Today the world lies in repose, with scarce a sound or motion
Calm clifftops and mute meadows lie beside a mellow ocean
A restful morning, still, serene, with nought to break the spell
My wander through this tranquil scene is quite the joy to tell
I crossed the Car Park this morning illuminated by a pleasantly warming sun. There were a few small, fluffy cumulous clouds resting low on the horizon and above that a few thin, wide veils of cirrus draped across the sky. A few Blue Tits could be heard but not seen and I spied a few pretty little Lawn Daisies on the grassy verges.
Heading down to the Castle I took a quick detour up the woodland path to check for fungi. The Conical Brittlestems growing there had gone over and had almost all died off. As I turned to leave a cloud of over a dozen Wood Pigeons took off, the sound of their combined wing clatters cutting through the otherwise largely still morning, as well as the shriek of a nearby Jay.
Passing by the Great Globe several small flocks of Goldfinches were passing overhead, with the odd Robin perching on a branch here and there, presumably posing for Christmas card photos. A Peregrine Falcon was sunning itself on the cliffs while below small groups of Guillemots fluttered awkwardly in to land on the ledge.
The Dolphin Hut was surrounded by Chaffinches when I passed it. I thought about stopping inside for a spell but decided against it. A little way further along a group of Jackdaws nestled in the naked boughs of a Sycamore, only letting out the occasional call to ruffle the morning stillness.
Climbing Lighthouse Slope I passed a frost covered piece of Badger poop nestling inside its latrine, as well as a few Field Blewits and Egghead Mottlegills further up. On the Downlands there were a few brief trills from Skylarks, again heard but not seen.
Upon returning to the Learning Centre Katie mentioned seeing numerous Redwings passing overhead, the distinctive red flash of their namesake clearly identifying them.
Today's diary written by Douglas Hart