24th February from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
A sombre day to spend by the sea. Visitors wrap up well in coats and scarves. The wind is razor sharp. The grey sea is anxious. But gulls are determined to carry on with their plans for the future and try to establish their bona fides with members of the opposite sex. This often results in little skirmishes and a lot of running backwards and forwards: “She’s mine.” “No, she’s mine.” “I saw her first.” At first the female looks on with some interest but then flies off as neither meets her expectations. Mid afternoon and a sudden icy cloudburst puts a stop to any shenanigans.
From 24th February 2022
The rambunctious cold wind rattles the metal sign attached to the lamppost. The torn strips of red and white tape surrounding the broken tree branch stream out like fronds of strange underwater kelp fronds. The sun shines brightly in a clear blue sky except when the big mountains of grey cloud sail across its face. Earlier I counted three or four greenfinches in the clifftop gorse. Just now I heard two more in an ilext tree. Still difficult to believe they are becoming rarer. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #springisonitsway #February
From 24th February 2021
The wind is still strong coming up from the south and driving the sea up the beach in intricate broken curls which appear like banks of daisies. There is a yellow cast to the early light. The sun is imprisoned behind rows of parallel bars of grey cloud which become edged with gold before melting into one another. A tiny grey green bird hurtles over the gorse. It is unmistakably a warbler but whether it is an overwintering chiff chaff or a very early visiting willow warbler I'm not close enough to see. Either way we will see more of these early visitors as the climate changes. A tall meadow buttercup is lording it over the short grass.
