21st January from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
A cold, still air. The sun glares down from an empty sky but the frost is still thick in the shadows. The trees are darkly etched against the blue. The sea is plale green, smooth and quilted. The small birds have all come out to enjoy the sunshine, robins, dunnocks and wrens. Magpies chase around in groups. It is the day for a walk, or to stand and stare at the scene.
From 21st January 2022
No stars tonight. Just a muddy flat sky reflecting the lights of the town. Out across the bay, the lights twinkle in the distance but not enough to lift the spirits. Coming home a man with a small dog were contemplating the view. The dog, a terrier, found a hole in the fence and went ratting in the long grass. When it reappeared it had lost its little coat. The man began to climb over the fence. "Do you want any help?" I said. At which he caught his foot in the wire and disappeared into the darkness. As I struggled him back over the fence he was laughing. And to be perfectly honest, so was I. #Bournemouth #westcliff #winter
From 21st January 2021
A crisp chill air with a blustering, boisterous breeze keeping everything in order. The sky is so pale blue as to be almost colourless, transparent as if you could see all the way through to the heavens. Where the blue meets the bright primrose to the east there is a vivid green wash to the sky. Great grey rolling clouds line the horizon as majestic as a herd of elephants, the bull right where the sun is about to rise and the baby hanging on to its mother’s tail half way round the horizon where the sky is streaked with tangerine. White cap waves hurry up the beach anxious not to miss the carnival. Seagulls hang black specks in the sky dome. Two, less adventurous, gossip on top of the shelter.
