22nd November from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
The rain patters down cold and steady. The heavy, navy blue clouds are punched through with a gap that discloses the bright day above and beyond. the waves are undecided between restless and soothing. There are more dark shapes about than the usual dog walkers. There is a click of heels and shuffle of trainers. Nobody speaks on the way to work. A soundlesss stream of humanity not quite in full function mode. Later, the sun sweeps away the dawn rain but a huge slab of black cloud crawls in from the hills dragging curtains of rain again.
From 22nd November 2019
Here's an interesting piece of corvid behaviour I spotted on my way home this morning. Two crows on the fence rail. One has, what looks like, a piece of meat in her beak. As I approach she flies down and begins washing it in a puddle. A deliberate act, swishing it back and forth. As I get nearer she moves and begins dunking the meat up and down. And again. Sometimes she drops the meat in the puddle before, in the end, swallowing it. Is it some sort of display behaviour? Or merely a matter of hygiene?
From 22nd November 2017
Leaning on the gale on my way home, when it started to rain. Heavy drops like ball bearings, mixed in with the slashing salt spray and the sand blast from the beach. Happy to be home.
From 22nd November 2015
The evening holds its icy breath. Between the distant murmur of traffic and the soothing hush of the surf the clifftop is still, bathed in the hard silver light of the moon. The moon is not yet sufficient for hare hunters to be about their business but it is bright enough to cast a shadow on the empty path between the streetlamps. The whole of Poole Bay can be picked out in the silver glitter from the cluster of lights that is Studland and the red and green flashes of the Swash Channel right over to the slow red of the Needles Light with the tall scarlet prinked towers of the two Isle of Wight tv transmitters behind. In the far distance the bright strobe of St Catherine's Light on the southernmost point of the island is mirrored On Nine Barrow Down, by a pair of headlights which flash briefly. The farmer is checking his cattle for the night.
From 22nd November 2012
It is really wild on the cliff top tonight. The noise of sea is a continuous dull roar counterpointed by the moaning and thrashing of the tree branches.
