“Hey Ash, good to see ya”
“Hey Sunshine”
“What can I get you?”
“The usual. Sunny side up.”
This mornings sky was laced with distant layers of cirrus cloud. Resting upon the horizon was a band of cumulus, stretching around as far as the eye could see like a great white halo. Swallows swooped and dived through the air around my head, taking this tiny slice of the troposphere and making it their own. Well, almost. Robins were singing in the Car Park drawing my eye towards an Ash tree’s boughs. The branches on the west side were bare, black buds exposed without a trace of lush green. Eastward the leaves remained, stretching up to catch the first rays of the rising sun and casting a patchy shadow on the grass below.
I made an excursion into the Woodlands next, travelling well worn paths in search of fungi persisting through the dry spell. I failed to uncover anything saprophytic. Just like in the car park, sunlight was the dish of the day here. A few scrawny Elms were straining upwards to catch their fill of golden rays, hardly large enough to be called saplings. Fleabane was flowering here too. I admire Fleabane. It grows for a long time before flowering, then flowers for a long time on top of that. It’s a real giver.
Heading down to the Clifftops I ran into a couple who reported sighting a trio of Roe Deer in the Meadows earlier that morning. As we spoke a Painted Lady fluttered right past my ear. Perhaps I had some Buddleia stuck in my hair. It wouldn’t be the first time. Further along the Coast Path a Red Admiral was splendidly illuminated in the light of the morning, the simple yet striking Black and Red colouration standing out all the more. Jays, Magpies, Chiffchaffs and Dunnocks could all be heard by the globe while above a waning gibbous moon rested stoically in the sky.
The tide was lower than I had seen for quite some time, rocky outcrops normally half immersed by the waves were transformed into small outstanding islands in the gently lapping waters. Rock Pipits dived away from me as I passed down to the Gulley where yet more bird life awaited. Whitethroats, Blackcaps, Stonechats possibly Linnets (they didn’t land for me to get a good look at them) were in voice. My final sighting of the morning was a Small Copper butterfly on the Lighthouse Road, also enjoying the sun. The world really does revolve around that thing.