When eyes are closed to all around
One stumbles on a world of sound
A landscape just as richly filled
As any that the eye can build
A dense fog surrounded the park this morning, with visibility reduced to a few hundred metres in places. I decided on the Woodlands as my destination and headed across the Car Park to Long Meadow. Hedge Bindweed flowers interspersed the scrub, with yellow Agrimony spears beneath. A Chiffchaff disappeared into the arms of a Dog Rose, and opposite numerous cobwebs were glistening with dew.
The Woodlands were thoroughly soaked, and I hoped to find a good array of fungi, but I think it’ll take a little longer before the water’s had time to work its magic. There was abundant Hairy Stearum, as well as a yet unidentified white crusty fungus at the base of a Holm Oak. Watch this space for confirmation.
As I walked onwards, surrounded by still lush greenery, I became increasingly aware of the beautiful palette of sounds around me. The gentle patter of rain on leaves, the mixture of birdsong echoing from the branches, and the dull roar of the eternal ocean bleeding in as I approached the Cliffside. A marvellous combination with styling's from Robins, Blue Tits, the occasional Stonechat and a Blackbird.
Looking out over the sea from one of the observation points, the sounds of the waves were briefly complimented by the sharp cries of a lone Jackdaw, out of sight but not out of earshot. I moved on to look for more fungi.
A few other new items, but unfortunately not ones I was familiar with, aside from the trio of Dryad’s Saddle still going strong. One stump hosted a large brown bracket with a white rim, quite possibly a Root Rot fungus. Another interesting article was a mass of white with a nodular texture.
This morning Katie was fortunate enough to spy a Sparrowhawk while she was enjoying her morning toast. The Sparrowhawk was not dining, but appeared to be out in search of food. Probably not toast.