19th February from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
The long, flat waves rustle gently. The air is cold but the sun shrugs off the streaks and washes of white cloud to glare off the sea and wrm the day. A flight of tits chatter in the bushes and a couple of great tits tee-cher each other backwards and forwards. The air is filled with the sounds of finches, robins and blackbirds. Spring seems to be on the way and people dress from a range that encompasses overcoats to shorts and T-shirts. The pictures of the trees were taken a few minutes apart as the sun rose. No filters.
From 19th February 2022
All day, the weather has been changing. Strong winds but not as wild as yesterday and sudden icy rainstorms interspersed with sunny periods where the sun peeps through the heavy, grey cumulus clouds to polish the surface of the bay. The waves are more organised, marching in upon the shore in regular, straight ranks before throwing themselves onto the sand. But when their is sun, the air is still cold and raw. Yesterday, the gulls were riding out the storm far out to sea. Today, they are enjoying the updraughts from the cliffs. Gulls love the storm and are perfectly made for it. Enjoy their sheer mastery of the air. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #springisonitsway #StormEunice #February
From 19th February 2015
The imposing red-brick Edwardian block opposite used to house retired colonels home from a life time service to the Raj or spinster ladies with chests as delicate as cut glass come to breathe in the sea air and wander aimlessly along the pine walks. This morning at six, a crowd of allnighters tumble out through the imposing front doors and scuffle round shouting "Fuck you." "Fuck you." "Fuck you.". None of them look much older than nineteen. They lean on their expensive new cars and spark up. I hope life goes well for them.
