17th March from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
It’s damp and drizzly and everything is wet. The grass and greenery are growing up apace. The clumps of green leaves that will be flowers are quite tall now. The large glossy green black spotted leaves of Lords and Ladies luxuriate in the fresh, damp air. The sea is calm and has returned to its natural soothing slump and swish. The sea sound forms a background to everything and becaue of the long long shore line, the waves coming in at a shallow angle means that the sound of one wave breaking still fills the air as the next one is starting further along making a single almost continuous sound. The birds are looking particularly sleek in their new season’s plumage. The gulls are paint sharp in their white grey and black. But we’re still waiting for that definite breakthrough into spring. Everything waiting for something else to take the lead. Out in the bay a couple of jet-skiers are making white curlicues around each other. The early fog begins to clear and the sun finds a patch of blue and shines down warmly and we can see dappled sunshine on the paths.
From 17th March 2022
There's just enough light in the Western sky to throw the old pines into dramatic silhouette. The air is crisp and fresh. The stars are beginning to twinkle but there must be whisps of invisible cloud to obscure some of the constellations. The moon, nearly full now, is brilliant and causes a strange illusion that the silver, corded sea is actually rising up towards it. The goats are curled up in a heap dreaming their untroubled dreams. We quite often get little bouquets of flowers tied to the fence or one of the benches. Tonight there is a bunch of daffodills in a small glass jar on the cliff edge. #Bournemouth #westcliffgreen #spring #March
From 17th March 2021
The sun makes its way up through the streaks and streamers of grey and white clouds to the east. But otherwise the sky is clear blue with only hints and whispers of cloud speckling it. The wind has dropped and the air is fresh; just this side of a frost. Barely a ripple disturbs the surface of the bay and the sand is flat and smooth for the early morning joggers following the tide's edge. This is the best time of year for matching birds to their songs. The dawn chorus is in full swing but, as yet, most trees still have bare branches so it is easy to spot the little fellow making all at din. A willow warbler, tiny and round with a distinctive pale eye stripe sits just above my head and does what willow warblers do best: viz. warbling. A week or two later and I would not have spotted him among the leafage.
