This morning I walk through a white blanket of cloud which is covering the park.
At Burt’s bridge the song of a male Blackcap fills the air above the dell. I seem him perched at the very top of a Sycamore tree. I wonder if it could be the same chap I saw here on Monday? I cross the bridge along to the ledge which is blooming with Primroses. Little patches of Dog Violet also help add a splash of colour the mossy ground below.
I head down around the coast path, following the dry stone walls which are beginning to sprout Herb Robert, Honey Suckle, and Woodsage. Two Bluetits hop silently below a carpet of white Blackthorn flowers. They don’t stray too far, even with me passing not a meter away, possibly protecting a new nesting site in the scrub.
A lone fisherman makes his way back up the path with a rod in his hand. Below us a second fisherman is sat in a rowboat, battling his way back to Swanage against the turning tide. I can hear the sound of water all around me. The pitter patter of raindrops falling from the Holm Oaks, to the wash of the sea around the rocks below. The peace is abruptly broken as a loud foghorn booms across the channel.
Following the coast path I make my way past the glass walled observation point; now re-opened to the public and connecting through to the seacliffs and Tilly Whim. A clattering of Jackdaws swoop and saw playful above the steep rocks. I smell the Guillemots first – or at least their ledge covered fresh guano! They’re a little hard to see under the fog, but a few separated rafts of them can be seen floating on the water.
After my walk along the cliffs, I return up the hill over looking Anvil Point Lighthouse. On my way up I stumble across a discarded can of Carlsberg on an Ant hill – the second one this week! I’m not sure what would possess someone to litter here. Even on such a dreary morning, it really is a beautiful spot.