I know I've written often about Bempton bird cliffs recently - so please bear with me, as  I want to share a tale from my glorious time there on Easter Saturday.

On this occasion I walked a mile or two beyond the main visitor viewpoints and came to a choice of paths. The main path was well trodden adjacent to the fields, away from the cliff edge. But right by the cliffs was another much less used path amidst the tussocks of grass, uneven and narrow, but with cliff views hidden from the main path. So I took the narrow path.

In checking out the views, to my delight I found a spot where I was very close to a gannet's nest, positioned on its own on a small outcrop of the cliff below. The grassy bank on the clifftop was dry and inviting, and I decided to stay there a while (with a nice picnic in my rucksack) and watch the nest. The view was stunning and I soon became mesmerised. For I was privileged to witness 'a (part) day in the life of' a wonderful pair of gannets. I took a lot of photos, and I'll relate a little of the day through these. Without realising the passage of time, I later worked out I'd spent over two hours (including devouring my lunch) watching the nest. It was a very intimate experience. I was away from other visitors and my only sounds were of the birds and the sea. Incredible.

When I first arrived just a single (female) bird was on the nest. But within minutes I was thrilled to see the second (male) bird arrive with a beak-full of grass and vegetation, which the pair then added to the rather thin layer already there. They appeared to be still in early stages of nest-building. The male never stayed for long, announcing his imminent departure each time with ceremonial 'skypointing' behaviour, poised for a few seconds with his head and beak pointing vertically upwards, before gliding gracefully off the cliff. Left on her own on the 'nest', the female sat quietly, occasionally stretching out to recover a loose piece of grass and push it back into place.

The male's returns were exciting! He'd come hurtling through the sky towards the nest (on a strong wind), with his wide webbed feet spread out as airbrakes, calling out as he landed. The first few times I saw this he deposited his beak-full of grass on the nest area. But then something different. Whether by coincidence or design, he appeared to be bringing the female 'gifts' of special leaves, which he placed carefully on her back. I was convinced it was deliberate and meaningful in their bonding rituals. I was close to tears as witness to this... so touching... an incredible blessing to lose myself in space and time with this wonderful pair.

A few times the male returned to the nest 'empty handed', and on these occasions the couple engaged in vigorous synchronised head shaking and beak fencing behaviour, again part of courtship and bonding. And finally, just after my phone camera battery had died, they mated.

Today I'm attaching more photos than usual, in the hope you too may enjoy the majesty and beauty of these amazing birds. And the awe and wonder of their intimate bonding.

Whenever I can on my next visits to Bempton, I hope to check out this 'Easter pair'. Days later, I still carry the sense of my wondrous time with them.

Today's self-kindness invitation is to take time to dwell with something you love... to allow yourself to be aware of all your senses... to feel the sense of the earth beneath you... and the beauty before you. Savouring beauty, in whatever form, profoundly nourishes and refreshes us. For you it's unlikely to be gannets, but I hope you find something special to dwell with.

Go well.

In warmth and kindness

Barbara