My name is water and I go where I please
And any obstruction is conquered with ease
I scoff at your gutter, your trench and your drain
Against my procession your efforts are vain
I’ve carved out grand canyons, cut mountains in two
My name is water, and I’m coming through
A light rain was falling as I began my excursion this morning, the rattling calls of a Magpie meeting my ears as I toddled across the Car Park and over to Long Meadow. A duo of Robins were hopping about on a lichen encrusted bench, Oakmoss growing alongside Common Greenshield. The bright lights of Bournemouth were peeking through the fog beyond Old Harry as I advanced to the Woodlands, the veiled form of a bird above revealing itself to be a Herring Gull as it spread its wings wide.
The landscape was incised with rivulets, these steady streams of water carving out paths of least resistance as they followed the inexorable pull of gravity. I sought the driest footing possible as I searched for fungi, finding no new specimens of interest but spying many familiar faces. Our Turkey Tail, Perenniporia fraxinea and Yellow Ear Fungi looked even more lush than when last I saw them. A few stalwart Laquered Brackets were on display as well as some fresh King Alfred’s Cakes, looking as if they’d just been taken out of the oven.
Checking on the woodland path beside the Castle I braced myself for the worst. The heavy rains had scoured a trench through the freshly laid surface, making a mockery of the drainage I’d so recently installed. A few minor adjustments and I had it working again, but the damage had been done. Back to the drawing board. A Jay screeched out in the midst of my labours, falling silent again as I left for the clifftops.
Caravan Terrace hosted a small flock of Bullfinches alighting in the Sycamore and Holm Oak below the bridge. I heard them approach before they settled, proudly displaying their black heads and rich red breasts. The volunteers had built a section of dead hedge last Tuesday and I took a moment to admire it. Despite the small timeframe and less than ideal materials they were given, I thought it looked rather good.
Out in Durlston Bay there was a gathering of Shags. Some half dozen were floating on the water, with others flying east and west at various altitudes. Cutting my outing short I returned via a wooded way, noting Jelly Ear and Grey Coral Fungus on the understory.