Well, it certainly seemed like the shortest day as I undertook the daily patrol, it was so gloomy and dark and foggy that it was difficult to make out any colours amidst the greyness.
As I squelched through the mud a croak from above indicated a Raven, which I couldn’t see even though it was obviously quite close.
Down to the gully, where all was silent and still, just trickle of water across the ground to be heard, very different as I got towards the cliffs where the roar of the sea crashing against the rock face provided enjoyment. Here a couple of Rock Pipits were flitting around, making their typical piping call as they moved.
A sudden tearing and ripping of the air and I was almost decapitated (it felt like) by a flock of Feral Pigeons speeding over my shoulder – giving me quite a start and making me duck!
In the distance the occasional flash of the brilliant white wings of a Gannet as it skimmed across the churning sea, a few more spotted as I watched.
On the cliffs the Guillemots were again standing on their ledge, a black and white image, but barely visible through the fog, dull light and water on the binoculars!
To the woods to check the drainage of the paths, mostly working OK, squatting on a trunk of a Holm Oak was a Grey Squirrel, its belly surprisingly white as it sat holding an acorn in its paw as it chewed.
As I passed a patch of Spindle, whose pink berries gave a flash of colour, a Goldcrest moved along the nearby branch, for once allowing me to have a really good look – a stripe of gold on its head and white wing bars aligned with its tiny size.
More wings flashes caught my eye, this time those of a Chaffinch, while lower down on the reddish stems of a Dogwood was a Dunnock.
Then suddenly from the top of a Willow, a Song Thrush filled the air with a beautiful burst of song.