Weeks of stillness have given way to change. Fresh winds and lower temperatures mean brighter skies, and wildlife responds. Leaves are patterning the paths, and bracken has been knocked back while kindly rewarding us with its best scorched colouring. Birds of many kinds are in restless pre-migration mode. In the mists of the last few days Chiff Chaffs were calling in the birch. They were silent today, if they were still there. Others were twittering and fidgeting instead. Whinchats in the bilberry and young birches that break up the uniformity of the heather stands. Jackdaws in loose formation heading west, a pattern that repeats every morning through the season.
Looking around for stags after many days absence, because these are just the conditions when they think of moving onto Blacka, I could see none. For them the new coolness, the promise of fewer midges in the fresh breeze, and the variety of food and shelter available are an inducement. Finally one was spotted far off in the bracken above the track. Right after all.
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