The walk along the cliff footpath from Limeslade to Langland Bay is never the same. There’s a breeze from the north, and ahead a cold clear blue sky stretches beyond Oxwich and Port Eynon Point to the horizon; overhead grey clouds have still to burn off. With no firing of gorse along this part of the coast in recent years, a blaze of yellow covers the cliffs, promising even more when spring finally arrives. No boats spoil the seascape, and apart from the occasional cormorant, the surface of the sea is a blank canvas. It’s high tide, the sea laps gently against the rocks below, and I hear no pounding surf.
Many ritual Sunday morning walkers, some exercising dogs, are cheery and pass the time of day. ‘Good morning’, ‘what a lovely day’, reminding me of a special Sunday morning some time ago when Wales beat England in the Millennium Stadium to win the Six Nations Championship. Even this far away from the event, big matches in Cardiff affect us here on Gower. Rugby international bring prosperity; hotels and restaurants fill, and golf clubs get day visitors.
Joggers too pass, some so fit they seem not to feel the steep rises in the path. I rest on a bench and look out to sea. A rare Dartford warbler pops up from inside the gorse a few yards away and drops down before I can lift my binoculars. The coast here is special, and the walker and joggers know it, but they probably don’t know about the very special resident they’ve just passed on their Sunday morning amble along the path.