27th September from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
An early burst of sunshine gives way to a steady drizzle from dull, grey clouds and a cold wind. Standing among the row of Holm oaks at the North of the Green is one for which life has proved varied and, perhaps, disconcerting. At some point it has been coppiced to ground level and has grown up through branchlets to be many trunked. And then it has been cut back again sharply. This time to above human head height. And somewhen subsequent to that it has died. But the story has not ended. The bare trunks have stood there for a considerable time. They have been whitened and smoothed by the wind and the cliff top weather. Now it stands, at once, forlorn in the cold drizzle but somehow indomitable. As though it quite intends to be here for ever. A monument to itself. A sculpture of all trees and all the people who have, at one time or another, sheltered beneath its boughs.
West Cliff Gardens #Westcliffgardens #westcliffgreen #Bournemouth
From September 27th 2021
At last we have had some weather. Torrential rain last night accompanied by big winds that rattled the doors in the building. By dawn the skies were clearing but the strong breeze kept up all day to the delight of the wind surfers. The big grey waves settled on the sand with a roar. Later a mass of dark cloud dragged huge curtains of rain out of the west and as they cleared away a big double rainbow surrounded the bright white Polar Bear on the end of the Isle of Wight. Gulls paddled in the shallows. For a short while there were clear blue skies with puffs of fair weather cloud until the grey rain clouds trundled up again. And so it continues into the evening.
From September 27th 2019
I would never have the temerity to describe myself as a flaneur. To me that implies a certain sort of urban, or at least social, wandering. I consider myself more of an ambler or a saunterer and these days I am mostly a seaside idler. It’s how I write. Today, after the excitement of the twin bin lorry visits (see UPDATES elsewhere) I am free to luxuriate in the still dark clifftop world. The breeze is as boisterous as a young puppy while the sea still growls away at the foot of the cliffs. Pale scuds of clouds hide and then reveal the enormous constellation of Orion and his companions high over the bay. The bright planets of Jupiter and Saturn are still wending their way across the ecliptic. The clifftop foliage is mostly composed of the tall dry spikes of summer flowers but most of the trees and bushes are still in full leafage that rattles and sighs in the breeze. A tiny pinprick of light overhead denotes the passage of a plane heading for Heathrow. I have a glimmer of fellow feeling for the good people of Raleigh Durham Even if I haven’t a clue where Raleigh Durham is. For a few seconds we are here together at this pre-dawn reality. The moon is a final waning thumbnail and I am reminded of the old country saying “Moon on her back, water in her lap”, and, sure enough at that moment it starts to rain.
