I silently gave thanks to the weather for clearing up in time for my last morning on the park, my early walk was neither sweaty nor a wash-out, and the park’s vegetation has clearly enjoyed the recent dampness.
Greeting me first thing were a pair of Tits, namely a Coal Tit and Great Tit. The two of them perched atop a bush of Gorse, forming a pleasant partnership within the Tit genus.
The same cannot be said, however, for our butterflies, who as usual were alternating between enjoying the Sun’s morning rays and scrapping above the decaying stems of Ox-Eye Daisy which populate the meadows. When one settled for long enough, I was pleased to receive a long look at 3 Ringlets, each resting on an East-facing flower of Knapweed.
As I continued through the gate into Johnston Meadow I narrowly avoided planting my boot into a pile of Badger poo, these reclusive mammals are usually rather considerate and do their business in a tucked away hole, so I was surprised to see such a heap. However I was not surprised to see it full of seeds from Bramble.
Further coastwards I heard a young Peregrine diligently practicing their tell-tale screech, and watched a Kestrel moving methodically about the sky in the search for breakfast. The latter evidently tired of me snooping through my binos and flew towards the Sun, which due to its low position in the sky had all but blinded me throughout my ramble. A reminder that summer will be drawing to a close in the not too distant.
I stood atop the remains of the old Napoleonic radar station, and hopefully looked out to sea, searching not for enemy ships but for a glimpse perhaps of the Dolphins. This was not to be, and I instead observed a pair of Ravens travelling ever so slowly along the cliffs, croaking as they did so. Trailing behind was a small group of Jackdaws, appearing as something of an entourage.
My attention was then grabbed by a Fox Moth Caterpillar at my feet, and a Stagecoach Horse Beetle, who successfully evaded capture for minutes on end.
Just before returning to the Learning Centre, I stopped next to a Meadow Brown butterfly who was, predictably, sun-bathing. His perch of Ragwort, ripe for the pulling, granted temporary protection from myself as a result.
Diary written by Cameron MacInnes