28th August

A quiet Bank Holiday Sunday morning. Morning shadows are long and clear. The choppy green waves are playing with the beach like a little dog worrying a ball. A burst of excited breakfast begging from the gulls echoes off the walls of the tall flats. Little green rosettes push up through the dusty patches where the grass was worn away in the drought. A row of benches stand waiting for the visitors who will come later.

From 28th August 2021

The cold North wind has returned (has it really ever gone away this year?) Banks of heavy mist lie on the bay and the hills. The sun makes a brief attempt to put in an appearance and casts long wan shadows on the path but it soon scuttles back behind the clouds. There might be some warmth in it later if the clouds burn away. I can hear a robin and a wren singing lustily from the same bush. The first time in weeks I've heard anything other than the the ne'er do well croaking and wailing of the jays, magpies crows and gulls. A pigeon coos.

From 28th August 2020

The air is clean and clear after the earlier downpour. The paths, thick with washes of pine needles, are already drying out. The watery sun emerging from the grey clouds is surprisingly warm. The sea has a mere shrug of a swell and the sand is flat and smooth. A juvenile gull in its distinctive brown mottled plumage keeps close to its parent maintaining an incessant plaintiff peeping. The body language of the older bird says “You’re on your own, mate. You’re old enough to go and find your own chips.” The grey sky veil has pulled back to reveal a bright blue afternoon sky with great meringuey piles of white cloud along the horizon.