A blustery bombardment of fierce wind commanded the morning today, accompanied by a thick layer of menacing cloud that threatened rain. Although none had fallen as of yet I was surprised albeit grateful that only ten miles away in my home of Wareham a storm of hammering rain and harrowing winds raged on.
Only the hardiest of perching birds were around to brave nature’s forces this morning with the smaller of their kin bunkering down in the sequestered depth of bushes and scrub, identifiable only by their songs and calls. Robins sung out merrily despite the weather while Chaffinches chirped, Great tits squeaked and the small but mighty Wren harped its shrill powerful call. Wood Pigeons took flight but battled against the gale while Ravens and Crows were subjugated by the wind’s whims.
In the woodlands long branches of Ash and Horse Chestnut groped out like long skeletal fingers while the stern powerful, Ivy covered branches of Holm Oak stood fast against the elements however still yielding to its might. A Kestrel engaged strong wing beats to keep its course while searching for a meal in vain while a Magpie sat grumpily amongst the swaying branches.
Down to the cliffs I felt my exposed fingers begin to sting as I gripped my binoculars, the plight of a winter birder, yet unperturbed I revelled in the sight of swarms of Herring gulls who took advantage of the currents to minimise their effort in flight. A lesser number of Great black Backed Gulls swooped above the galloping white horses of foam. Jackdaws kept hunkered amongst the smuses of cliffs rather than indulge their usual rowdy unified flight yet still squawked out in annoyance at the Feral Pigeons who tried to join them.