In life I built a balcony, from scratch I made it new
I sat astride the woodland ride and gathered drops of dew
I grew a shaggy beard, as my hair thinned up on top
And shed my blood into the mud by heavy crimson drop
And for a time the tree was mine, bequeathed by my forbears
Then came decline, and I got mine, just like they all got theirs
As I entered the park via the Woodlands this morning I inspected the new walkways with great interest, before moving on to examine some of our more long standing paths. Some areas had seen a little scouring from the rains, but overall they seemed to be faring well. Yellow Ear Fungi was growing in a few locations, along with Jelly Ear and Candlesnuff hidden within the recesses of the foliage. I stopped by a familiar tree and discovered a decomposing carcass at its base. It was large and black, vaguely resembling a tarantula at a cursory glance. It was the remains of the Shaggy Bracket that hung so splendidly there a few months earlier. It remains impressive, even in death.
I ran into Katie who was out for a wildlife wander. We discussed coverage and she set off, returning later with reports of Bullfinches, Song Thrushes and a Kestrel. That’s the birds covered then.
I made my way out to the Meadows, wandering aimlessly in the grey morning half light. The Altostratus above had rendered conditions a quintessential British overcast, and little seemed to be stirring beneath its looming presence. Cloud breeds apathy if you ask me.
Things livened up a little when I arrived at the clifftops, the ocean seeming more energetic than the hibernating greenery of the land. Our Guillemots were out in force on the ledge, a Peregrine Falcon perched further up. It sat stock still, seeming to watch the coming and going of the smaller sea birds. Would you call that birdwatching? A Fulmar was gliding near the observation point, its near effortless flight contrasting with the busy flapping of Rock Doves and Jackdaws.
Just shy of reaching the Learning Centre I happened across another Mystery Fungi growing atop a grassy verge. I’m going to nail my colours to the mast and say it’s a Snowy Waxcap. It’s a bit late, but I reckon I’m right.