15th October from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth

Raggedy jagged craggy furrowed grumpy old man waves. Pushy shovey bumptious breeze send the autumn leaves swirling, twirling along the footpaths in little whirlwinds. The sun peers out from behind the bars of slatey clouds and drops a brilliant luminous lifeline to the distant horizon but the cloud wardens shuts it down and the day returns to misty, drifting drizzly gloom as before. A barrel full of sparrows chatter in the warmth of an evergreen bush. A man wit an enormous grey half beard hurries along clutching a bunch of red carnations.

From 15th October 2021

Another, warm, grey, windless day. Sounds have that curiously muffled sound that is typical of October. I see a someone kneeling beneath the pines with hands over his ears. Drawing closer I see it is just an old, whitened tree stump. A pigeon crackles out of the bushes next to me. It is odd how this place is more uncanny on a Friday afrternoon like this than at midnight in the depths of winter.

From 15th October 2019

The fog is not thick but I cannot see the sea from the clifftop. The waves make a constant rushing sound out of the stillness. Moisture drips from the bushes and trees. The street lamp glow is absorbed into the mist which makes an artificial seeming layer beneath the trees like a cheap movie effect. It is not cold and the air is calm. The sky lightens and a robin sings from a clifftop bush. Whatever the time of day or night, what ever time of the year, there is always a robin singing.

From 15th october 2016

The most brilliant Hunters' Moon, splashing a great silver cloak across the velvet black sea. The ripples make the sea glint and quiver with joy. The surf is loud but has assumed a soothing, cradle rocking rhythm. The seeing is as clear as I have ever seen. Anchored off Handfast Point is the general cargo ship Velox snugged down for the night. And right out just dipping below the horizon is the cruise ship Bremen on its way from Portsmouth to Falmouth, lights blazing. I can imagine the passengers at dinner or dancing in the ballroom .I can usually see both the red flashing light of the Needles and the brilliant strobe of St Catherine's right at the southern tip of the Isle of Wight but tonight I can just make out very faintly a string of more domestic lights of the little villages all down the West Side of the Island.

From 15th October 2011

The sun was hot on our backs but the air was cool and refreshing. The sea was as warm as milk. Beautiful afternoon on the beach