In pursuit of Spring

[puddleshark]

Hazy sunshine. Glaring white sky. A cold east wind.

I had originally planned to head down to the coast at sunrise, to look out for hares boxing in the fields above the cliffs. But my camera battery is faulty and can only hold charge for a day or two, and I had forgotten to charge it last night. By the time the battery had charged enough for me to head out, it was well past sunrise, so I stopped off at Corfe Castle to take a walk along the underhill path, in search of signs of spring.



Primroses in flower, and Chiffchaffs singing along the underhill path. Once these would have been clear signs of spring, but things are muddled now. The primroses have been flowering all winter in my garden, and the eighth of March seems suspiciously early for a migrant Chiffchaff - even with climate change, I wouldn't be expecting to hear Chiffchaffs for another week or two. Possibly I'm hearing birds that have overwintered in the UK.

It is not quite spring. No Lesser Celandines in flower yet, just their heart-shaped leaves appearing on the grassy banks.

In hillside thorn bushes, Yellowhammers are rehearsing, singing just the first few notes of their wheezy song, but not the whole. Pipits are fluttering a little way up from the gorse, practising parachuting back down, ready for their spectacular song-flights.



Coming back down towards the village, met a young woman riding a clipped-out New Forest pony (with a careful heart shape left unclipped on its bum - that's a new fashion!), accompanied by two dogs running free. She dismounted to lead the pony down the stoniest section of the track, and we exchanged greetings and comments on the weather. An encounter that left me happy to see there are still ponies using these old paths, wistful for the days of galloping along the hills.

Nipped down to the village, where the bakery opens early, and sat on the steps of the cross munching a Danish pastry for breakfast, watched beadily by the village Jackdaws.




When I moved off, the Jackdaws moved in to hoover up the crumbs.

Afterwards, a wander through the village in the sunlight, peering in the windows of the gift shops.

Comments

[heleninwales]

Spring is a bit muddled these days. I heard the first woodpecker ages ago. Meanwhile our back garden is suddenly full of celandines and one lone daffodil that has flowered again after producing nothing but a few leaves for years.

[puddleshark]

I haven't been hearing woodpeckers here yet, and the celandines are not yet in flower. This is unusual for Dorset - we're usually a bit further ahead than everyone else. But I think our weather must have been gloomier than yours last month.

[sartorias]

That looks kind of like a crow to me.

[puddleshark]

Yes, Jackdaws are the smallest of the UK corvids, with startling pale-blue eyes. Just as intelligent as crows, and rather cheeky. I'm very fond of Jackdaws. No village is complete without Jackdaws nesting on the chimneys.

[sartorias]

Blye eyes--wow!