheltered conditions.
I pause as I hear furtive rustlings at the base of the drystone wall. Expecting to see some small mammal emerge, I instead hear a repetitive contact call, and a Dunnock extricates itself from the tangle, alighting atop a Blackthorn stem, framed by the lush green of Stinking Iris.
Reaching the Herston Trail above the Gully, the alarm calls of Chaffinch, Robin and Blackbird emerge from below, while Woodpigeon power their way up and down the post-glacial cutting.
A twittering charm of Goldfinch pass overhead. I end up shadowing the flock back East, pausing to observe these smart-coated finches feeding on the heads of last summer’s Thistles, before being distracted by a personal favourite, a male Stonechat perching proudly atop a dry Thistle stem.