16th October from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
Somehow the sun glimmered enough through the misty milky grey murk to make the morning warm enough for a swim. The promenade is crowded and there are a fair number of walkers on the beach. Perhaps they sense this may be the last Sunday of Summer. But the wind is still strong and the cloud thickens up during the afternoon until the steady squalls of rain drive the visitors away. The gulls are rafting out to sea suggesting there is a bit of a blow on the way. Magpies chatter from the beter protected branches. The hazelbush which was almost burnt bare by the drought has put out a show of catkins and fungi flourish where they are undisturbed.
From 16th October 2021
The blue sky this afternoon was streaked with high filaments of white clouds bunched togeether to give the familiar beautiful Mares' Tails effect. And, indeed they do look just like proud swishy tail of a grey horse. The proper name for these is cirrus which means ringlet in latin and often presage a change in the weather. Indeed, by late afternoon the sea had ruffled under a strengthening cool wind.
From 16th October 2019
A stiff breeze and drifts of rain across the streetlamps. A continuous rushing from the sea with no wave breaks. No point in wiping my glasses so I enjoy the fractured kaleidoscopic lightshow from hotel dining rooms preparing for breakfast, the orange beacons from the bin lorry and the bright spotlights of the tractor on the beach battling the encroaching sand
From 16th October 2016
Watching the rain crossing the horizon dragging the blue sky after it.
From 16th October 2013
The rain is thrashing in from the sea and cataracting down my window. Through the cascades of water I can see the old bent pine wrestling with the weather. The sea is invisible in the grey murk.
