This morning I began my walk at Belle Vue, entering the woodland below the towering canopy of Durlston’s largest tree; a monumental Monterey Cypress which has stood here for well over one hundred years. If trees could speak, I wonder what stories it could tell… from merry patrons of the Tilly Whim Inn stumbling down to the beach for drunken dip, to distraught ramblers expressing their arguing the toss at a turnstile which once blocked access to this Pine-Cliff Walk.
I descended into the bay, listening to the call of Chiffchaff and the chirping of a Robin, both of whom I later spotted creeping through the foliage screen of Willow, Elm, and Black Poplar. The trees here have all sprouted in the last 20 years or so, following a landslip which carved a great barren scar through the woodland. The access down to the shore is challenging, riddled with great boulders of limestone and slippery slumps of clay. At one point I found a pair of clay-filled trainers, recently succumbed to the sticky terrain.
As I clambered down to the beach, I found a brilliant swathe of Sea Aster, its cheery lilac flowers welcoming a host of different Bumblebees and Solitary Bees. Across the pebbles, low tide at the shore has revealed slippery green rocks covered in Gutweed, and strands of Kelp poking their fronds above the waters surface.
After having a little explore of beach, I wandered my way back up the landslip, to find even more colour in magnificent blooms of golden Ragwort, rose-pink Hemp Agrimony and fiery-orange Montbretia. The sweet scent of the Buddleia fills the air, with the more occasional aroma of Honeysuckle. Some Blackberries are beginning to ripen, though many remain a deep red colour.
Many Grey Squirrels could be seen on my return up the coast path, you can hear their claws scratch and scrape on bark as they scuttle up the Holm Oaks. Curiously, one of them did remain of the ground as I approached. Most determined it began digging down into the woodchip, before pulling out a long Earthworm for breakfast.