Sunday dawned a gloriously sunny day – not a cloud in the sky. Days like this are precious and too good to waste. We had a leisurely breakfast in the garden and became completely absorbed watching the Blue Tit parents flitting to and fro with a never ending supply of caterpillars for their seemingly insatiable young. The bird song at this time of year is stupendous and today was no exception, we could have sat there all day, mesmerised by it, but we had plants to water, sheep to feed and a walk planned before lunch.
Jobs done, we set off for our walk. We were heading down into the valley to the river. The hedgebanks postively sparkled in the sunlight, frothing with the delicate white umbels of Cow Parsley, dotted with the last Bluebell remnants, Red Campions, Stitchwort and Ramsons all jostling for position. Tall Foxglove spikes were biding their time ready to delight us later, bursting into bloom, just as we’re thinking the hedgerows are losing their lustre. We turned off the lane and followed the footpath through the woods, the Ramsons had now stolen centre stage from the Bluebells lining our path with a sea of white and filling the air with the pungent scent of garlic. We followed deer hoof prints and fresh dung, they were tantalisingly not far ahead, but we didn’t catch up with them. Ravens were calling raucously from somewhere in the trees and we glimpsed a Buzzard soaring high above us.
The river, a raging torrent in winter, now flowed gently having wound it’s way from it’s source high up on Dartmoor, through its steep wooded valleys and the verdant rolling countryside of the South Hams on its way to eventually reach the sea at Bantham. Its waters on this stretch are home to Salmon, Trout and Eels and its banks to Otters, Kingfishers, Herons and several species of duck, Dippers are frequently seen in swooping, udulating flight, low over the water. It wasn’t long before we spotted a pair of Mallards, proudly shepherding their flotilla of tiny ducklings hugging close to thr river bank for safety. Following the old railway line, we crossed the river via the ancient stone railway bridge and found a patch of sunlight to sit in amongst the clumps of Wood Anemones (their flowers long finished) to watch for Kingfishers. Sadly we were disappointed on this occasion, but just sitting and watching the river in quiet contemplation was pleasure enough for us. We pressed on, scrambling up the short but very steep “killer hill,” into more woodland. We continued on along the wide forest track, flanked on one side by hundreds of Silver Birch – we wondered why so many were planted here after the conifers were felled? The other side was mixed ancient woodland, carpeted with Bluebells. Here and there were Dormouse boxes and tubes attached to trees. Yellow Brimstone, Speckled Wood and Orange Tip butterflies flitted about the small sunlit clearings. We checked the water filled ditch for tadpoles but none were evident this time.
We were on the last leg now, back on the lane again and slogging up the long hill to home in the full heat of midday sun. We spotted our first Dog Rose in flower, weaving through the hedgerows, tangling with the Honeysuckle, also about to bloom. The hedgebanks adorned our path with the whites, pinks and blues of Cow Parsey, Red Campions, Blue Bells and the purple spikes of Bugle. The air was thick with clouds of small insects, dancing in the sunlight, and the bumble bees busied themselves flitting from flower to flower in the burgeoning hedge garden beside us.
What nicer way to spend a sunny Sunday afternoon in May than to sit in a wildflower meadow by a pond and observe the wildlife? This is what we resolved to do that afternoon. We wandered down to the bottom of our field and picked a suitable spot where we installed ourselves with chairs, cameras etc. The Yellow Flag irises were in flower, brilliant splashes of yellow in amongst the Red Campions, Ragged Robin and the greenery of the Knapweed and Oxeye Daisies, still awaiting their turn to flower. Orange Tip, Holly Blue and Speckled Wood butterflies fluttered through the vegetation, alighting occasionally, but never long enough for a good camera shot! Damsel flies flitted to and fro, stunning, bright, iridescent flashes of colour as they glinted in the sunlight. I decided to lie down and look at the sky, ever hopeful I might see another Red Kite – it’s surpising what you miss if you don’t look up. Needless to say I was asleep within minutes, leaving Malcolm as sole observer. On awakening from my slumbers I was told that a Peregrine falcon had flown over, sadly no photographic evidence as it was too quick. We decided to decamp and adjourn for a cup of tea next to our other pond (now we are a two pond family!) Malcolm picked up the camera bag and shouted in surprise – a Slow Worm had crept underneath it……….our best wildlife sighting of the day.
Never Mind the Bullocks 