The weather was unremittingly wet but walking on my own in the morning gave a good opportunity for close observations. The first area of parkland was full of scores of swallows perched in close order on the metal fences around the copses and on the upper dead branches of the old hawthorn tree. They almost took it in turns to dash away to catch insects at nearly ground level particularly under the trees where the cattle had deposited their dung. The old adage about low flying swallows forecasting rain was certainly borne out. This large group must have been a fore runner of the autumnal congregation of swallows which presage their southerly migration. They certainly fooled the eminent naturalist Gilbert White of Selborne who observed flocks roosting in reed beds in early autumn and concluded that they hibernated at the bottom of lakes.
The secret valley certainly lived up to its name. Walking on the short grass of the path near the seat, I saw two stoats appearing from the longer grass on the right some 30 metres away. The larger one, presumably the mother, paid little attention to me and approached to ten metres before disappearing into the grass on the left. The three quarter grown one, presumably a female offspring, was more circumspect and initially retreated to whence it had come. But faced with the prospect of losing touch, it re-appeared and followed up the track and into the long grass in exactly the same place as mother who, by then, was out of sight. Stoats are easily identifiable by the black tip to their tail which still persists when the rest of the fur changes partially or wholly to white for the winter.
Colin Dibb
The afternoon walk started out in a downpour which surprisingly did not deter the swallows, who were still using the fences in the parkland as they had earlier in the day. Since there were no Basildon visitors who wished to brave the rain (which continued for over an hour), I also had a solo walk to look at the flowers of the hidden valley.
Although the wild parsnip continued to give an overall scene of yellow to the meadow, the recent rains had elicited a surprisingly quick response from other plants. Flowers of eyebright bordered the path, a galium sp had new buds, while the black medick carried both ripe seeds and newly opened flowers. The first signs of autumn were here – the first yew and holly berries turning orange, and the fruit of black bryony looked almost as large as bunches of grapes where it hung from vines along the paths.
The rain became a light drizzle and a few grass moths and hoverflies ventured out while one lone meadow brown butterfly looked for nectar – even he stayed closer to the ground than is normal and I assumed he was ensuring shelter was nearby as rain threatened once again.
Ricki Bull