A flash of yellow. Little red faces reflective of the crimson Haws in the hedge beyond. A small charm of Goldfinch settle amongst the meadow. They appear almost weightless as they cling to the thin stems of Agrimony and feed on seeds from the Ragwort and Creeping Thistle.
Beneath the cool canopy of the Holm Oaks, stones and leaves crunch together underfoot; the dusty track littered with the premature fall of Sycamore. Blue Tit whistles sounding through the trees, and the soft ‘tsee tsee tsee’ of a Firecrest.
It’s calm across Durlston Bay, it’s hard to reason the boats being pulled from the water for the strong easterly forecast tomorrow. Peering out through the Black Pines gives a distinct Mediterranean feel with warmth lent to my skin by the rising Sun.
Down the landslip waves the lordly Pampas Grass. Through the chaos of slumping clay and upturned limestone, life finds a way with beautiful lilac-petalled Sea Aster in bloom, and humming with hundreds of Drone Fly which mimic a Honeybee.
High tide floods the kelp Oarweed forest and slippery rocks covered in green Gutweed. It’s quiet, excepting the tweeting Rock Pipit flitting between the pebbles. It’s hard to imagine a 6’ Tuna breaching the water surface, as reported at Dancing Ledge on Wednesday.
Upon a dry stack of stones, someone has created a bench from a long piece of driftwood – it’s bark bleached white under the Summer Sun. Red Valerian reaches out from the surrounding rockface and Hemp Agrimony just going to seed.
On my scramble back up to the coastal path, I happen upon a mass of Woodpigeon feathers , likely unceremoniously knocked out of the sky and ripped apart by one of the Peregrine Falcon passing above. Two Peregrine chicks fledged this season and they will now have learnt how to hunt for themselves.