19th June from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth

A woman whistles at her sausage dog. The sausage dog is much more interested in rummaging through the short grass at the paths edge. As I walk away the whistling fades into the distance. A Pigeon sits on the steps as I approach. A woman in white appears coming in the opposite direction. The pigeon seems hypnotised; undecided which way to go. It looks from one to the other and one to the other. Eventually when we arewith toouching distance it squirts off to the side. Jarvis the Council litteer man is clearing up meticulously dog end by dog end. I point out yesterday’s confetti and he laughs. Even he isn’t going to pick up every scrap of that. Everybody is affable todayand exchange greetings. A fresh little breeze and chunky grey cloud cover makes things bearable. After lunch the clouds begin to move apart and more of the blue sky becomes visible. The sea is rumpled like an unmade bed.

From 19th June 2022

The air is dry and the unbroken grey sky provides a dull, shadowless light. The sea is not so much angry as more slightly annoyed by the swirling, gusty wind. The beach is nearly empty except for a few hardy folk huddling behind wind breaks. Under the pines it is breathlessly quiet. Many of them are swathed in ivy scrambling upwards thick and green, confidently gripping onto the deep furrows in the bark. A family of magpies are having the usual sunday afternoon squabbles. The white, bowed heads of the tall grasses nod and whisper together. Among them, ragworts and big, purple thistles are establishing themselves. Charlock thrives, always looking as if it is almost dead. The fences are festooned with big white bindweed flowers. #Bournemouth #westcliffgreen #summer #June  Just beginning to patter with rain. It always rains on June 19th.

From 19th June 2021

It always rains on June 19th.