As I write, patches of bright blue sky are slowly starting to expand, framed by fluffy, gilt-edged clouds and flashes of brilliant sunshine sparkling on puddles and leaves.
Very different to the start of the early rounds and my walk to work, in the teeth of gusts of almost 40mph and bucket-fulls of rain, with around 28mm in the last 24 hours!
Pleased to see that the new paths around the woods and clifftop have held up in the face of such a downpour – makes the amount of time spent discussing drainage over the last few years seem worthwhile!
Walking up through the woods, the air is filled with a blizzard of falling leaves, with sulphur yellow Sycamore leaves tumbling down along with the paler spearhead leaves of Lime, neat sets of Ash leaves, along with those of Holm Oak and Elm.
Bunches of brown Ash ‘keys’ have been revealed as the canopy has emptied, along with views of the Black Pines which were such a feature of the Burt landscape, gleaming Holly leaves and the attractive, patched trunks of London Planes.
Wild Cherry leaves have turned a brilliant crimson, while around the woodland floor the brilliant orange berries of Stinking Iris brighten the murk.
Just before the ‘Listening Seat’ near the top of the woodland, a Roe Deer stops to stare at me for a moment, before bounding off through the rain, while in the Large Copse, plenty of evidence that Badgers have been digging in the woodchips.
A few splashes of colour around the grassland, with the purple flowers of Woolly Thistle still visible here and there, along with the yellow flowers of Ragwort and Fleabane. Less colourful, but with a powerful, sickly sweet smell, the copious flower of Ivy, which on drier days is vital for bees at this time of year.
Along the cliffs, a few Gannets pass by out at sea, along with Brent Geese and a Kittiwake, looking impossible delicate to be out on such a wild morning.