1st November from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
For a brief moment the sun struggles through the slabs of charcoal clouds and casts a half-hearted shadow before the walkers. But then it is obscured as abruptly as if a window cleaner has smeared a bucket of suds across it. Squalls of misty rain race across the bay. The waves are jagged andchase in a frenzy far up the beach. The wind growls in the tree tops that bend before the gale. Pigeons huddle on the ground round the cliff top shelter. Crows are tossed around like the burnt remains of paperback books. Lightning snaps across the Purbeck Hills, thunder rumbles and the deluge, when it comes. is hard and bitter.
From 1st November 2021
The air is cold and you unconsciously pull your jacket just a little tighter around your shoulders. But the sky is a stew of grey cloud and blue sky with the sun making occasional gracious appearances. The waves are puckered but polished smooth as old pewter. A crow manages to exhibit its own sense of superiority despite its slightly ragged appearance. Definitely an eccentric owner of this estate. #Bournemouth #WestCliff #Autumn #November
From 1st November 2012
Significantly scary mass of black murk looming up from the horizon and advancing over the sea. We are doomed. Doomed...
