Winter’s steady march continues, each day shorter than the last
The tide of life is ebbing low, the sun’s strength fading fast
When solstice comes the very worst of winter will afflict us
But every year the spring returns brought by mighty Sol Invictus
After a brisk stroll up the hill from Swanage I entered Long Meadow. Jays and Magpies were on the wing, fluttering in and out of the hedgerows, though they weren’t feeling chatty. The Car Park wasn’t particularly active, aside from a couple of Robins and a strong showing of Wrens. I’m consistently surprised by how small and slight those birds are.
I decided to travel down to the Castle this morning, so I picked out a route hoping to spot some fungi. I came up short, with nothing on the timeline, though I did spot some Yellow Brain Fungus on a log on the woodland walk.
The Clifftop Trail was very blustery, and at times I had to keep my hand on my hat to stop it from escaping. Yellow Gorse flowers peppered the banks, and a large flock of Wood Pigeon came whooshing past me as I looked out to sea. Common Gulls and Greater Black Backed Gulls flapped alongside me, and a few fleshy clumps of Samphire sheltered close to the ground.
Passing by the Tilly Whim caves, I briefly took my hand from my head, upon which a strong gust lifted my hat off and tossed it into the water. Most unfortunate, it was a gift from my parents. Feeling a little miffed, I considered a rescue operation but one look at the churning waves immediately put a stop to the idea.
Beside the Lighthouse, a withered Elder tree rattled in the wind, its twiggy branches knocking against each other like a percussion instrument. Fungi were more common here, with Common and Grassland Puffballs, as well as Egghead Mottlegill and Field Mushrooms emerging from the slopes.
Crossing over the Gulley, a few patches of Hemp Agrimony were clustered by a gate, as well as a tiny tuft of Meadow Barley in the centre of the path. Returning to the Learning Centre, I spied a Yellow Meadow Ant hill with a large hoof print in the centre, it evidently having fallen afoul of one of our Herefords. I seem to remember an Aesop’s Fable with a similar premise.