Durlston Diary: Thursday, 21 June 2018
Weather: Sun with clouds and slight wind
Outlook: Warm with sun and clouds
Intending to walk the meadows this morning, I am instead pulled towards the lush, cool, calm of a Woodland morning. Greeting me just beyond the gate is a Great Spotted Woodpecker, making itself know with a hammering followed by an intriguing call sounding like water droplets on a pond. Not to be outdone, Crows swoop overhead clacking out a qwaa qwaa qwaa!
Woodpigeons are slowly becoming my favourite woodland birds. Their soft, sweet coo is like a hum, a vibration, permeating through me, providing a most wonderful sense of peace. Before me, the sun glimmers, sweeping, swaying, patterning nearby trees and paths and leaves. The darkness seems richer, my eyes glamoured by the light. Chaffinches sound shrilly from the canopy. So peaceful.
Below the bridge across the Coast Path, the stream bed is dry, yet the trees the surround it have learned to imitate its gentle gurgle – a ghost of a sound that takes by surprise every time. The magic ends and it is just tress once again. A Chiffchaff calls and my passage frightens a passing Grey Squirrel, who stops to chitter at me in admonishment.
Blackbirds sing from above, their sweet notes, drifting down. Looking down I find one of their feather, adding it to my pocket. The air, this morning is so fresh, so very clean, I gather in great lungfuls, thinking I can almost taste it. (That may, however have been the blueberry muffin I ate on my way in this morning.) The trees once again, build in crescendo, the Holm Oak and Sycamore building in glory before once again shushing themselves to near silence.
Reaching my favourite bench, I sit for a while, watching as a sailboat mills past on glittering waters. A party of Herring Gulls shriek and swoop in the sky before me, their excitement palatable. Beside me a Robin pips from atop the wooden hurdles, tit-tit-tit. Heart shaped Black Bryony leaves stretch on their vine, hanging out into thin air. I think I will stay here for a while, join me?
Diary written by Rosaline McGraffin