What a difference a day makes... yesterday’s clear but breezy weather has been replaced by a markedly damper southerly, driving rain across the Channel and leaving roads and paths alike waterlogged ahead of this morning’s patrol.
Starting in the Learning Centre bird hide, the wind sends waves skittering across the pond, while the long-brown Buddleia whips back and forth.
The ever-stoic Song Thrush is just audible above the gusts, while a flock of Feral Rock Pigeons seem barely in control as they scud across the sky.
Descending to the Lighthouse track, the change in wind direction has done little to diminish the roar of the Holm Oak woodlands, the evergreen leafage creating a strong sail effect in contrast to the pliable sway of the leafless neighbouring Willow.
Beyond the writhing shelterbelt, a relative calm descends, damp vegetation dripping and busy with birdlife. A mob of Blue Tits chase through the Bramble thicket, while a Goldcrest delicately picks its way through the undergrowth, hunting for invertebrate prey.
Overlooking Caravan Terrace and the Castle, a Black Pine hangs precipitously above the undercliff, though with no sign of lifting in the root plate even in these blowy conditions, it will likely be with us a while longer.
Heading into the Pleasure Grounds along the Isle of Wight Road, a break in the tree line affords me an unobstructed view out across Durlston Bay.
Beyond the headland, a flock of Gannet, our largest native seabird, navigate the eddies with ease. Dwarfed by their neighbours, our resident Guillemots can be seen riding low to the water’s surface, skimming their way back towards their summer nesting ledge to rest after a morning’s fishing.
Returning to the Learning Centre, a brown shape rises and dips towards the scrub. Raising my binoculars, I’m delighted to see my first Redwing of the winter, a migratory thrush driven South and West each year as temperatures drop, and likely to linger given Durlston’s abundance of Hawthorn berries.