This morning my walk takes me down the Diagonal Path towards Tilly Whim. Tuneful song from one of our smallest birds, a Wren, booms out across the scrubland; Gorse scattered with Blackthorn and Hawthorn, and smothered by Old Man’s Beard.
High pitched calls from Chaffinch and Common Whitethroat contrast that of the Stonechat’s familiar ‘chak chak’ and the low rumbling of fishing boat trundling past. A Buff-tailed Bumblebee investigates a dangling Dog Rose, decorated with flowers.
The sea state is calm and grey, shaded under heavy clouds. First the sound of the clattering Jackdaws which carries up the slope, followed by the curious chatter from Guillemots as I approach the water. And then the splish-sploshing of wing patter as both Guillemots and Razorbills preen themselves upon the water.
Now with their chicks to feed upon the cliffs, they’re busy toing and froing from the busy ledge, somehow landing amongst the packed ledge and defending their catch – Sandeels or Sprat, to feed whole to their young. The fishy guano smell rises in its wake.
The coastal path is lined with cheery sunny blooms of Hop Trefoil and Horseshoe Vetch. Patches of purple Wild Thyme have blossomed upon the bare earth and exposed Ant hills.
Steadfast wings and flailing feet, where Fulmars loop back and forth below the wall. The coastal slopes are now adorned with Wild Carrot, ranging from white to pink. Purple Mallows and fading Thrift and intermixed along with the occasional Pyramidal Orchid.
Looking down over the Observation Point, I see two Roe Deer grazing with caution. One buck with it’s three-pronged antlers, and a doe without. They keep eyes on me and a nearby photographer, and I soon head onwards not wanting to startle them off the cliff.