Dappled light and welcome shade are offered by the trees
But woodlands far and near offer other gifts than these
A thousand smells, a million sounds, a feast for every sense
A treasure trove for those before and those who will come hence.
I ducked out of the already baking sun through the Woodlands this morning, taking in the soothing atmosphere that the shelter of the trees provided. I had a quick look around the aviary shed for some slates, but unfortunately that’s about the only thing we don’t have there.
The first thing I noticed upon passing the Wildlife Area was the ambient sounds of Field and Meadow Grasshoppers, conspicuously absent from my last foray into the park. The recent rain has injected new life into the park, with green returning to many of the once brown stems of Tall Fescue. Our butterflies have also made a resurgence, with prolific Meadow Brown, Gatekeeper and a couple of Adonis Blue on the wing. Rabbits and Dunnocks dived for cover at my passing and Goldfinches tweeted from hidden pulpits.
The half-naked surface of Taskers Meadow supported a few stubby Fleabane, as well as some opportunistic Carrion Crows (as if there are any other kind). Wooley Thistle stood tall, proud and colourful beyond in Saxon Field, with a few Blue Tits flittering about a Wild Clematis further on. The Drove was lined with Hawthorn and Blackthorn, each swelling with either reddening Hawberries or purpling Sloes. Further down to earth the swaying mass of Yellow Rattle shivered gently in the light breeze. The little brown husks had taken the most sensible course of action during the drought and dried out completely, ready to scatter their seeds. When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
Out along the Clifftops the familiar call of a Kestrel echoed out behind me, though I couldn’t spot the caller. More conspicuous were the occasional Shags that skimmed eastward, as well as a single Peregrine Falcon rocketing past the viewpoint. Those birds always move with an intense sense of purpose, I’ve never seen one that didn’t look like it knew where it was going.
The highlight of my stroll was when I scanned the Wild Apple tree at the bottom of the gully. A little flash of russet through the binoculars marked the return of its fruits, each one a little sphere of abstract beauty. It’s funny, I’d never stare at them in a supermarket but seeing them out here fills my soul with a sense of unfulfilled yearning. In a completely unrelated note, I just saw a Willow Warbler out of the office window. Those I can take or leave.