27th August from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth

If there is such a thing as a perfect August Bank Holiday weekend, this may be it. Blue sky, blue sea polished to a sheen, empty white sands. Visibility is clear to the horizon. One or two early fishing boats dot the bay. Visitors who have just arrived after an overnight drive lean on the cliff top rails and marvel at the perfection. Sea gulls wheel, the goats bleat, a gentle breeze stirs the imagination. Pigeons and crows and small birds complete the scene.

From 27th August 2020

The grey sea is formed of little jagged waves like a badly iced Christmas cake. Gulls hang on the updraft of the stiff, chill breeze. One or two hunch on the roofs of the beach huts feathers ruffling, trying to look unconcerned but their beady eyes are in constant motion scoping out the merest hint of a crust of breakfast toast. The heavy blanket of clouds looks soft and lumpy. Out in the bay the four cruise liners look even more forlorn in the pale light.

Later…

The roar of the wind is so loud on the clifftop you can barely hear the almost constant rumble of thunder above it. Trees and bushes are bent double before the gale. Leaf laden branches thrash and gyrate as if being forced to dance. A child shouts in delight, arms outstretched to the elements. But out on the bay. a bright band above the horizon shows that the storm will soon pass. And in a matter of minutes it has indeed gone leaving only the immense sheeting rain.