The tinkling calling of a group of Goldfinches as they perched in the tops of the Sallow, as they fluttered their gold wings flashes caught the morning light. On closer inspection through the binoculars the reds, whites, browns and golds are gorgeous.
Above the flower and grass filled meadows, Skylarks are still singing, the loud melodious song floating down from the grey sky as I wander the paths admiring the flora.
Impressively tall, deep purple Self-heal growing alongside the delicate Grass Vetchling and Pale Flax. A patch of Yellow Vetchling with its unusual leaf layout to be spotted near the rambling Tufted Vetch.
Climbing up the stem of a Downy Oat Grass was the orange coloured Soldier Beetle, while resting on the wafting top of Meadow Fescue was a Six-Spot Burnet Moth, the black and red markings showing well.
A sudden crashing amongst the hedgerow and a male Roe Deer could be seen leaping, easily able to bound over the dry-stone wall, where it stopped and looked at me, the bent antler making it an easily recognizable individual.
Having stopped I took in a family of Stonechats which were perched on the tall dead spikes of a Dog Rose, holding on between the larger sharp spikes of the thorns. A young Stonechat with a fleck of orange on its otherwise mottled chest, the adult perhaps as little tatty after raising the brood.
The long seeping call of a Greenfinch and the scratchy calling of a Common Whitethroat, added to the sounds of the morning, the breeze moving and waving the Yorkshire Fog grass beautifully. Crawling in amongst this was a Roesel’s Buch-cricket, and a Meadow Grasshopper.
The Guillemot numbers are dwindling fast, with the upper (the more open ledge) almost empty of chicks, the remaining adults mostly now facing seawards showing off their white bellies. Just 35 adults counted instead of the 180ish of the rest of the season.