On my way to the office this morning I saw two Goldfinches withdrawn to the sturdy branches of a Hawthorn, retreating from the strong winds to the west. Their bright red faces and cheerful yellow wings, a contrast to the otherwise dreary and dull day.
Following their lead, I decided to head down into the woodland. On my way Blue Tits and Great Tits chirped away in the hedgerow, where I noticed the rose-pink berries of the Japanese Spindle has began to open up, revealing the orange seeds inside.
Down by the aviaries it was much calmer, the trees below the canopy stood still, and the roar of the wild seas sounded distant. Water slowly trickled down through the stream, winding it’s way through it’s bank edged with Hart’s Tongue Fern, Male Fern, and developing Daffodil leaves.
Nearby the mottled bark of the large Plane Trees had dampened to a deep yellow colour. I took a closer look and spotted a Two Toothed Door Snail and two Woodlice (or Chiggy Pigs as I grew up to know them) sheltered beneath the peeling bark.
On the corner of the Aviary Glade, the usual patch of Crocuses were sprouting from the ground, ready to erupt into their purple flowers. These flowers grow from an underground energy store like the Daffodil bulbs, called a corm. This enables them to flower early in the spring before pollinating insects have emerged and make the most of the spring sunshine before the tree canopy shades out the understorey below.
Around the headland I could see 12 Gannets flying close to the cliffs. Their wings held strong as they flew incredibly controlled given the unpredictable and gusty conditions. Rafts of Guillemots and Razorbills were being swept east as they battled over the waves. Further off the coast Hamish reported Great Skua, 400 Gannet, 600 Kittiwake, and 1000 Razorbill passing by – he certainly has a much keener eye than me, but perhaps I can blame it on forgetting my binoculars this morning.