I set out to follow Ben Perkins' directions on the Pyecombe circular walk (Weekend, January 25).

Stepping out of the car, I was greeted by the "chck chck" of a stonechat, a sound I associate with escaping to wilder places.

In its dowdy winter plumage it was not much to look at - sparrow-sized with a orangey rufous tinge to its upper parts. It was nevertheless a welcome reminder of having escaped the stresses of the city.

The wind coming off the sea was a constant reminder this was to be no stroll in the park, no summer's day meander. Driving there we saw mountainous waves having the tops blown off them by a stiff south-westerly.

At the halfway point I heard a mewing sound which, although familiar, I couldn't quite place. Hard to pinpoint at first I looked up to see, soaring on its large, round wings, a buzzard.

Tawny and white it seemed to be enjoying the blustery conditions - wheeling, and turning to let the wind catch its sail-like wings.

It was joined by another, calling to each other. Perhaps they were a pair?

They seemed antagonistic towards each other but this can often be the case, love in the natural world being tempered by the need to survive.

They soon disappeared over the horizon, distance being no object to a resident of the sky, leaving me to ponder the weight of my feet as I began to tire on the final stretch home.

  • Richard White, Lustrells Vale Saltdean