See our helmets looming through the cover of the trees
We know we are unwelcome, but we travel as we please
We have come to stake our claim upon these distant shores
There can be no resistance against such conquistadores.
The morning fog suffusing Durlston brought a pleasant stillness to my wanderings today, the mixture of air and water dampening distant sounds and heightening my perception of nearby ones.
There was much to take in, but not quite of the nature I had hoped. Despite the recent influx of precipitation Durlston’s fungi had failed to respond. Even the cluster of Glistening Ink Caps I’d spied on Thursday had already gone over and vanished back into the earth. I took a closer look at the Bluebells on the floor of the Woodlands, distinctly Spanish with their upright posture.
Breaking through into the open of the Car Park I spied Ground Ivy, Red Clover and abundant Bulbous Buttercups growing amidst the tall grass of the verges. A few stems of Yorkshire Fog had unfurled, like miniature ears of wheat. Chiffchaffs and Goldfinches were both singing their hearts out, with the odd Chaffinch seen but not heard as well. As I headed down to the castle a Bullfinch fluttered over and alighted a few metres in front of me, pausing for a moment to gently preen its feathers. I love it when they do that.
Passing blooming Fuchsias and Garlic Mustard I reached the cliffs and continued to the Observation Point. A quintet of Gannets sailed by out to sea, with Guillemots wheeling and diving above the water and Fulmars gliding skilfully above. And they say the air shows have been cancelled.
Yet more new blooms revealed themselves as I continued on, with Woody Nightshade, Charlock and Kidney Vetch all showing on the margins of the path. Reaching the base of the Gulley I followed its course to the Bridge, catching sight of Whitethroats and a lone Greenfinch for good measure. Leaving the recesses of the earth behind me I returned to the Learning Centre, a Song Thrush’s farewell chorus fading into the mist behind me.