Today's weather: sunny and cool
Outlook: warm and sunny with partial clouds
The woods are peaceful this morning, cool. I listen to the call of the birds around me, picking out a pair of Robins calling to each other, and what I suspect are a Chiffchaff and a Blue Tit. A Grey Squirrel twitters at me up ahead. A Crow cackles from above. There is a distinctive joy to their sounds this morning that I fancy has to do with the crispness to the air; the scent of light frost.
Walking towards the cliff, sunlight glows through the leaves around me, illuminating them to a bright bush cricket green. Highlighted are the distant trunks of Ash (Fraxinus excelsior), Sycamore (Acer pseudoplatanus) and Hazel (Corylus avellana) as they head out over the cliffs towards a glimmering sea.
I listen to the waves below, persistent and demanding, but comforting all the same. I watch a Herring Gull glide past, hear its cheeky cohorts crying out from somewhere out of sight, and wonder what mischief they are planning.
Walking slowly, looking up above me, the trees feel taller today as I peer past them to glimpse snippets of the azure sky. I move languorously through stretches of sunlight, so warm, and know that it will be another glorious day. To either side, Ivy, sensing its days are numbered, clings tightly to the walls, awaiting the deft hands of our Parks for People volunteers.
The giant snail shell, currently on a staycation from its home in the castle gardens, has been making its way around the woodlands during our recent Fairy and Elf Trail. It appears now to be working its way back home, tired from its adventuring.
The park’s Blackberries are gleaming and plump and oh so delectable looking. I pick a few to taste as I walk and they are just as succulent as they look. As I round to the castle, I take a seat to watch the seasonal spectacular that is the migration of the Swallows and House Martins. I watch their tiny wings flutter and flap. Listen to the sweet flit-flits of their calls. They are utterly captivating, even the flight of the Jackdaws, which I normally adore appears heavy and cumbersome by comparison. Eventually they disperse and I am released. All that is left is the calls of a Stonechat, my first, echoing off the castle walls, like two rocks striking off one another.
Today's diary written by Rosaline McGraffin