24th March from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
The big, blustery breeze has blown itself into half a gale. It sends the bubbling, raggedy grey clouds bowling across the patches of blue. The sun is having a poor time of it today From time to time manages to brighten things up and briefly warms the trees but it is, at best, a watery facsimile of itself. A curtain of mist has been drawn across the bay. The sea is a jagged grey blue under a grey blue sky and the surf is getting itself into a frenzy on the beach. The sound phases in and out like radio static. A robin sits on a high leafless branch facing to the wind and singing a song so different from its usual repetoire. It is a song of swoops and high trills, complicated runs and whistles. I have never heard a song like that before. It is as though the bird is experimenting with its voice out of pure joy.
From 24th March 2022
Greenfinches have extended their limited repertoire to include all sorts of trills and warbles into their song. Every clifftop gorse bush seems to house at least one. Meanwhile, on the other side of the Green, every spare branch seems to be the singing podium for the accomplished Dunnocks. And filling in the gaps are all the rest of the spring time orchestra. The air is fresh, not quite windless but a degree or two warmer than it has been. The waves are regular and soothing. I spent an hour sitting on a bench and talking to a visitor from Luton called Sanjay who has come back to visit the resort where his family came every year when he was a child. We discussed his mother's chapattis (apparently the best in the world), where to eat in Bournemouth (He recommended the Lahore in Old Christchurch Road and Norwegian Wood for breakfast). We also touched on homelessness and race relations but mostly just enjoyed the late afternoon spring sunshine because that is what the West Cliff Green is for. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #spring #march
From 24th March 2021
Flat, grey. Flat grey and cold. Flat grey and cold but the birds are busting themselves cheering the day up with their song. Go outside and listen. I mean, just stand and listen. Above the traffic and the construction work you'll hear birdsong.
From 24th March 2014
I have been working inside all day. The instant I determine to go out and buy something for tea - the heavens heave open. Nasty, cold, wetting rain blows along the street. Hunger or a soaking? What would you choose?
