White horses stampede
Determined cliffs hold their ground
Guillemots retreat
Today a bracing wet wind blows in across from the channel to the south. The trees are alive and my hood rattles behind me. Our Hereford cattle shelter behind the scrub patches of Blackthorn, their reddish-brown coats dark and sodden. Behind me I hear the high-pitched twittering of what I think was a few Long-tailed tits, though whoever it was had hidden themselves well-within the Hawthorn, and became silent on my approach.
As I rounded a corner of Anvil Point Lighthouse, a startled Kestrel leapt out from it’s familiar perch on a high window sill. It’s wing and tailed feathers splayed out to catch the wind and carry it far over the gully. My attention is drawn down as small sign loose on its screw, clinks against it’s post; tap, tap, tap. The wet ground has encouraged an array of Field Mushrooms to burst out of the ground like popcorn, whilst a single bright purple Knapweed flower brings a welcome hint of brightness on this very drab day!
Out to sea visibility is poor, with thick misty clouds sitting low upon the water. This is where I spot a lone Shag dipping and diving into the waves. One by one both adult and juvenile Great Black-backed Gulls glide westward along the cliffs, perhaps to see what the rough weather has churned up overnight. An impressive flux of Woodpigeons simulataneously soar up into the sky.
The final part of my walk takes me along the coastpath to the great stone Globe, sitting proudly upon Durlston head. Our Tuesday work party volunteers have been busy cutting and clearing scrub around it’s perimeter, doing it justice by opening up the surrounding views. A light smell of smoke hangs in the air. Embers of Tamarisk ash still hold heat from yesterday’s fire, despite the rain.