What are these things that scar and gouge with which our flesh is riven?
Such insolence, such hubris surely cannot be forgiven
Do you believe yourselves so grand to warrant such a right?
To build this scourge you call a road, a dead and sterile site
You must, you may, you think you can. This time I will allow
And when it pleases me I’ll swallow them with bloom and bough
Stepping lightly along the Woodland paths this morning I couldn’t help but notice the Ramsons steadily infiltrating past the log borders. It seems their growth is too rigorous to contain. The rains have clearly done wonders for the wildlife of Durlston, with everything looking a little lusher and even a few Jelly Ear Fungi managing to thrive through the warm dry weather.
Dunnocks and Chaffinches were the first birds I heard upon reaching the Meadows, a detour through Large Copse taking me past a beautiful Red Admiral that happened to be passing. The path here was experiencing something similar to the rest of the woods, Ivyleaf Toadflax and Nettles creeping in from the margins to reclaim it.
Beyond the countless nodding yellow Cowslip blooms spread out before me, with Whitethroats and Skylarks soaring and singing above. Yet again I set the Downs in my sights and pushed forward, Goldfinches and Stonechats making their presence known from wing and shrub alike. A tall stem with a delicate flower caught my attention as I strode, a Pale Flax in bloom beside a dry stone wall. Flax has been a close ally of ours since the agricultural revolution of the Neolithic. It’s good to have linen.
The Downs again hosted several performing Song Thrushes, as well as a glorious array of Early Purple and Early Spider Orchids jutting out from the short turf. I’m sad to say that I again failed to find what I was looking and listening for. Try one of Katie’s diaries instead. She’s better at this.