Heather and Gorse

The cliffs are a real picture at the moment. There’s a good autumnal flowering of gorse, and mixed in with the purples of heather and the greens and browns of fading bracken, the limestone is covered with a rich, mellow carpet. This, and the pastel-blue clear sky against the unique pale Gower limestone, is one of the reasons why I live here. I don’t come to the cliffs for birds at this time of the year, just to walk slowly along the paths looking at the commonplace, which never fails to inspire.

There are some common birds about, and stonechats are always a treat to watch. This year’s juveniles are now indistinguishable from their parents, and there seems to be a bird every few yards along my regular walk. It’s the quintessential bird of west coast cliffs, and forever lifts my spirit. An old friend in Cumbria has been studying stonechats for most of his adult life, and has ringed many thousands. Some of our native stonechats migrate to Iberia for the winter, and as an excuse for a winter holiday he visits Spain each year looking for his colour-ringed birds. Of course he’s never found any, but his passion for Spanish wines more than makes up for this.

Robins are taking up their winter territories along the path, their welcome thin song calming the noise of the crashing surf below. Linnets are forming sizable flocks, and rock pipits too are much in evidence. A few of these striking grey pipits will soon begin to take up winter territories in the small coves on the rocky shore, but most will form into flocks, which roam around the coast throughout the winter.