Silent ships sail salty seas, slender sleek and spritely
Without the din
Boats fit right in
They’re not at all unsightly
I crossed the Car Park this morning under a high veil of cirrus cloud, draped like a lace curtain across the sky. Heading down to the castle I spotted a small party of bids on the grass. A few Chaffinches, a Robin and a Pied Wagtail. A couple of Goldfinches could be heard nestled in a nearby Ash tree, but they didn’t come and join. Perhaps they weren’t invited?
I paused by the Buddlea on the castle terrace to see what I could see in the way of butterflies. A Red Admiral was nestling there but I failed to spot anything else. Down at Caravan Terrace a Meadow Brown was fluttering around and I spotted a Kestrel gliding lazily over Durlston Bay, calling loudly after its fashion.
Several sailboats were making their way across the water as I traversed the Clifftops, as well as a single Kayak. I enjoyed their silent company as I strolled on. Another butterfly fluttered past, alighting on the path and revealing itself as a Silver Washed Fritillary. The coast proved to be unexpectedly rich in butterflies, with Large Whites, a Small Tortoiseshell, Clouded Yellow, Small Blue and a Wall Brown also sighted.
A Shag circled down to the water, landing with a small plop near the Tilly Whim Caves. I swerved past a patch of burdock and headed on to Anvil Point Lighthouse, half a dozen Swifts passing overhead by the Mile Marker Slope. Up by the Lighthouse itself I got an incredible view of a Wasp Spider nestled in its web, the striking black and yellow markings on its underside clearly identifying it. A shame I didn’t have a camera.
A few Sea Campion were still in bloom, but these soon gave way to more Bristly Ox Tongue and Red Bartsia at the bottom of the gulley. After a little light birdwatching I managed to spot an utterly unremarkable bird, presumably a Garden Warbler.