A brilliant bright sunrise this morning, rising on a clear horizon to the south east, with just a few clouds in the sky. Warmly lit plane contrails cut across the blue, in the sunlight. On the timeline, a Chaffinch chirped away sounding a little bit disgruntled at the nearby group of Grey Squirrels jumping bullishly between the branches of Elm and Holm Oak.
Further down the road, the Globe and Sea Chart stood proudly above the sea thanks to the clearance of the thick Bramble, Ivy, and Clematis on the volunteer work party yesterday. Two Robins hopped from stone to stone along the top of the newly exposed dry stone wall.
In the distance a single Gannet flew in close to cliffs, close enough to recognise it as a recent regular, distinguished by a large piece of plastic or rope stuck around its beak. These seabirds are incredibly well adapted for fishing underwater. They have spongy skin tissues, strong interlocking muscles, and efficiently streamlined bodies to dive at speeds of up to 60mph. With such an awkward and bulky obstruction on its beak, I fear the future of this poor bird, carelessly harmed by the waste of us Humans.
The coastpath was chilly, with much of the ground frosted in the shelter of the wall. Two Guillemots sat on the waters surface below their ledge. Each of them repeatedly dipping their heads underwater. I wonder if it’s for bathing or to keep an eye out for passing fish. Occasionally the two drift apart, but quickly reunite with a few paddles of their large webbed feet.
The lighthouse field is an impressive sight on a crisp morning like this. It’s south-facing slopes glow in the morning sun, whilst long shadows are cast throughout the gully. The noisy arguments of four Magpies dominate the landscape as they chase one another from tree to tree. Nearby the low undulating flight of a silent Green Woodpecker catches my eye, before stealthily disappearing out of sight.