Lichens show us how
There is strength in unity
They grow everywhere
A tranquil walk to the park this morning, with just the glow of the streetlights for company. The park was almost as quiet as I entered, with just a pair of Blackbirds fluttering about on the path in Long Meadow. After calling in at the Learning Centre, I headed off towards Large Copse, navigating the saturated paths as best I could. A Robin was bob bob bobbing alongside one of the gates, its feathers puffed up for insulation against the biting cold. The Corsican Pines ahead were swaying in the strong wind, the sound of it blowing past creating a quiet, dull roar. The whole scene was rather reminiscent of the ocean, and I took a moment to take it all in.
Inside Large Copse I discovered to my delight that two new fungi species had popped up, which I will identify and disclose in due course. Also to be seen were the remains of the once proud Shaggy Parasol mushroom, now fallen to decay. Not even fungi are immune.
Along the path, a Hawthorn tree was coated in Oakmoss Lichen, it’s cargo of sloes now almost rotted away. The winds were still blowing strong, and the only birds that seemed interested in braving them were a pair of Magpies and a Wood Pigeon. Even from my favourite observation mound by the drove I couldn’t see any others. In Brian Johnson Meadow, an Elder tree supported a yellow green jacket of Lichen, Candelaria concolour I believe. A single Carrion Crow sat by the edge of the meadow, apparently not enthusiastic to take wing. As I was regarding it, a Greater Black Backed Gull soared overhead, displaying its impressive wingspan.
On my way down to the lighthouse I passed a few Field Blewits, and an Earthworm that had been driven to the surface by the rising water table. Good luck my friend, there aren’t too many early birds around. A single patch of flowering Gorse was squatting in the middle of the field adding a pleasing splash of extra yellow to the landscape.
Pausing beside the Gulley to listen for activity, I eventually made out a small group of Redwings, hugging close to the scrub for cover. Clever birds. Down by the cliffs, several Shags were to be seen. One was bobbing gently on the waves, intermittently diving beneath the waves for breakfast. By this stage my hands were almost completely frozen through, so I decided to return to base.