Mist has descended upon Durlston. The park is completely enveloped by cloud with just 100m of visibility. It adds a spooky feel to the landscape; eerie to be surrounded by calm, yet hear the waves in Durlston Bay somewhere out of sight.
Standing out against the grey, a little stand of Daffodils, bright yellow trumpets and paler yellow tepals, nodding with dew. Also, just beyond in the copse another patch of yellow – Forsythia in flower and feeling somewhat out of place amongst the thicket of Dogwood.
The bird nesting has begun and a chorus of activity is heard all around. Cheery tweets from Great Tit, Robin, Blue Tit. Gentle whistles from a Firecrest with a Woodpigeon’s soft coos. Next, a Blackcap is heard, a Wren’s rapid call, and a couple Goldfinch flitting between the branches.
As the Cherry Plum blossom begins to fall, the similarly white Blackthorn flowers will follow and are already budding upon the leafless thorny branches. More signs of life upon the Elder where green leaves have started to emerge, along with the Honeysuckle, Clematis, and Bramble which intertwine through the branches. Below, arrow-shaped leaves of Wild Arum have sprouted from the damp earth.
I head down to the cliffs where a rustle beneath the Observation Point draws my attention. Camouflaged at first, but then appearing from the scrub, a Roe Buck stands upon the cliff edge. It’s new antlers thick with the fluffy velvet ‘skin’ that helps them grow each winter.
Heading west, a Peregrine’s screeching call is heard alongside a Raven’s cronk. No sign of the Guillemots, but a flurry of Fulmar activity below the flight of a Greater Black-backed Gull. Shags and Jackdaws and seen gathering twigs for their nests, whilst a courageous little Rock Pipit fends off a much larger Woodpigeon from its patch.