‘Petrichor’ is what I could smell this morning – and also a word I learnt this week! It’s the name for the smell you can sense when it rains after a long dry spell. Apparently the sudden increase in moisture causes a rapid increase in the rate of microorganisms breaking down organic matter. These materials are decomposed into simple compounds, that then become fragrant aerosols in the rain!
It was soppy under my boots this morning, as I set out across the top of Lighthouse Field. Small droplets of rain sparkle amongst the leaves of Birds Foot Trefoil and Red Bartsia, whilst nodding heads of Wooly Thistle bob around in the southerly breeze.
A series of collapsed dry stone walls have meant the Hereford Cows have been moved further along the downs, after a few had managed to escape onto the Southwest Coast Path. I’m not sure how many of the 630 miles they would have covered had the rangers and a few members of the public managed to move them back in time!
Autumnal colours are beginning to show around the gully; with the dry grasses, bright red Haws and browning Bracken. That said, fresh lime-green leaves of Old Man’s Beard and Ivy continue to sprawl across the canopy of scrub as they continue to sprout late into the season.
I head out to check on the cows, who are happily mowing away a nice short turf for a fresh crop of wildflowers in the spring. This has revealed the characteristic humps and hollows of this quarried landscape. One particularly adventurous cow munches his way up the side of a steep quarr – getting all the bits we would never be able to reach with a brushcutter!
Big rafts of Thongweed float in the water a Tilly Whim, whilst a Peregrine swoops overhead. I begin the ascent up the steps over the big cave entrances, where a Rock Pipit calling out from behind reminds me to look back up the Gully. To my surprise I look to find three Roe Deer staring back at me, perfectly still amongst the Gorse and Blackthorn.