No inch of Durlston’s land or skies are free from song and call
The birds perform without repose from twig and bush and wall
The sound unceasing yet for sure it’s wrong to call it noise
Akin to silence, restful, calm and full of depth and poise
Once again the weather was bright and sunny as I made my happy ascent to Durlston. Passing a clump of Three Cornered Leek and some Forget-Me-Nots, I passed between the pillars and into the Woods. Lesser Celandine, Ransoms and Daffodils all decorated the dappled forest floor, with a patch of Garlic Mustard in flower as well. This plant is one of my personal favourites; being neither a garlic nor a mustard, it's a strong candidate for the title of “Stupidest Plant Name Ever”. Lord knows it has some stiff competition.
A brief glance into the Wildlife Area beside the Learning Centre revealed Chaffinches, Goldfinches, Dunnocks, a silent Song Thrush and a pair of Roe Deer lying among the long grass. Great Tits and Wrens were in voice as I walked down towards Caravan Terrace past the spreading leaves of Green Alkanet. Violets and Primroses drank in the sunlight beneath the Purbeck stone exposures, while Blackthorn blossom painted the recently laid hedges white.
Before the Great Globe the fleshy leaves of Sea Beet could be seen, alongside a few Great Periwinkle flowers. At the observation point I ran into a certain bird expert, who reported Siskins, a Willow Warbler, Gannets and Sandwich Terns among his morning sightings. In the midst of our conversation he mentioned another bird he had recently heard on the Downs, at which point I was off, desperate for a chance to hear a Yellowhammer of my own.
Small soil mounds from Mining Bees could be seen at various points along the path, the dry conditions making them more pronounced. Arriving on the downs, I began my search, ears straining to make out the distinctive song I was seeking. Skylarks were near ubiquitous here, scarcely a second passing where one couldn’t be heard. Also among the trees a few Stonechats perched, and I even caught a fleeting view of a Blackcap as it briefly paused before me.
Sadly, even after much looking and listening, my hunt was unsuccessful. The only yellows I made out were from the abundant Gorse flowers. Still pretty, but not what I was looking for. Fear not dear reader, I will not be discouraged. If there are Yellowhammers out there, I will find them and tell you about it.