As afternoon drifts towards evening I sit up on the rocks beyond the Harold Stone, with St Brides and her brood of supertankers awaiting entry to Milford Haven laid out before me in the hazy sunshine. Another milestone passed for the season today - my first Razorbill chick at High Cliff. I watched its parents fussing over their new offspring as another parent - an Lesser Black Backed Gull - skimmed over my head, deciding that, despite my daily presence since last April, I was now a threat to her nest. Further above me a Raven and a particularly scruffy Buzzard tangled briefly before going their separate ways.
The last couple of days have passed quickly. I finished the last of my early season Fulmar surveys (I visit them three times to record the number of active sites, returning in August to count the number of large chicks). On The Neck too the Lesser Black Backs are in combative mood; close to the trace of a path that winds between the Manxie burrows were nests harbouring tiny downy chicks, their discarded egg shells close by. There is a certain peacefulness to that part of the island - no large paths, no people, only echoes of a distant past - prehistoric earthworks and, to the east, a stone circle, although I have never been that far round - the ground is very fragile.
It is much cooler now than on Friday, when I swam for a long time in the bay - a cold southerly wind blusters over the back of the island. From where I sit, clumps of pale daffodils pierce the bluebell swathes, signs of spring that are lingering long this year. Rabbits lollop over the turf and an occasional swallow arrows by, low over the vegetation, and below my rocky perch. Time to head back to the farm and make some food...
No comments:
Post a Comment