Sunday 30 October 2016

But O, The Swiftly Shortening Day! Low in the West, the Sinking Ray!

The clocks had gone back an hour but I hadn't had a break from work since our West Country trip. There were many jobs to do around the house and garden to prepare for winter but the weather had been so calm for many days I had to take advantage of it while it lasted.  I completed a little in the morning but come the afternoon, to hell with the chores, I needed to disconnect to reconnect....
The Wildgrounds we visited a few weeks ago were having their last open weekend until March but I was torn between this and Titchfield Haven. It was a calm, still, and a stunning autumnal afternoon, so I chose the latter.
I parked the van along the cliff and as I loaded the camera my first shot was of a Dock Leaf Bug that had taken a liking to my van...
As I reached the harbour wall, the tide was receding and the Dark Bellied Brent Geese were gathering to feed. They come here for the winter from their breeding grounds in the Russian high Arctic.   
 The light was excellent. It was misty in the morning with the ship fog horns sounding as I woke but it had now cleared to reveal the perfect Autumnal day. The light through the reeds drew my attention.


 As I entered the reserve and the Meon Shore Hide, the Oystercatchers were preparing to depart their high tide roost to feed on the shore.
 The Lapwing were as flighty as always, regardless to the threat. There was a Buzzard and Marsh Harrier nearby though, so maybe they had a point.

 There were plenty of Snipe around the scrapes doing their best to be as inconspicuous as always...
 Having only a couple of hours at the end of the day it was fairly quiet but still a worthwhile relaxing time as I walked around the reserve.
 I do love the light through the reed seed heads, just like jewels...
 I returned to the Meon Shore Hide and got brief glimpses of a Water Rail but not enough for a  photo, so I had to make do with the golden autumnal backdrop and the occasional flight of a Jay with an acorn in it's beak. A Buzzard would occasionally glide into view too.
 

 As the reserve closed the tide had now fully receded as the sun was setting. The view across to the decommissioned power station at Calshot was very calming. 
 Looking back into the reserve, the setting sun lit up the reed bed.

 A Redshank fed in the golden glow...





 As I headed back to the van to photograph the sunset, a Spitfire emerged from nearby Daedalus airfield to produce a man made air display...




 Hill Head harbour looked serene as the tide subsided.
 I reached the top of the cliff path and looked back across to Lee on Solent as I waited to photograph the sunset feeling so lucky to live were we do.





 A short but sweet walk. Unseasonably warm but unrelentingly beautiful.



The title of this post is an excerpt from the poem 'An Autumnal Thought' by Anna Laetitia Barbauld 

Tuesday 18 October 2016

I Saw Her Flying, She Came Like A Bomb, About a Yard Off Floor, Like Lightning, Head Still


Our last full day in the South West and penultimate sunrise dawned tranquil and quite beautiful. The view from our bedroom window gave me the incentive to throw on some clothes and head down to the harbour while it was still early and quiet...


The fishing boats were making the most of the calm weather and were all out catching our dinner.
The shore in the harbour was amazing in the sunrise. I spent quite a while trying to capture it's splendor, without getting my feet too wet!
















Flitting around me were the Grey Wagtails that had previously been difficult to photograph.



I decided to head up west and along the coastal footpath. As I walked past a few houses scattered along the cliffside, you come into the scrub and along the cliff edge which opens up and get a superb view down into the Devils Frying Pan, which is a collapsed cave.
As I turned a corner I disturbed a Sparrowhawk sitting in low tree. It was off before I could get a decent shot.  



There were many birds singing in the sunrise all around the Frying Pan. Robins, Wrens, Chiffchaffs, Blackbirds and this female Stonechat. No rare Yellow Browed Warblers or Ring Ouzels unfortunately, which had been seen all along the South Coast in recent days.

Back at the pub, the numerous Jackdaws were taking time to perform their ablutions.
After breakfast, Sarah and I headed East to explore the Lizard Peninsular some more. First of all was Coverack.
The sky had some incredible cloud formations as we arrived. We parked the car and walked into the centre of town. The place was small and mainly a holiday destination which was winding down after the high season. It had an air of quiet seaside sadness about it. Once thriving during Summer, it seemed to be in hibernation for the autumn and winter. I kind of like it that way.

Some idyllic cottages lined the front. This one also sold pasties which we had for lunch.
We sat for a while and admired the view....


The harbour had a small working fishing port which supplied a few harbour side restaurants and pubs.
We got back to the car and decided to cut across the Mullion Cove on the West side of the peninsular.
Halfway there we came across a church that called out for a photo in the glorious sunshine...



We parked at Mullion on the top of the hill by the hotel. From the cliffs, we could make out a large shoal of Grey Mullet feeding on the surface.
Some great views from the clifftop looking down into Mullion Harbour.



We retired to the rather grand hotel to lower the tone and have a pint.
Sarah rested in the car while I took a walk along the coast path. Yarrow was a common wild herb I saw as I walked.
The sky and the sea were both complimenting each other as I descended into Mullion.



As I reached the harbour, Ravens called and circled overhead...






They settled on the promontory ahead of me as I ascended the opposite side
Scabious were still numerous near the cliff top.
As I reached the summit, the view back into Mullion was inspiring while all around me the constant flow of Red Admirals never ceased
The visibility was pretty good and along the coastline looking West I could pick out some prominent land marks. St. Michaels Mount at Marazion being one of them, along with Penzance, Newlyn, Porthleven and the cusp of Lands End.
I headed back to the car and another Wheatear appeared. This is another one of the stragglers heading West for Winter.

As I descended on the opposite side, Sarah's photo from the car on the other cliff warranted an inclusion. Mobile phones are pretty good cameras these days.

One more photo of the harbour as I ascended to the car.
Another enjoyable day out. We headed back to Cadgwith. The glorious weather continued unabated, so I decided on one last walk along the coast path, soaking up the last rays. I stopped by the cottage where I had seen the Small Copper a couple of days before. It was still there, and looking just as amazing as it did before!
I was conservative with my shots this time, plus there were many more walkers passing by to disturb him.
The Red Admirals were performing their routine of feeding on the Ivy and basking on the cottage walls.
The Large Whites were in the same place too. It was Groundhog Day clearly!
I headed East along the coast path and found Kes once again. Although it would need a keen eye to pick it out sat on the cliff. It was obviously part of it's territory. This part was a V shaped valley descending to the sea. The East side basked in late evening sun, the west side was obviously dark. Kes took advantage of this and hunted while it had the opportunity.
The path were I stood had a raised bank just before the edge. I laid down on the path here and gained a good point to support my camera lens. Ignoring the sheep and rabbit droppings as I concentrated on my quarry. It hunted along the precipitous edges and to my limited vision chased invisible voles....   

This is a female, and for twenty minutes, she put on an inspiring show. I lay prostrate,like a penitent man, captivated by her agility and beauty, in complete awe - I don't remember breathing in all that time. Her shadows mirrored her form like dark reflections. I'll shut up and let the pictures tell the story.... 




















































Her hunt proved seemingly fruitless, but after raising myself from the ground and sheep scat I walked away like a man after a feast. She disappeared over the cliff edge but remained fresh in my memory.
A huge grin accompanied me as I walked back after watching Kes. A Stonechat looking resplendent in the sunset only added to it and a Large White feeding on the Red Campion too.
As if to have the last word, and befittingly so, a Red Admiral posed on a Pampas Grass stem. Over the last few days we must have seen a good 250 individuals.
I retired to The Cadgwith Cove Inn and indulged in a refreshing pint. I gazed at the memorabilia on the walls. Much was related to the local people as can be expected. This chap here is Taffy, a local fisherman. A favourite in the  community and much admired by the new owners. He had just recently passed over and they were mourning his passing.A lovely man so Helen told us. 
He was joining the list of many other members of the community who have served here and have etched their own personal mark in the history of Cadgwith. He was a 'Foreigner' as Sarah and I were here but was welcomed, loved and respected nonetheless, just as we have been received here. Dead mans corner as it is know, is in need of a little more room and although a little morose, it gives the visitor a sense of place and of history in this ethereal little hamlet.   


We retired to bed after another superb meal. We don't usually partake in three course meals but with the food so good, it's rude not to?

The next and last morning here produced another breathtaking sunrise and after another lovely breakfast, we headed home with a hundred memories and over a thousand photos!  


We headed back via Bideford to pick up Sarah's Mum. Our journey back from there took in the Donkey Sanctuary who do sterling work looking after and adopting these enigmatic animals.
A final pitstop at Felicity's Farm Shop at Morecombelake near Chideock for some supplies is always a highlight and thoroughly recommended should anyone pass this way in the future.
The views alone across the Dorset coast are worth the journey.
A short but sweet trip to an amazing part of the world. We are usually used to the weather being inclement at this time of the year and I for one usual revel in this, especially on the west coast with the stunning scenery, but who am I to complain? It's a wonderful life!
 



N.B. The title of this post is from dialogue taken from the film 'Kes' directed by Ken Loach in 1969