23rd February from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
A spiteful cold wind from the North east under a grey sky. From time to time the sun opens his front door and peers through but very quickly retreats inside and slams it shut. The sea provides a single, continuous careworn swoooosh. A man in a bright yellow puffer jacket sits hunched staring at the trees in the chine. The birds are too busy to entertain us this morning and the sycamore tree is resolutely maintaining it is still winter.
From 23rd February 2022
The sun has only appeared intermittently through the cracks in the cloud. The wind blows in horizontally and cold from the South West. The day seems flat and two dimensional. But sometimes I forget the vertical elements. I have mentioned the different types of bark on the pines but today I noticed the walls that edge the green in places. These form a busy, thriving habitat. All sorts of plants take root in the deeper crevices - dandelions and their close relations. Veronica and later, valerian. And in the shallower gaps dark green moss. Soon, this will provide a soft lining for the nests of the birds in the nearby bushes. This in turn is a home for myriads of little creepy-crawlies that will provide food for those birds. Also here is a place to hide for many different kinds of snails. Inpast ages people would eat these onFridays when meat was forbidden. The church, accommodating as ever, classified snails as fish and, to this day, in many dialects they are called WallFish. Later in the spring we will see lizards clinging to the stones, enjoying sunny days. #Bournemouth #westcliffgreen #springisonitsway #February
From 23rd February 2021
A cold wind as brisk as a village school mistress chivvying he charges into class after a boisterous playtime. Ragged grey, white and purple clouds are draped across the Wedgwood blue morning sky. The sun bursts through and for a moment everything is edged with a brilliant yellow gold. The sea is white capped and mischievous and the bushes are brought alive by the bird of the week, the dunnock which suddenly has appeared everywhere. This unassuming bird used to be called a hedge sparrow but it has a charming presence with black marks against a chestnut brown back and a stylish grey throat. It's song is clear and melodious and fills out the well established dawn chorus. .
