Amongst the sea of Ox-eye Daisies, the dark bulbous heads of Greater Knapweed have began to bloom; purple flowers with long star-like petals extending from the central thistle-like flower. You’ll find them topped with bumblebees – Buff-tailed and Common Carder.
It’s a little calmer than it was yesterday with the wild westerly wind battering the park along the cliffs to the south. Just one small Elm has fallen across a footpath, though likely already succumbed to the Dutch Elm Beetle and the fatal pathogen which it spreads.
I head down to the clifftop following the pathway lined with jittering Honeysuckle, and Tamarisk swaying back and forth. Rock Pipits tweet above the above the old Tilly Whim quarry. Below here, the water is alighted by a break in the cloud. It reveals patches of the long hair-like Thongweed beneath the water’s surface.
Jackdaws chatter along the cliff edge, perching between the fading Sea Thrift. This plant succeeded by the purple Mallow, yellow Horseshoe Vetch, and plentiful stems of umbelliferous Wild Carrot. Here I find a Limpet shell, feeling a little out of place atop a 40m cliff, but likely carried by one the Gulls, after being plucked from the rocks below.
A strong smell of guano towards the Observation Point. You can see the culprits – the Guillemots rafting together on the water. A line of white tummy feathers below their black-brownish backs; they stretch their wings and roll about on the water as they preen themselves, resting from chaos of parenting duties on the ledges above.
On my way back I head into the woodland. Sheltered from the westerlies, there’s a sense of calm beneath the canopy of fresh Holm Oak foliage. Gentle calls from Wren and Blue Tit. I listen, and watch a family of the latter flow into the cover of the flowering Bramble, Privet, and towering Horsetails.