21st August

The white, corded sheet of mackerel sky mirrors almost exactly the corduroy ridge and furrow of the green waves across the bay. The wind is still brisk and the sun is still warm but there is a calmness about the day. Nine of the visiting pigeons are pecking furiously at the grass to see if they can find some goodness there. The resident pigeons have retired to the trees where they coo soothingly. Juvenile gulls are gliding and swooping as expertly as a teenager on a skateboard but once they see an adult on the ground they circle down rapidly and, peeping furiously with neck stretched out and shoulders hunched, they implore to be fed. The adult ignores them and walks stiffly away but the juvenile is certain they will die of hunger soon and uses every threat and cajolery they can muster. The adult flies away. The youth gives up all pretence and flies almost gracefully away.

From 21st August 2021

A drizzly morning gave way to blue sky and sunshine ling enough to swim in the choppy wave. But then spears of dark cloud driven by a sharp breeze lanced across the sky and very soon it was raining again. As I walk the rain patters on the leaves overhead. Car tyres swish on the main road. A pigeon coos.