Can beauty truly lie in something made to be discarded?
A brief distraction tossed aside once fleetingly regarded
Rich scents and vibrant colours soon succumb to dull decay
Abandoned by their makers, they were never meant to stay
Flowers, they are born to die once pomp and flair are through
A flower is too good to last, that much I know is true.
The sky was adorned with the elegant patterns of altocumulus as I ascended to Durlston, the mackerel sky hinting at a change in the weather. It certainly felt cooler. Entering through Skipworth Meadow, I marvelled at the ever increasing diversity of wildflowers among the flourishing grassland. Birds Foot Trefoil, Red Clover and emerging leaves of Fleabane sat below Yellow Rattle, Meadow Buttercup and Pale Flax. A few crescent shaped patches of taller, lusher growth drew my eye. Something lurks beneath the surface.
Passing down by the Mile Markers the composition changed, with Chickweed, Salad Burnet and Medic well represented. A few Linnets fluttered about the Tilly Whim Caves as I passed to pick up the butterfly transect route. Walking along the base of the Gulley I suddenly found myself between two Stonechats, the birds calling to each other over the top of my head. I chose to take being ignored by wildlife as a compliment.
Moving on to the Downlands I passed swathes of Early Purple and Early Spider Orchids, their spears stained brown and clearly reaching the end of their lifecycle. Whitethroats could be seen displaying, as well as our Skylarks, one of whom rose upon my arrival to perform its ascendant song.
On my travels I also passed by a Wild Apple Tree. It’s blossoms were beginning to swell and change colour, bulging at the base as the fruit took shape. Returning via the Lighthouse Road I was lamenting the lack of butterflies when a Red Admiral flew right past my face, its coal black and crimson colours unmistakable.
Fungi activity continues to be sparse. A few Dryads Saddle are still to be seen, but are increasingly succumbing to maggot infestation. I was extremely happy to spot a Cauliflower Slime Mould clinging to a dead log, its “bobbly” surface texture marking it out distinctly as not a fungus.