18th March from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
A trick of the light and mist suspends a ship halfway between sea and sky. The air is fresh and the mist wreaths around the treetops. Small birds twitter excitedly among the branches of the sycamore. A great tit sings out cheerfully from a high vantage point. Pigeons coo. Last year’s cones from the scots pine lie scattered on the grass near the little grove of daffodils. Small pink cranesbills are beginning to show themselves alongside the violets. Somebody has been enjoying beer and sandwiches on one of the benches and quite forgot to take the wrappings home. We all get forgetful as we get older but the red and blue can and white plastic bags now are as much of the scene as the flowers and benches and trees. And after a couple of false starts, the sun breaks through and the afternoon is warm under a blue sky.
From 18th March 2022
The sky is a deep, rich blue at the zenith fading down to a delicate, paler wash at the edges. There is not a single cloud and the sun is bold and warm. But the spring air is sharp and fresh and it is definitely jacket weather. The gorse is filled with the sound of greenfinches and on a leafless bush I can count five, no six, dunnocks all calling and singing to each other. Although the dunnock is quite common here I rarely see more than one or two at a time. I wonder if they are not locals; perhaps a party from the mediterranean on their way north. The gulls wheel against the sky and today I can hear the voices of the black headed gulls above those of the herring gulls. The waves are calmer than they have been although they are still large enough to land on the beach with a thump. The spring flowers are everywhere and I see a patch of glossy yellow celandines in a corner. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #spring #March
From 18th March 2018
Late night dog walker stands disconsolately while snow builds steadily on his arms and hat. The dog sits morosely on the path beside him becoming one with the drifting white stuff. They gaze stoically into the darkness both waiting for the other to pack it in and go back somewhere warm.
