After a decidedly damp Birds of Poole Harbour trip yesterday, rewarding me with views of Great Northern Divers, hundreds of Avocet and a distant White-Tailed Eagle, I’m delighted to arrive for morning patrol to sunshine and just a hazy patchwork of cloud.
Noticeable immediately is the strength of song the brighter weather has brought - the liquid burble of Robin and meandering melody of Blackcap, as well as the shotgun-rack of an alarmed Pheasant, throaty murmur of Wood Pigeon and hoarse caw of Carrion Crow.
Gingerly slipping my way down to the Lighthouse track on a saturated path scattered with Roe Deer slots, the repetitive ‘one-two-three’ contact call of a Chaffinch cuts from the Bramble, before the bird reverts to its rapidly descending refrain.
Following the Herston Trail west, I’m primarily concerned with keeping my footing on the sodden surface, but look up long enough to spot a piping trio of Meadow Pipit pass overhead.
Pausing at the scrub-framed field gate at the south-west corner of Saxon Field, I listen to the high fluting song of a Eurasian Wren, while a set of Jelly Ear Fungi shiver in the light breeze from a dead Sycamore limb.
Arriving at the head of the Gully, I assume my usual sheltered position on the wooden bridge.
Though the shifting season means the dawn chorus is now long-gone by patrol time, the sylvan tangle of the Gully is still busy with the songs of Robin and Blackbird, while Goldfinch tinkle above and the serenade of a Skylark drifts from Centenary Field further inland.
The mast year of 2025 has meant that plenty of shrivelled Haws and Sloes remain on the Gully’s thorns - a heartening suggestion that, interminable rain aside, perhaps this has been a gentler winter for Durlston’s birdlife.