23rd January from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
The sharp overnight frosts continue. The rime on the path sparkles in the hazy early morning sun. The sea has come to terms with its anger and throws, small meditative waves up onto the sands as tentative offerings. The crow with the droopy wing is practising the appropriate spring time whirrs and honks. The three cornered leeks are carpeting the low growing edges of the woodland. Big bunches were gathered last night for use in special recipes for the Chinese New Year. Welcome to the Year of the Rabbit.
From 23rd January 2022
Another, flat, grey day. Voices seem to get swallowed up in the damp air so you have to lean towards each other in conversation. Today's topic for discussion was about the gulls lining up on the fence hoping there might be something for them and squabbling when there is. When do the black headed gulls acquire their breeding plumage? (Not yet, it seems) and how old are the juvenile herring gulls before they acquire adult plumage? (Can be up to four years.) And, how good are they at recognising individual humans? My colloquist insists that the gulls station look outs opposite the front door of the chap who feeds them every day so that they know exactly when he's coming. A party of eight to ten assorted gulls walk across the grass. When one turns an heads off in another direction they all do. The life of a gull seems to depend on what the other gulls are doing. Desperate not to lose out. #Bournemouth #WestCliff #winter #January
From 23rd January 2019
The bay is black. I cannot see anything beyond the pools of illumination from the lights that line the prom in a great arc. The empty beach and a mere hint of the surf beyond. It is like staring close up at a pair of heavy black velvet curtains. But as my eyes begin to accustom to the dark other lights resolve The TV transmitters on the Isle of Wight. The huddle of lights below the Purbeck Hills that is Studland. And fainter yet, the red and green pinpricks of the buoys and leading lights of the safe channel into Poole Harbour. And then there is substance out in the bay, a breath of lighter air that is the horizon. And there over Handfast and beyond a cluster of lights which are the lifeboats from Swanage and the red flashing light which may or may not denote a Search and Rescue helicopter.
