20th January from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
As the overnight frosts continue the white icing in the shade is more reluctant to disappear. The sun dazzles down from a virtually clear blue sky. Just a few wisps of white cloud decorate th horizon. The sea remains tranquil. There are long shadows even at noon and the air remans biting cold. Little crowds of elderly folk, obviously coach trippers, fill the paths. one such group numbers over a dozen. Despite the cold they are delighted to be at the sea side but huddle together for warmth. Birdsong is beginning to fill the air. Robins and finches populate the bushes. A pigeon has found an ideal place to roost and refuses to move even when I approach. A family of magpies rattle at each other from the tree tops as if they, too are having a day out.
From 20th January 2022
The air is cold but the sun beats down gloriously from an unsullied blue sky. Where there is shelter it is quite warm and where the sun reflects up from a breeze rippled sea it is shirt sleeve weather. A life boat is practising in the bay leaving big circles and straight lines in its wake. A young man sits on a bench with a towel round his shoulders whilst his mate cuts his hair. Blackbirds call. And on a sunny bank there is a profusion of violets. #Bournemouth #westcliff #winter #January
Later
The cold is intense tonight. As cold as it has been all winter. The Old Yule moon is enormous, low down to the East although it is a few days after full. The stars burn fiercely. Orion to the South and Sirius further down towards the horizon, the brightest star in the sky. Gemini the Twins and the Pleaides are very clear to either side. A procession of bright lights bob and weave through the trees. There is unearthly laughter and rasping breathing as in some eerie witches dance. It is a party of keep fit enthusiasts wearing headtorches. The sea sighs gently. It has seen this all before. #Bournemouth #westcliff #winter #January
From 20th January 2019
It is one of those intensely cold January nights. A sort of damp cold just this side of frost but with the sort of knife edge to it that makes me think that once it chills me deep inside I will never get warm again. I pull my coat tight around me. The moon is hazed in high broken clouds so that there is a clear multi-coloured spectrum surrounding it. And then the clouds jostle aside rather like great silver ice bergs being moved apart by strange deep currents so that the moonlight is suddenly bright and clear, throwing black shadows among the pines and flattening out the street lights on the empty paths.
