The hedge plant world’s uncouth barbarian
With crushing force, its root installs
The mighty scourge, the Red Valerian
It has become death, destroyer of walls
The weather seemed promising this morning as I tramped up to Durlston, though before long the skies began turning grey. Chaffinches were chirping in the Car Park as I crossed the Overflow into the Woodlands. Stinking Iris and a few scraps of Fleabane were skulking at the margins, the latter still yet to flower.
I started my hunt for fungi in earnest, though results were less than stellar. The Witches Butter and Lacquered Bracket were still on display, but both the Branched Oyster and Some Sort Of Tuft fungus had gone over. Nothing else of note had emerged, but I’ll keep an eye out. Bird life was scanty, but the tones of Wrens, Blackbirds, Robins and Blue Tits periodically graced my ears.
Exiting the woodlands I marched down past the Castle to the Gallery and admired the display of flora outside. Ox Eye Daisies swayed alongside thick bunches of Charlock, spots of Red Clover and infernal infestations of Red Valerian. I have a strong distaste for the latter in case you hadn’t noticed.
Along the clifftops the scent of the Guillemots was quite overpowering, plus a light rain had started up. In light of these developments I passed quickly along the path, noting Fulmars, Shags, Greater Black Backed Gulls and a Kestrel along the way. A Wood Pigeon called from among the Holm Oaks, their leafy limbs seeming to strain outwards towards the increasingly scant light vanishing behind the clouds.
In spite of the dimming conditions the path was still bright with Mallow, Agrimony, Honeysuckle and Wild Thyme. A few Teasels were rising up from their surroundings but had yet to show any signs of flowering. Buff Tailed Bumble Bees were buzzing about happily and as I began to walk back I sighted a patch of Hop Trefoil. A lovely little flower if you ask me.