Complex beyond ken
A million turning cogs
To all it adapts
The countenance of the park continues to change as more rain falls, and it was with eager enthusiasm that I stepped into the Woodlands this morning. Blackbirds and Wrens could be heard almost continuously as I navigated the paths, seeing what changes were afoot. The Lesser Celandine was steadily giving way, with Bluebells becoming ever more prolific on the forest floor. Three Cornered Leek and Ramson were also beginning to show the signs of dying back, but for now they remain strong.
Continuing up I kept my eyes peeled for the true objects of my search. One log showed a revived cluster of Dead Molls Fingers, and a few fresh Jelly Ear had sprouted in the sheltered recesses of a few tree hollows. I was particularly happy to chance upon a Wolf’s Milk Slime Mould, which gives me the excuse to write the words Myxogastrid Amoeba again.
Exploring the other side of the park I trod the moistened ground, noting the rigorous growth of Common Vetch and Red Clover among the thickening grasses. Where trees obscured the sky Ground Ivy and Jack-In-The-Pulpit could be seen maturing, jostling for space among the Black Pine needle carpet of Large Copse.
Amid the calls of Chiffchaffs and Chaffinches the trees gave way to swaying seas of Pale Flax, Cowslips and Bulbous Buttercups. The stifled song of a Skylark could be heard, valiantly attempting to display in the face of the high winds. Our Whitethroats were faring better, their short fluttering’s continuing regardless of the blustery conditions.
After another dismal failure on the Downs, I collected myself at the bottom of the Gully then strode straight up towards the Learning Centre, passing steadily widening patches of Chalk Milkwort and Horseshoe Vetch. We’re going to have some happy butterflies.
For those getting Guillemot withdrawal, the Guillemot page of the website will be updated regularly, but here is an update video taken this morning, showing some eggs.