25th October from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
Rained all night in big, sudden squalls; the rainwater suddenly rushing down the gutters and then, just as suddenly, stopping. So the day becomes raggedy, stop start, undecided. Cloudy and dull, underpinned by a brisk wind. The sea jagged and middling rough. The workmen, clear the paths of autumn debris and, for an hour or two, they are smart and clear until autumn begins its work again. The sun pierces through magically and lights a little brake of green sweet chestnut leaves with almost luminous intensity before it is blanked out again. A squirrel meets me on the steps and, deciding I have no importance in his world, edges by. Small flocks of tits and finches begin to appear, flitting together from bush to bush.
From 25th October 2021
There is still a pale afterglow of sunset to the West. The stars begin to prickle the darkening sky. Saturn and Jupiter shine out like beacons to the South. The waves are little neat shiny ridges like a newly ploughed field. The air is fresh and green smelling like new-mown grass on a cricket pitch in June. #Bournemouth #WestCliff #October #autumn
From 25th October 2020
The ragged grey clouds, the tattered remains of the storm, hurry away across the pale, late afternoon sky. The silver gibbous moon is sharp and bright even though it is still just about daylight. Threadbare, frayed bands of gulls flicker and wheel silhouetted against the fading day. Couples hurry past on the shining pavements, coat collars turned up. Lights are beginning to go on in the flats around.
