15th July from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth

The one thing that can be guaranteed about the West Cliff Green is that the weather will never match the forecast. Heavy thunderstorms and torrential rain did not materialise and the sun insists on struggling through the overcast. The wind, however, is strong and pushy so I suppose that counts as a thirty percent success. The clouds are big and buxom and hurry across the sky like a dowager Duchess on a shopping expedition among the lower classes. The waters of the bay are whipped up into a mass of white horses where the MV Pelican is riding at anchor and only the most foolhardy are venturing into the big, wide breakers on the beach. There are plenty to keep the lifeguards busy, though. The wind thrashes through the trees displaying the contrasting pale underneath of their leaves in sudden brilliant flashes against the darker green. A pair of gulls circle but the pigeons are enjoying the extra speed the wind gives them by skyrocketing across the green and performing their aerobatic twists and turns over the clifftop. Honey bees keep up their quest for nectar amongst the brambles and are quite unperturbed by the bluster.

From 15th July 2022

Normally a stiffish breeze would be annoying buttoday it moderates the blistering heat and lifts the scent of pine needles and bracken into the air. The tree branches sway making the dapples on the path dance and bother about. The sea is only slightly wrinkled but the breeze lifts the occasional white cap off the deep blue green water which sparkles as if its mother has been up all night sewing sequins on it.. Butterflies tumble; a bumble bee clings to a teasel like an acrobat as the stalk pirouettes beneath it. Gulls swoop and glide on the air. A greenfinch practises its voice from a gorse bush. Crows call to one another. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #July #summer

From 15th July 2016

Looking at the piles of sand that the ants have thrown up on the car park made me consider that, without intervention, the whole hard surface would be gone in ten or so years. Then I remembered Charles Darwin's research into worms and how he showed how quickly Roman ruins were covered with layers of soil. I guess we should remember how temporary is our stay and how quickly our works would be buried. On the other hand, for all the violence and hate, there are good things about being human and about being alive which we should strive to preserve and hand on to a future world.

From 15th July 2015

The clifftop is heavy with the intense sweet scent of honeysuckle. The vines tangle in and out the gorse and darkening bracken. The evening is almost dead still. The only sounds is the almost imperceptible chatter of Swifts flying so high they are almost invisible against the pink edged grey evening clouds. Below a couple walk hand in hand along the gentle surf edge. The wavelets provide a distant wash.